Page 90 of My Lemon Grove Summer
‘Here it is!’ Valerie finally announces, practically falling over her own feet to open the door.
For a moment my heart leaps and I wonder whether Luca might have returned for the wedding, and then I see a red Ferrari pull up and we all gasp. The door opens and Matteo gets out, wearing a sharp suit and dark glasses, and my heart dips again.
I check the clock. An hour from now, I will be married to Lennie and life here at Il Limoneto will be over. I step out of the double doors into the courtyard.
‘Il Nonno sent the car, to wish you luck and happiness,’ Matteo tells me. ‘He says he wishes you everything you wish for yourself,’ and the words hang in the air for some reason and we all look around at each other.
I quickly scoop up the netting of my dress, grab Tabitha’s glass from her hand and take a big slug of the Prosecco under my short veil before handing back the empty glass. I can’t be with Luca, I think, but I can make the ones I love happy, and that will have to be enough.
My housemates wave me off, with the dogs sitting side by side in front of them, as if part of this big family. I clutch my beautiful bouquet, which was delivered to the house early this morning, as we drive in awkward silence, through the lemon groves and then into the cobbled streets of the town. Matteo’s thick, dark-skinned arms are tense where he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s the only clue to how he’s feeling. I am about to marry the man he loves.
At last he pulls up at the bottom of the steps leading to the town hall. Città d’Oro is out in force; everyone is there, including Lennie, waiting to meet me, looking as nervous as a kitten.
Matteo goes to open the car door, and I put my hand on his arm, though I have no idea what I’m going to say. He freezes. ‘I do . . . I do love him,’ I say. ‘I do want to make him happy.’ Not what I wanted to say at all. I wanted to find a way to put this right. But I don’t know how.
I step out of the car, hoping my shaking knees will actually hold me up, and look up at Lennie, so smartly dressed, so handsome. I feel immensely proud, as if I’m watching him marry someone else from the sidelines. Only I’m not; it’s me, I remind myself. Matteo holds the car door, looking straight ahead, his wraparound glasses hiding his expression. I feel like I’m being led to the gallows rather than to my wedding day. This isn’t right. For any of us.
‘You look beautiful,’ says Lennie, taking my hand.
‘So do you,’ I reply, and we both smile, gentle, affectionate smiles, before he holds out his arm to me for support, just as he always has.
We walk towards the steps leading up to the town hall, where Giuseppe is standing, beaming from ear to ear. Clouds have tumbled in and the sky is darkening, but nothing is going to dim his smile.
As we climb the steps, the townspeople following behind us, our housemates pile from the minibus, which is covered in ribbons and lemon blossom. Valerie has adopted Sicilian parking and left the bus where it stopped, bottom out, and is walking quickly beside us. Her face is worried, an expression that only the mother of the bride and groom is allowed to wear, but she breaks into a smile when she sees Giuseppe, as if here is someone to share the day with. And for a moment, I wonder if I’m seeing the same thing there that I saw between Lennie and Matteo, but for once I’m going to say nothing.
I look at Lennie again. Valerie checks over her shoulder nervously, and I wonder if she is worrying about Etna after all. The air has become quite heavy. Everyone looks a little anxious, keen to get into the town hall and get the ceremony under way.
‘Prego!’ Giuseppe stands aside to welcome us into the big room opposite his office. I look at the chairs laid out in straight lines, then back at Giuseppe’s office and the disorder there: piles of paper and damp, crumbling walls. It feels like my life: on the one hand the world of marriage and home and the keys to being a grown-up that I’ve wanted for so long; on the other hand, comfortingly familiar chaos.
We stand in the hall, the wedding party behind us, keen to move in and be seated. Yet something won’t let me walk forward.
‘Would you like a moment?’ says Giuseppe.
‘Actually . . .’ I try and swallow through my dry throat, and look at Matteo, glasses still on, hiding his feelings from the outside world as I have a feeling he must have done for a very long time. Everyone should be free to love who they want. Luca shouldn’t have been bullied into getting engaged to his second cousin, and Matteo should be free to take his own path too. It’s a basic human right. ‘Actually, I would,’ I tell Giuseppe.
I turn away from the beautifully decorated room – it’s all for show, I think, covering over the cracks – and walk towards the comfort of Giuseppe’s office, where I feel at home. Barry and Ralph usher everyone into the big room and put on some music, and I can’t help but smile as Dean Martin starts singing ‘Amore’, reminding me of the bittersweet night when we held the street party and everyone came and I finally felt we were home . . . and Luca left.
Lennie follows me into the office and pushes the heavy door half closed behind him.
‘You okay, Zeld? Nervous? Don’t be,’ he says. ‘It’s only me.’
‘And only you is just brilliant. I love you, Lennie. I’ve never loved anyone more. You are my whole family . . .’
And then I take a deep breath and do the thing I’ve been trying not to do. I give in to my impulsiveness and finally open the floodgates, and it rushes out.
‘I can’t marry you, Lennie. I can’t do this.’
‘What?’ His face does a strange thing of falling yet looking relieved at the same time.
Valerie slips in and stands by the door, but I keep my eyes on Lennie.
‘But . . .’ he stutters, ‘we came here as a couple. The pact . . . being loyal to each other. It’s always been you and me. This is what we wanted. A new life and this project.’
‘And I want to stay, but as me. I want us to be true to ourselves. We took a risk when we came here; we need to take that risk again now, take a chance on life . . . and love. I love you, Lennie, but I’m not in love with you and you’re not in love with me. We thought it was enough, but I can’t let you marry me when I know you have a chance at real love with someone else.’
We both look towards the door, thinking about Matteo in his sharp suit, made no doubt by Luca. At least a little bit of Luca is still here, I think. I look down at my dress and imagine his hands working away at the stitching. They have handled every bit of this dress, with love and care.
‘I was wrong,’ I say. ‘We shouldn’t be settling for second best. Not that you or I are second best, but there is such a thing as love at first sight. I know it now, because . . .’ I can’t tell him that I felt it when I saw Luca, because Luca is gone. But I did get to taste true love, just for a while, and I know that it’s real enough. ‘Because I saw it in you and Matteo. We both deserve that chance and to take it when it comes along.’
