Farrah laid the white roses next to the new headstone marking the grave of Mariem Meddeb-Bernini. Forever in our hearts was written in both Italian and Arabic under the single date of birth and death.
Her finger traced the writing as she struggled to breathe.
“We’ll come back often,” he said, holding his hand out to help her rise.
“I know.”
“How do you say ‘I love you’ in Arabic?”
“Ana ouhibouki.” He repeated the words. “And I say ana ouhibouka.” She emphasized her statement with a kiss on his lips. “But this is how you say it to a lover. If you’re telling your mother that you love her, it’s different.”
He chuckled. “Noted. But I’m not likely to tell my mother I love her in Arabic.” With his arm around her shoulders, they walked down the hill to the car.
“How is she? And your father?”
“Both are well. Mama wants to apologize to you in person for her poor behavior, as she calls it. She says you were an angel when my father came up with his harebrained scheme to fake a heart attack.”
She shrugged. “Everyone else was sick. I was available.”
“Nevertheless, she is now telling everyone what a wonderful daughter-in-law she has.”
He steered her over to a bench set in a rose garden. The perfume from the blossoms scented the air, bees happily buzzed among the flowers, and a light breeze wafted over them.
“Had I known it was that easy to get in her good graces, I’d have poisoned her long ago,” Farrah said with a small laugh.
“Hell, I’d have poisoned her.” He dropped a kiss on her temple. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Sure. But I thought we were going to do some grocery shopping first. The fridge is empty.”
“Not at our new house in Tunis. It’s ready.”
She turned and searched his eyes. “You want to live in Tunisia?”
“It’s where your work is. And I can base out of there just as easily as Rome.”
“You’ll be traveling a lot again?” It was a minor disappointment, but she could probably deal with it.
“Yes and no. I’ve been invited to head the Middle East and North Africa division at my bank. So my travel will be in that area. Which means most of it can be done in a day or overnight from Tunisia. I may have to make longer trips now and then, but nothing like when we were first married.”
She swallowed down a lump in her throat. It seemed her dreams were finally coming true. “You’re happy with that? I know you enjoyed the challenge of problem-solving.”
“Trust me, there will still be plenty of problems. And this way I’ll get to sleep next to the most amazing woman almost every night.” He paused and stared off into the distance for a moment. “Unless you’ll be gone. I have to say, I’m still not comfortable with the idea of you putting yourself in dangerous situations.”
“I’ll have to make a few trips a year, but mostly just to Morocco or Jordan. We’ve hired regional managers who will do the bulk of traveling and training. My oldest sister and her husband will be covering Tunisia and Algeria.”
Much of the tension released from his muscles. “What will you do?”
“I’ll still make sure orders are filled and shipped accordingly. But I’m hoping to spend more of my time on personal projects. I want to create and teach others. I’ll be making instructional videos to show the women in future villages how to create pieces.”
“Then you are going to appreciate the surprise I have for you at our new house.”
“Surprise?” She just about bounced off the bench. She hadn’t had many pleasant surprises in her life.
A mischievous twinkle lit his beautiful eyes. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
She tugged on his arm. “When can we leave?”
“This afternoon. I’ve booked us on a 4:00 p.m. flight.”
“That was presumptuous of you.” She put both hands on her hips.
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in for a kiss. “I prefer to think of it as knowing my wife.”
When he released her lips, she almost purred. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
Arm in arm, they returned to the car.
“You know,” he said as he waited for her to fasten her seat belt, “as head of MENA—Middle East North Africa,” he clarified, “I need to speak Arabic. I was wondering if between running the world’s best artisan cooperative and creating incredible pieces of art, you’d have time to teach me again. The Internet course just isn’t cutting it.”
She ran a hand down his thigh, and he missed a gear shift. “You already know basic greetings, endearments, parts of a woman’s body, and how to say I love you.”
“True. But aside from the greetings, I’m not sure any of that will help me in my job.”
“Will you be a good student?”
He stopped at a red light and glanced over at her. The heat in his gaze nullified the air conditioner’s attempt to cool her. “I will be most attentive to your every command.”
The light changed to green, and she managed to pull in a breath after he returned his attention to driving. “Then sayakun min diwaei srury 'an yuelamak.”
“Which means?”
“It will be my delight to teach you.”
His wicked laugh filled the car. “Delight. Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
***
Cristo opened the door to their new Tunisian home and then carried Farrah across the threshold. They were starting all over again. While he didn’t want to forget the past, he hoped to put the pain behind them with a fresh start in a new place.
