Page 39 of A Place in the Sun
‘We?’
‘I have some helpers on their way. Alessandro and his older brother, Enrico.’
‘You’re good to them,’ I say.
‘It’s just Alessandro and Enrico, looking after theirnonna. They’re kind to her. But it’s good they can get some work experience and skills. Alessandro started to wander down a wrong path. Enrico’s been trying tohold things together at home. He’s smart. He needs to work, and it’s good for them to learn how to do stuff, and to keep Alesssandro busy over the summer.’
He grabs the broom I’ve left propped by the stairs and sweeps the piles of plaster towards the door. I pull it open and there, hand raised, on the doorstep, is a caller, standing in a plume of white dust.
‘Scusi, scusi,’ I say. She closes her eyes but stands stoically still. It’s one of thenonnas, Teresa, I think, with the flowered white dish. I look down and see she’s holding it now.
‘Oh, Teresa,scusi,’ says Giovanni, putting down his broom and rushing out to her.
‘Giovanni,’ she says, as he greets her warmly and apologizes. Then she turns to me. ‘I brought lasagne. You said how much you liked it so I made you another.’
‘Oh, that’s so kind of you,’ I say, holding out my hands to take the dish, knowing resistance would be futile and wondering if goats like lasagne.
She peers around me into the mess of the house. ‘Terrible. It’s been abandoned for so long.’ Then, ‘I heard you were widowed.’
‘Um … yes.’ I’m not sure how to answer. ‘It’s just me and children here, as I said.’
‘Poor children,’ she says, as shrieks of laughter float to us from the back garden.
‘They’re adjusting. It’ll be the two year anniversary in just under six weeks, the day after he bought this place.’Aimee’s birthday … when we were waiting for him to get home from the restaurant to have a special tea.
There is more laughter from the garden and the dog comes running in with Mr Fluffy, Aimee and Luca chasing him, followed by a goat. They race out of the front door and round to the back. No one bats an eyelid.
‘It’s good to have children here,’ she says, a little misty-eyed. ‘I was widowed. I know your pain.’
‘Grazie,’ I say, and she turns to leave.
Giovanni is smiling as he leans on his broom. ‘Ciao, Teresa, e scusi,’ he repeats. She pats his cheek. As she walks away, we watch another figure puffing up the hill, carrying an orange lasagne dish. ‘Oh, please, God, not another!’ I may have said it under my breath. Giovanni gives me a wicked smile, teasing me and enjoying the fun of the moment, just like Marco would have.
Nonna Lucia approaches and stands in front of Nonna Teresa. They stare at each other, give a curt nod and politely wish each other a good morning. Neither makes to move around the other.
‘Just say thank you,’ Giovanni whispers.
‘It’s okay. I’ve got this.Lucia, buongiorno.’
She lifts her chin. ‘You ate all the lasagne I made, so I made you more.’ She holds out the dish I recently returned. I’m feeling hot in the morning sunshine.
‘I already brought lasagne,’ says Nonna Teresa.
‘But she ate all of mine last time, so she must prefer it.’
I can feel the heat in the air and the tension between the women. ‘It’s very generous of you …’
‘You didn’t like my lasagne?’ Nonna Lucia raises a grey eyebrow.
‘Oh, we loved it!’ I say quickly, and step forward, taking the dish in my other hand. I’m now holding two heavy dishes of lasagne. ‘Yours too, Teresa.’ I nod to her dish.
The two women fold their arms over their chests, neither wanting to be the first to leave.
The sun is shining brightly in my eyes, and with no hands free to cover them, I don’t see the other person arrive until I hear her voice … and feel her presence. It’s practically frosty under the hot Tuscan sun.
‘I can see I’ve been beaten to it,’ says a third voice. Nonna Rosa. I can see her large silhouette against the sun, holding a lasagne dish.
Nonna Teresa is the first to speak: ‘They have lasagne, I’ve made them one. They liked mine so much they finished it all and gave back an empty dish.’
