Song:  'Amazing Day' - Coldplay

-*-

Harry swings the car around in front of a few large buildings and an attractive blonde-haired woman strolls towards us. She is around late thirties, casually dressed in blue jeans, black boots and a white shirt. Harry opens his window and extends his hand to shake hers. 

"Hi Harry, it's good to see you again. I trust you had a good journey?" She smiles welcomingly at him.

"Yes, we did thanks Lisa, it's lovely to be back here." He turns to introduce me just as Lisa bends to peer in through his window and wave towards me.

"You must be Tasha, welcome to Lompoc. We are so pleased to have you both here." She offers sincerely.

"Thank you Lisa, it's lovely to meet you."  I reciprocate her warm smile.

"Harry, here are the keys. Everything is just as you asked but if you require anything else please let me know. Enjoy your stay and I look forward to seeing you both later. The wine tasting starts around 5pm just over there." She points across the courtyard to a huge shed with vast wooden doors that are currently closed.

"We appreciate that and we'll see you then, thanks." Harry cheerfully replies.

He drives slowly through the estate then turns onto a dirt track, maneuvering the car skillfully through the narrow gap between the ends of the rows of vines. I glance over my shoulder to see the view out of the rear window is shrouded by a cloud of thick dust that is rising up from the tyres as they turn over the dry earth.

We reach a large bank of trees and as the car passes through the break in the branches they brush against each side of the vehicle. We emerge into a secluded clearing that is like entering a lush oasis. Standing amongst majestic oaks is a 1920s Vintner's House; a two-storey Mediterranean styled villa with its cream rendered walls and terracotta-tiled roof. A covered veranda wraps around part of the ground floor of the villa and pretty rambling roses surround the green-framed French windows and doors that stand proudly open. The whole house sits on spacious green lawns. It feels like we have been transported to an idyllic piece of Southern France or Tuscan Italy.

I am so completely overwhelmed I have not uttered a word since we arrived; I simply squeezed Harry's hand tight in appreciation and so far have not let go. This place is everything that is perfect to me – tranquil, remote and free from fuss. Harry brings the car to a stop and I waste no time in getting out. I am in dazed autopilot mode simply staring ahead in wonder at the beautiful property before me, almost afraid to venture any further towards it in case it is a mirage and disappears.

Harry comes up behind me and slides his arms around my waist, nuzzling into my neck. "Natasha, I hope you like it?" He asks tentatively.

"Like it, like it?" I turn my head, resting my cheek against his. "It's amazing!" I grab the keys out of his hand and sprint off towards the house with his laughter chasing behind me.

The front door creaks as I push it open and I literally gasp in awe. The inside is as breathtaking as the outside. The décor is old world charm with rooms full of a mix of eclectic pieces of distressed wooden and antique furniture. There is an open fireplace, vintage kitchen, tiled floors covered in tapestry rugs and archways that lead from room to room.

The four huge upstairs bedrooms are of a similar style. The master room has two sets of French doors that lead out onto a romantic balcony covered in sweet smelling roses; their scent fills the room. The whole house is a classic hideaway retreat, more like something off a movie set than real life.

"Natasha, Natasha!" Harry calling me brings me out of my romanticism. His voice is getting closer until I know he is stood on the threshold of the bedroom door because I hear our bags drop with a thud on the vintage tiled floor.

I continue to stare out of the window with my back to him. He is immediately behind me, turning me around towards him. "Natasha?" Then he spots my watery eyes and flushed cheeks. "What's wrong?" He frowns.

All I can do is smile as a few tears bounce down my cheeks and run into the channel of my lips. "Nothing is wrong, this thoughtful surprise trip, this beautiful house, incredible you, is all perfect. I love it and I love you so much, you know that don't you, please tell me you do?" I garble so overawed.

He holds my cheek in his right palm and grasps hold of my right hand in his left, bringing them both up to rest between us by our hearts.

"The moment I saw this place I had to bring you here. I knew you'd adore it. And yes, I do know how much you love me. I feel it, in here, always." He taps our conjoined hands against his heart, wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumb then connects his lips to mine.

After settling in and enjoying some refreshments from the well-stocked fridge, we head back towards the main courtyard for the wine tasting. Despite it being late afternoon, the Californian sunshine beats down relentlessly upon us as we stroll hand-in-hand through the vineyard. The grapes hang plump from the vines surrounded by green leaves that wiggle in the warm breeze.