At least he could find this house without leaving a trail of shiny pebbles.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he said as he put her down.
She gripped his hand and turned in a slow circle. “This is so beautiful.” The awe in her voice swelled his chest. He’d done good for his woman.
The floor was tiled in traditional Moorish mosaic, but the lower walls he’d kept in a plain cream tile. All the plaster and woodwork had been meticulously repaired. The center of the courtyard held an elaborate fountain with four tiers, the sound of falling water masking any outside traffic noise. Potted lemon and palm trees nestled against the columns supporting the upper floors.
A climbing white rose, just beginning to bloom, weaved through a silver trellis: a tribute to the child who’d been the catalyst of their relationship. Farrah fingered a soft petal before moving away.
“You like it?” he teased.
“I feel like a princess.”
“You are. You’re my princess.”
“I love how you’ve blended both our cultures in the decor.”
“That was my aim.” He pointed to the side wall of the room. “That’s a false wall that folds open. There’s an office space for you on the other side. I thought you’d like to put your own stamp on it. If we’re both working from home, we can open the wall and still see each other.”
She shot him a sexy smile and a knowing gleam. “Now I know why you put a double-wide sofa in your office.”
It was his turn to laugh. “You know it. I thought a bed might be too obvious.”
“How are we going to stop the children from sliding down this banister?” she asked as they ascended the stairs. It warmed his heart that she was already envisaging offspring.
“We’ll have to figure something out. I already tried it and just about killed myself.”
She stopped walking. “You didn’t.”
He shrugged. “Someone was going to do it. I reckoned the first person should be me.”
“You’re going to be a lousy role model, aren’t you?” Her laugh took any sting from the words. If he had his way, the sound of laughter would soon be so prevalent that the four-tiered fountain would be difficult to hear.
“I’ll be able to guide our children based on personal experience.”
Whatever her rebuttal, it was forgotten as he opened the door to their bedroom. She gaped so long he closed her mouth with a finger under her jaw.
“Pleased?” he asked after a minute passed and she’d made no comment.
“I am never going to leave this room.” She reverentially touched the silk bedspread before running her fingers over the intricately carved headboard.
She wandered the room in a daze, touching objects, smelling the mint leaves in a planter on the window ledge. The whole room was a sensual extravaganza dedicated to night and the pleasures to be enjoyed once the world was shut out behind the heavy oak door.
“I’m glad you like it. And while I wholeheartedly support your plan to spend the rest of your life in this room, I think something outside may tempt you as well.”
“You mean this isn’t my surprise?”
He smiled. “Nope.”
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. “I love our house. I love you. We are going to be so happy here. I can feel it.”
“Come see your surprise before it gets dark.”
He took her hand, and although it went against every cell in his body, he led her from the bedroom, back down the stairs and out the back door. A covered porch spanned the width of the house, and a pool enclosed by a glass fence took up a third of the backyard. He pointed to the left, toward an outbuilding that had originally been servants’ quarters.
“Go check it out.”
“You’re not coming?” she asked as he released her hand and sat on one of the loungers placed in groupings along the porch.
“I’m saving my energy for later.”
She quirked an eyebrow but ventured toward her new workshop. The woman who owned the studio where Farrah had worked in the past had been in charge of this part of the renovation. The main room was now a huge pottery studio, with cold storage for the clay, a drying room, and a kiln at the far end of the building.
Another room they’d made suitable for painting, and a third would work well if Farrah ever decided she wanted to try sculpting anything other than clay. A smallish office would allow her to do paperwork without having to go back to the main house. And a final space was set aside for a playroom when that became necessary. It had hurt to remove the toys he’d bought for Meriam. But he’d put them in storage and hoped to move them back when the time was right.
Farrah stumbled out of the building a half hour later, a broad smile on her face.
“You are the best husband ever.”
He stood and held out his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug. He dropped a kiss on her temple before making his way down to her ear.
“Now aren’t you glad you came to my room after Bella and Mario’s wedding?”
“I have never once regretted that night.”
Their lips met, he swung her into his arms, and, four weeks later, the bed upstairs was christened. And the sofa in his office. The shower. The desk in her workshop and a table in one of the other rooms.
More importantly, laughter became the most commonly heard sound in their new home. Well, besides, “Cristo, we can’t do that in here!”