Page 50 of My Lemon Grove Summer
And as I start to decipher the recipe, with Lennie’s help, and we chat and drink wine, everything really does feel perfect.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘Luca!’ I call as I arrive at the lemon grove the following afternoon. The smell of the lemon blossom once again seems to wrap itself around me in greeting.
‘Hey!Ciao!’ He raises a hand, then walks towards me and kisses me on both cheeks, just like Giuseppe does. Why, then, does this feel so intimate? Why do I feel the urge to touch my cheek where he’s placed that kiss?
‘I’ve come to work, as agreed. Where do you want me to start?’ I say, looking around, keen to get stuck in.
‘No rush, let me show you the place first,’ he says, pointing to a long single-storey building.
‘And I brought my measurements for you,’ I say, opening my bag with a slightly shaking hand.
‘No need,’ he smiles. ‘First I need to find out what sort of a dress portrays you, the real Zelda. What makes you tick. What made you fall in love,’ he says softly. ‘And then I can do measurements when we know what to make.’
I find myself giving an involuntary shiver at the thought of it, and grab my water bottle and take a big swig.
‘So why did you come back?’ I ask as I’m cutting the lemons from the trees.
‘My father needed me. With my mother gone, he couldn’t cope with everything, running the family business and the restaurant.’
‘Your mother, did she . . . die?’
‘No, she lives in another part of the island now. She . . . well, she and my father parted company. He needed someone to keep an eye on him, with his heart in a bad way.’ He reaches up and picks a lemon from a high branch, his shirt flapping in the gentle breeze, giving a flash of his tummy button and the dark hairs leading down from there. I practically cut my finger off.
‘Ouch!’
‘Careful! You okay?’
‘Yes, fine.’ I suck my finger, hard, by way of distracting myself.
‘So, tell me about you and Lennie,’ he says.
And I throw myself into telling him about how the two of us met. The times we’ve shared. ‘We’ve known each other all our adult lives,’ I finish, ‘and we realised that . . . well, it made sense.’
‘Sense? When did sense ever have anything to do with love?’ laughs Luca.
‘We just realised that everything we’d been looking for was right under our noses. It was there all the time.’
‘More a long, slow burn than love at first sight.’ He smiles, a wide, lazy smile.
‘Exactly! And you?’
‘I met someone in Milan. But she didn’t like it back here. Besides that, my father kept trying to introduce me to people from other families he knew. Like I’ve said, he’s a very untrusting person. He likes to keep business in the family.’
‘And for the family,’ I can’t help but say.
‘Yes.’
‘And now? Do you think you’ll return to Milan?’
He looks at me thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know. Depends . . .’
‘On what?’
‘On what’s here for me. My father is still very good at making us all feel guilty. He likes us to stay close. Right now, I’m happy. I have everything I need.’