The large wooden doors that were closed earlier now stand proudly open to reveal the huge hanger-sized space inside. The first thing I notice are the words that grace the end wall in big letters spelling out 'Taste Savor Relish.' The whole place has a retro rock 'n' roll vibe to it. A long stainless steel bar houses glasses that are being filled with red and white wine, pendant lamps hang down from the ceiling, rugs cover the concrete floor and vintage chairs sit at empty tables where board games rest on top waiting to be leisurely played over chatter and wine. This has to be the trendiest tasting room I have ever imagined!

Lisa and her husband Greg greet us and invite us to join a large group already gathered by the bar. Most have been on a wine tour at the vineyard this afternoon but some are locals; here to enjoy the wine tasting evening over company, conversation and canapés.

The whole atmosphere of the evening is delightfully warm. We meet a variety of interesting people of all ages and discuss wine to music, law to media, California to London and the state of the oceans and preservation of marine life. I stand proudly beside Harry engaging in conversation. A glass of wine is in one hand and my other hangs casually at my side. Harry links his pinky finger around mine; a subtle move that no one else notices but nevertheless a moment that beats my heart just a little bit faster and graces contentment upon my lips.

At various points throughout the evening when not stood by his side, I sit and regard Harry. I notice that people naturally migrate towards him. Some because they recognise him but most mainly because he just has a presence that draws people to him. He has a gift for quickly turning a conversation that starts out focused on him onto whoever he is talking with. Most of the time the person doesn't even realise he's done it until he walks away, leaving them with a look of admiration and awe on their faces at his humble and genuine nature. They see how truly special he is and I relish that he is mine.

Everyone is exceptionally friendly and the light early evening turns into the dark late of night when we leave the tasting shed to head back towards the villa. Our arms rest loosely around each other as we stagger on the uneven surface of the track between the vines and it hits me that I have indulged in a little more 'tasting' than I thought. The stars are magnificently bright spread over us like a blanket and I suddenly stop and look skywards to marvel at them.

"You ok?" Harry asks hugging me tighter to his side.

"Yes, just look at how clear and bright they are, the stars I mean." I state pointing upwards in the darkness.

"They are beautiful aren't they."

"It reminds me of the sky at the Loch cottage."

Harry brings me out of my melancholy with pokes at my sides. I escape his clutches and attempt to run away from him but he is too quick and catches me. Lifting me over his shoulder, he runs the rest of the way back with me screaming at him in my drunken stupor.

When we reach the clearing, I am laughing so hard that I can barely breathe. He puts me down smoothly onto my feet then tackles me gently to the ground. The grass is dewy and cold beneath my back but his body over mine is sweaty and hot from his exertions. Our out-of-breath breaths mirror each other in their exaggerated in and out. He peers down at me, studying my face and where his curls have fallen forward, they tickle my nose. He has the mischievous look of a naughty schoolboy about to request his first kiss.

"I made love to you for the first time under the stars in Scotland." He smirks.

"You did indeed." I glare jestingly wide-eyed at him.

He glances up towards the sky then back at me. "We are under the stars again."

"Yes we are." I reply trying to hold in my ridiculous giggles.

"So," he teases over my lips with his, "can I make love to you again under the stars?

I respond back onto his. "No, not tonight."

He is taken aback by my answer initially until I smile craftily. Catching him off guard, I push him off of me onto his back, the momentum taking me with him so I now lay on top of him. My legs slip into the gap between his and he bucks his hips up to meet mine. I can feel him hard beneath me and I press against him eliciting a sharp intake of breath up his nose. His impatient hands slide under my blouse and caress up and down my back causing my whole body to tingle in pleasure at his touch.

Just shy of eight months ago, I could not have even contemplated doing this but as I speak the words out loud I know I can because of him. He gives me love and strength to believe in myself again, to be confident about who I am and to be happy walking around in my skin. He gifts me all of that because he loves me, unconditionally.

"I shall make love to you with the grass as our bed and the stars as our light smiling down upon us."

-*-

The following morning, I open my eyes to an assortment of yesterday's clothes scattered over the floor. Last night in the garden, we fell asleep wrapped around each other and only the pitter-patter of cooling raindrops upon our skin woke us up. After stripping our damp clothes off each other, we crawled into bed and spooned for warmth. We have just woken in the exact same position as we fell asleep. The French doors are slightly ajar and although early, I can tell the day is going to be another scorching one.

