“You do?”
“You know, they lived not too far from here, near the Boboli Gardens. We could walk over there.”
“Elizabeth Barrett Browning? You like her sonnets? You want to go to the Casa Guidi?” Mel took a quick gulp of the prosecco and stuffed a strawberry into her mouth, shaking her head and trying not to let her emotions get out of control. He liked Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnets. She bit into the strawberry and sighed.
Daniel got back on topic. “Anyway. I liked your summary of that poem better than the poem itself.”
She remembered saying it to him, standing there showing off in the piazza that first day. The day she had told him about the terrace and the prosecco and the strawberries.
“Don’t put off until tomorrow the love you desire today,” he said.
Mel took a deep, steadyin
