Free Breathing Room by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

the bathroom. Although it was barelyfour o'clock, she opened the Chianti Classico she'd picked up in town. Chianti could only be termedclassico , she'd learned, if it had been pressed from grapes grown in the Chianti region that lay a few miles to the east.
    She found stemless wineglasses in the cupboard. She wiped off a water spot, filled one, and carried everything out to the garden.
    The delicate scents of rosemary and sweet basil drifted up from the gravel path as she made her way toward the old table that sat in the shade of the magnolia. Two of the garden's three cats came up to greet her. She settled down and gazed out over the ancient hills. The plowed fields that had been grayish brown in the morning had turned to lavender in the late-afternoon sun. So beautiful.
    Tomorrow she would begin to follow the schedule she'd set up for the next two months.
    She didn't need to check the notes she'd made to remember how she planned to organize her days.
    Awaken at6:00
    Prayer, Meditation, Gratitude, and Daily Affirmations
    Yoga or brisk walk
    Light breakfast
    Morning chores
    Work on a new book
    Lunch
    Sight-seeing, window-shopping, or other pleasurable activity (Be impulsive) Revise morning writing
    Dinner
    Inspirational reading and evening chores
    Bed at10:00
    REMEMBER TO BREATHE!
    She wouldn't worry about the fact that she had no idea what kind of book she would write. That's why she needed to stay here, so she could unblock her mental and emotional channels.
    The wine was full and fruity, and it melted on her tongue, but as she leaned back to savor it, she noticed a dusty film on the marble tabletop. She jumped up and went back inside for a rag. When she'd wiped it off, she sat back down again.
    She inhaled the wine and the rosemary. In the distance a road curled against the hills in a pale, smoky trail. This beautiful place... To think that only yesterday she hadn't wanted to be here.
    On top of a hill off to her right she noticed what might have been part of a village but now looked like ruins with a crumbling wall and the remains of a watchtower. She started to get up so she could find her opera glasses, then reminded herself she was supposed to be relaxing.
    She took a cleansing breath, settled back in her chair, and reached inside herself for contentment.
    It wasn't there.
    "Signora!"
    The cheery voice belonged to a young man coming her way through the garden. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, and slender. Another handsome Italian. As he came closer, she saw liquid brown eyes, silky black hair caught back in a low ponytail, and a long, beautifully shaped nose.
    "Signora Favor, I am Vittorio."He introduced himself expansively, as if his name alone should bring her pleasure.
    She smiled and returned his greeting.
    "May I join you?" His accent indicated he'd learned his elegant, lightly accented English from British teachers instead of American ones.
    "Of course. Would you like some wine?"
    "Ah, I would love some."
    He stopped her as she began to rise. "I've been here many times," he said. "I'll get it. Sit and enjoy the view."
    He returned in less than a minute with the bottle and a glass. "A beautiful day." A cat rubbed against him as he settled at the end of the table. "But then, all our Tuscan days are beautiful, are they not?"
    "It seems that way."
    "And you are enjoying your visit?"
    "Very much. But it's more than a visit. I'll be staying here for several months."
    Unlike Giulia Chiara, Anna Vesto, and the dour Marta, he looked delighted with the news. "So many Americans, they come on their tour buses for a day, then leave. How can one experienceTuscanylike that?"
    It was hard to ignore so much enthusiasm, and she smiled. "One cannot."
    "You have not yet tried our pecorino." He dipped the spoon on her plate into the honey pot and drizzled a dab on her wedge of cheese. "Now you will be a proper Tuscan."
    He looked so eager that she didn't have the heart to disappoint him, even though she suspected he'd