“How wonderful,” Dana squealed. She directed her words to Frannie. “You must be so proud. I can’t imagine having a chef in the family.”

I held my breath, but I noticed my daughter’s gaze focus thoughtfully on Allegra. There was a spark of interest I hadn’t seen before. “Yes, I am proud,” she said.

I relaxed and we focused on our meal. Maybe this was the beginning of her opening up a dialogue with Allegra on her choices. We ate and drank and laughed under the tent, shielded from the Tuscan sun. The gathering was warm and intimate and felt more like a family gathering than strangers forced to share a meal at the same table. After lunch, we were able to shop at the market, and I picked up a bottle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar and bought each of us a naked apron so we’d always remember this trip.

By the time we reboarded the bus, my girls were smiling together. I’d noticed Frannie check her phone a few times, but she’d never disappeared, seeming to try to focus on being with her daughter.

As we headed into Florence, I prayed it was a new beginning for all of us, and I thanked Maria and her farm for reminding us that even in the midst of hard work, there is always room for fun and laughter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Francesca

Florence reminded me of an Italian queen.

The city was regal and shimmering with a sophistication that made its neighboring cities and sights fade from memory. We’d already visited an array of impressive churches, and I figured nothing would come close to St. Peter’s.

I was wrong.

The magnificence of Santa Croce church took me by surprise. From the soaring marble frontage to the gilded golden doors, I was swept into an old-world glamour and surrounded by the greatest artists of all time. As I stood before the tombs of Dante, Galileo, and Michelangelo, the vivid, glittering Giotto frescoes demanded my full attention. The detail was extraordinary, from the stained glass to the mural paintings and sculptures lovingly carved from marble. The endless chapels each held an artistic surprise, until we exited the church and blinked in the sun, halfway drunk from the overstimulation of such beauty.

We strolled through the Piazza della Signoria, the main town square, and took in the bustle of crowds carrying designer bags from the luxury shops, passing timeless historical pieces without a second glance. It reminded me a bit of New York and how no one ever looked up at the Empire State Building or paused to view the Statue of Liberty across the Hudson. Enzo was well skilled at delivering factual information mixed with interesting stories to keep us moving and engaged. I actually found him a much better tour guide than the locals he’d set us up with for some of the main sights.