Harry opens one eye and his nose crinkles at the end. His raspy singing tones pulsing straight to my core.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Dear Natasha, Happy Birthday to you."

I twist my neck to glance round at him. "Good morning and thank you."

"It's a pleasure wine breath." He looks smug.

"Hey, you can talk! At least I didn't get red lips last night." I nudge my arse back against his prominent morning glory.

"That's because you only drank white." He counters, stroking his hand up my outer thigh before pushing between my legs.

"I don't like red." I smarm, closing my eyes and inhaling sharply as his fingers begin to tease me.

"No, drinking red wine takes time to master, it is an acquired taste." He acts playfully arrogant, biting my earlobe hard between his teeth.

"Oh please, since when did you become a wine connoisseur?" I reach around and take him in my hand.

"Since I met you and found out you drink wine." He moves his hips in time to my motion upon him and nudges my jawline down with his chin to linger his lips against mine.

"You are too sweet and I love you." I mumble as he sucks my lips between his and spills furiously over my fingers.

"Love you too." He growls before immediately ducking underneath the blankets where he has me fisting the sheets and moaning his name in minutes.

In our post orgasmic bliss, we lie on our sides, in silence and facing each other. We spend a few moments simply regarding one another until Harry reaches behind him and produces a card. As I open it, he looks slightly embarrassed and I can see why. It is the cutest, sloppiest 'To My Girlfriend' teddy bear card I have ever seen.

"I know it's cheesy and lame but I couldn't resist."

I silence him by resting my index finger on his lips. "I love it!"

A beating sound interrupts our loving exchanges. We both shoot our stares towards the open French doors and to the bird feeders that hang down from the edge of the balcony rafters. A small bird is feeding from one as it hovers perfectly in mid-air and manically flaps its wings. It is exquisite with its sparkling bright pink throat and emerald feathers.

I feel Harry's mouth brush against my ear and in the softest whisper so as not to disturb the pretty bird I hear one word puff from his mouth, "Hummingbird."

We watch in awe as the little bird feeds for a few more seconds then flies away.

"It was so pretty, just like your tattoo of us." I say kissing the two birds inked over his heart. "Did you order that display especially for my birthday?" I giggle.

He laughs out loud, "I have a few surprises planned for today and would give you anything you know that but even I cannot summon nature on demand! I do know they are common around here though and hoped we'd see one and now we have."

"Amazingly beautiful."

"Indeed." He says kissing me and rubbing his nose over mine. "Right, don't' move, breakfast in bed." He jumps up and disappears downstairs, appearing twenty minutes later with tea, croissants, butter and jam, orange juice and chopped bananas and almonds. On the side of the tray are cards from Anne and Robin, Des, Gemma, my Dad, Alan at the charity and Alison and Jackson. I am touched that everyone has been so thoughtful and remembered me.

We shower and dress then set off on foot again towards the vineyard. Lisa greets me with birthday good wishes and so begins our personal tour. We walk as Lisa talks us through the whole process from planting to bottling.

"So, all our grapes are cut from the vine by human hand with shears not machine. When the grapes are harvested determines the acidity, sweetness and flavor of the wine. We aim to harvest at night not during the day to maximize efficiency, beat the heat and capture the grapes at stable sugar levels." She bends down to show us harvest ready grapes and pulls some off the vine for us to taste.

"Once harvested, the grapes are then put through a de-stemmer machine and lightly crushed. White grapes are then pressed for their juice, leaving the skins behind. The pure juice is transferred to tanks to settle then filtered to rid of sediment before fermentation starts."

"Is it different for red wine?" Harry asks because both of us are complete novices.

"Yes, for red grapes the whole grape with skin still on goes straight into the vat to start fermentation. This is because the skins give red wine its colour. If the skins were removed, red grapes would also make white wine."

"You learn something new every day, I didn't know that." I reply.

Lisa then describes the process of fermentation where the sugar converts to alcohol and the different methods that can be used. She also explains the ageing process outlining years or months, use of stainless steel or oak barrels, new oak barrels or used, American oak barrels or French oak barrels. Her knowledge is impressive and her passion evident.

