Page 61 of A Wedding in Tuscany

‘This is why I’ve been seeing flecks of gold on your clothes,’ I say. ‘I was wondering.’

He chuckles. ‘Yeah. I kept it in a plastic bag but, you know …’

‘Glitter finds a way.’

‘Apparently.’ I smile through my happy tears.

I slide the top of the box off and inside, nestled on a bed of crinkled gold tissue paper, is a framed watercolour of Santorini?just a sliver of the view with the bright blue dome of a church at its centre, hints of surrounding buildings in the curves of the lines and a windmill in the background. It’s breathtaking.

‘Oh, Josh.’ My eyes drink in all the details and I check the artist’s signature. It’s not someone I know but I am already a huge fan. I lift my eyes to his. ‘It’s beautiful. I love it.’ I lean over and press my lips to his. ‘Thank you.’

‘Sorry for the glitter.’ We grin at each other and I shake my head.

‘It’s the gift that keeps on giving.’ I look back down at the painting. ‘I know exactly where I’m going to hang this.’

‘Where are you thinking?’

‘My side of the bed, just over my dresser, so I can see it when I wake up.’

‘Sounds good.’

We regard each other and I wonder if he’s doing the same thing as me, conjuring our meet cute?him the cute American guy, me the Aussie chick, both of us on a dusty bus filled with locals and hoping we were going to the right marina to join our sailing trip.

We were the only ones to step off the bus at Vlychada Marina. ‘Are you on the sailing trip?’ I asked.

‘Oh, thank god I’m in the right place,’ he blurted. Then he apologised, saying that he’d spent the entire bus trip worrying he was on the wrong one.

We introduced ourselves, found our boat, and joined a group of people who became our floating family. It was the most extraordinary ten days of my life?literally life-changing, as Josh’s card says. And not just for him, but for me too. I’d been so stuck before that trip. Josh helped me lift my head and fall back in love with life. Which is exactly why he’s the love of my life.

‘I should get in the shower,’ I say, breaking the spell of reminiscing.

‘Kiss me first.’ I do. ‘Now scoot.’

‘Scoot? I didn’t realise you were a grumpy neighbour from a 1950s TV show.’ He may have lived in Australia for several years, but he’s still a Midwestern boy at heart.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He shakes his head, laughing at himself, and I head off to shower.

It’s only as I stand under the hot stream of water that I think about what he wrote in my card. There amongst all those romantic and beautiful sentiments was, ‘I hope your fortieth birthday is everything you dreamed it would be.’ And those are the words that run through my head as I shower, my stomach tying itself in knots.

How can Josh possibly know that all I’ve dreamed of over the past few months is to hold this birthday at bay? I haven’t been honest with him about it. I’ve barely been honest with myself about it.

Because I thought I’d have it figured out by now, but here we are! The big 4-0. What the hell is this elusive bloody thing that’s been niggling at me all these months, making me wonder what’s missing from my life when I have so much?

I’m really hoping that a busy day of wedding planning will distract me but I know that at some point, I’m going to have to talk to Josh, tell him what’s really going on. I just hope he doesn’t think it’s about him, this internal disquiet. It isn’t. That’s one thing I’m sure of.

‘Let me do the talking,’ says Jaelee.

‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ I ask. She and I have just left the apartment and are making our way along the gravel driveway towards the main part of the castle.

‘Ha-ha.’

‘I’m not being funny. Bianca doesn’t seem very agreeable.’

‘Well, that’s just because she hasn’t met me yet. I’m better in person.’ First, I’m not sure Jaelee has an accurate understanding of how intimidating she is in person. She may be a tiny human but I wouldn’t cross her. And second, when the rest of us met Bianca a few days ago, she was all business and not a lot of warmth. Even the (uber charming) Jean-Luc could barely get her to crack a smile.

I’m here to support Jaelee but I wholeheartedly believe my (poor) sister and brother-in-law will either get married in a windowless room surrounded by dusty books or that gruesome room with all the dead animals. As we walk up a set of steps and through an archway, then emerge into the central courtyard, I have an idea. ‘What if we ask about having it out here?’ I say to Jaelee.

She looks around. The castle walls of irregular sandstone brick rise several storeys high on three sides of the courtyard and on the fourth side is a low outbuilding. Around the perimeter of the courtyard, potted topiaries and terracotta planters with tenacious geraniums and other unidentified greenery stand sentry. The paving is slightly irregular but that’s nothing that Cat, an expert at walking in heels, couldn’t manage.

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