"They call a wine reaching its time for bottling reaching its 'expression.' Some white wines are ready to be bottled after a few months, most dry reds need 18-24 months before bottling. Screw cap or cork is dependent on the winemaker's preference. Here we prefer cork for red, screw top for our white wines."

"This has been so interesting, thanks Lisa." I thank her kindly.

"It's my pleasure but we are not quite finished yet. I understand your favourite wine is Viognier?"

I nod enthusiastically in agreement.

"Well, Viognier is a full bodied wine with a lush, soft character. It has natural aromatics that include peach, pears and violets. Winemakers have to be careful with it because these aromatics can be destroyed by too much exposure to oxygen. Barrel fermentation of this wine is very skillful but Viognier thrives here in California because the grapes adore the warm climate that is not so hot to make the grape develop too high levels of sugar before the flavours can fully develop. Californian Viogniers are higher in alcohol compared to other wines made from the grape."

"Probably explains why you were so pissed last night!" Harry mutters under his breath causing me to elbow him in the ribs!

"Lisa, should white wine be served really chilled?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Viognier should be served at around 52F to allow the rich flavors to thrive. That is cooler than room temperature but generally, white wine should not be served too cold as your tongue cannot taste it properly."

"And how many vines does it take to make one bottle of wine?" Harry interjects.

"Well, one acre of grapes contains approximately 1075 vines. One vine contains 30 to 40 clusters. One cluster contains 130 grapes. In general, a single bottle of wine is made up of around 900 individual grapes. This equates to about 10 clusters. So each vine could produce roughly 3 or 4 bottles of wine."

We have walked so far during our discussions that the winery buildings are a blur in the distance. Lisa indicates she will leave us to it and walk back. This leaves me slightly confused until Harry turns me to face some vines, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Tell me what do you see Natasha?"

"I see vines as far as the eye can see."

"What you see immediately in front of you is Viognier grapevines. There are around 200 vines to be precise. That is enough to make around about 600 bottles of wine per year at harvest depending on the yield. The first harvest of these vines should take place in a few months and the bottles should come off the press in about 12 months after that. Happy Birthday, darling."

"What?" With so many wine facts swimming around my head he has me completed baffled.

"They are yours Natasha, your vines, and your grapes to produce your wine."

"Oh my God, you bought me my own wine. Shit!" I squeal like an excited pig.

He squeezes me tightly and kisses my shoulder. "You can have as many of the bottles as you like for you or to give to friends and family. Any bottles not used will be sold and profits returned to you. These vines are to be harvested tomorrow and you are invited to handpick the first grapes off the vines."

Can this man keep topping his surprises? I do not think so this time. I launch myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and knocking his fedora off his head in the process.

"This is incredible Harry, I don't know what to say."

I sense him staring over my shoulder into the distance. When I look at him he is pointing away from us with his tongue playfully hanging out. "So, would you like to see your vines from the air?"

I glance in the direction of his index finger and my eyes widen in shock. A hot air balloon is inflating in preparation for takeoff. It seems his surprises really do have no end. He grabs my hand and we make our way over. Whilst the team gets the balloon ready, we are given a safety briefing. Harry then helps me into the basket before climbing in behind me. Two men on the ground steady the ropes as our flight attendant opens the burner and hot air flames into the balloon envelope. The ropes go slack and we lift off the ground in a swift motion.

Soon the view below looks tiny as we soar higher. I rest my head back against Harry's shoulder. The day is so clear that I can just about make out the ocean on one side and Los Padres National Forest on the other. The air up here is warm as the balloon majestically floats; the only sound that interrupts my thoughts is the occasional burst of the flame into the balloon canopy or the clicking of the shutter on Harry's camera.

We return to where we took off and Harry points out the markers that clearly indicate the area of grapes, my grapes! The balloon begins to slowly descend and I can see the winery and our hideaway house. I tug on Harry's sleeve and point towards the villa. I've noticed another car has pulled up next to Harry's. He just shrugs his shoulders and shouts that perhaps it is the housekeeper doing their daily visit.

As the balloon descends further, four people come more into focus. They are stood in the middle of the lawn, shielding their eyes from the sun under their hands to look up at us. As we get closer and closer, it all finally falls into place.

"Harry, you didn't. Tell me, you didn't." My shocked look at him is reflected back at me as a gorgeous smug smile.

"Umm, yes I did actually!"

As soon as the balloon lands and it is safe, I am over the side of the basket so fast and running towards the group.

"Anne, Robin, Gemma!" I hug them all in turn and thank them for their birthday wishes then I turn to face the last person of the group that Harry has so lovingly assembled for my special day.

He holds his safe arms open and swallows me up as I walk into his hug and he kisses my forehead.

"Dad, this is an amazing surprise."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Happy Birthday sweetheart."

Once I get over the shock that Harry has flown not only Anne and Robin to join me but my Dad as well, we all settle down and enjoy a picnic lunch at the house. Fresh bread, cheeses, chutneys and of course grapes satisfy our appetites as family togetherness and laughter fills the air.

In the afternoon, Harry has organised for Dad, Anne and Robin to take the balloon flight as well as do the vineyard tour. With is camera in his hand, he escorts them off to their activities whilst Gemma and I laze around and enjoy the surroundings of the cottage. We catch some rays, read and chat, much to Harry's amusement when he returns at what women possibly find all day every day to talk about! Our only interruption is a small van that arrives and three people that traipse backwards and forwards carrying boxes into the house from which I am currently banned from entering.

The others return late afternoon and after freshening up and changing, we all gather in the early evening for drinks in the garden. The six of us sit at a beautifully dressed table covered in flowers and candles in the surroundings of the gardens.  We are treated to three courses of Italian splendor of tempting pasta, delicious salads, olives, oil and breads with wine followed by tiramisu and coffee. A special delivery of red velvet cupcakes accompanies coffee and a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' as I blow out my candles.

After dinner, Harry plays his guitar and we sing along to old tunes. I look around at the most important people in my life. Robin's face is flushed from too much red wine, Anne's smile is beautifully wide as always, Gemma's song requests challenge Harry and she teases him when he cannot quite master the notes to 'Bring Me Sunshine.' Not one to be defeated, he walks away and disappears behind a tree. I can hear the feint strumming of strings then he returns and plays it note perfect as everyone sings along.

Then there is my Dad; his arm is around me as I cuddle into his side, just like I did when I was a little girl.

"I so wish Mum was here with us. She would be so proud of you, you know. Just like I am." He says it so quietly that only I can hear.

"She is here Dad, in here, always." I softly reply resting my palm on my chest.

As the evening closes in, we all say our goodnights and retire to bed. I am in the bathroom brushing my teeth and surprised to hear a scrapping sound as though something is being dragged across the floor. I turn to see Harry standing only in his boxers with his hands on his hips. He is slightly out of breath because he has moved the bed. It now rests with the bottom of the bed facing and across the open French doors.

He kneels on the mattress, bouncing up and down and beckons me to join him. "I tested the walls you know."

"You did what?" I question as I lean up against the bathroom doorframe.

"You know, knock knock to see how thick they are." He says like it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

"And how thick are they exactly?" I cannot help but laugh at his adorableness.

He shakes his head and screws his nose up. "Not thick enough for the amount of noise you make!"

I swat the air pretending it is his arm. "Bloody cheek! You shouldn't be so good in bed then should you." I poke my tongue out at him suggestively.

"Enough of that or I won't care that our parents are in the house and I'll make you scream louder than you ever have."

"Promises, promises!"

"Stop it!"

I laugh at him getting all worked up and hold onto the bottom of his t-shirt I am wearing and dance around the room, turning to wiggle my bum towards him.

"I said stop, now, I'm not looking, no." He hides behind a pillow then peeks out to see me now standing in front of him smiling. I lift my shirt and bounce my boobs at him and he dives back behind the pillow. "Enough woman!"

"Indulge me, it is my birthday." I laugh.

"Every day is my birthday when I am with you." He discards the pillow and grabs me around my waist, pulling me towards him. My knees hit the edge of the bed as he wraps around me.

"Harry Edward Styles, shall I grab the sick bucket now?" I poke at his shoulder jovially.

"I just love you so much, you know that. Please let me show it." His green eyes look intensely into mine.

"Let you show it? There is nothing more you could have done today to show it." I swipe my nose over his and peck his lips. "Today was the most perfect, amazing day. Thank you for it all and you."

He kisses me deeply then we slip in between the sea of cotton floral sheets and soft blankets. I fall asleep with the breeze tickling across face, the stars happily watching over me and my whole being safely encased by the one I love.