Chapter 21
Sicily is nothing like you’d expect. It is the exact opposite of Northern Italy, where everything is regulated and scheduled and seamless.
As soon as the doors of the helicopter ambulance open, the first thing that hits me is the heat.
And the fragrance in the air. Lemon, orange and tangerine blossoms, to be exact.
Where Villa dei Respiri sat above a calm lake among secular pine trees and an organised botanical garden, Sicily is a glorified chaos of the senses.
It’s crazy that you can actually smell flowers instead of the fumes so typical of airports. Then, on a second breath, you can smell the grass and the trees in the copse that you have to walk through to get to the car park. And if you look up, you will see Etna towering over you and the city.
An ambulance is there to meet us. Aldo has certainly planned this Operation Limoncello well. I’m glad he and Dad have had the foresight to be so organised. They must have been planning this since the moment Mum got her diagnosis.
Aldo takes my hand as the ambulance doors open and the staff transfer my mother inside. Aldo and I sit next to each other as the medic team go over their procedures and Mum is finally strapped in,
I watch Aldo as he takes in the scene with pained eyes and I squeeze his hand. He truly loves her, and I’d be completely lost without him right now.
‘She’ll be okay,’ he says to me, squeezing my hand back.
‘She saved my life, you know? She tried to stay away, but then she came back as a match as my kidney donor, and she couldn’t stay away, knowing that I would die if she didn’t fly over that very night.
She gave up your happiness for my life, and I am so ashamed of it.
‘She could have returned home after she donated her kidney to me. But instead, she stayed. And I didn’t ask her to go.
You must know that she loved your father very much, and she still does – just not in that way.
But he is a good man, and he understood.
I think he always knew. I’m so sorry, Olivia.
But you know, she really wants to try and atone with you…
’ his voice catches in his throat, ‘…before it’s too late. ’
‘Oh, Aldo! What can I do to make up for all of this? For how horribly I’ve behaved for all these years! I didn’t know…’
‘There will be a lot to do at home. We have a lot to face. We must be strong, and we will be.’
I nod, swallowing back my tears. ‘Thank you, Aldo, for loving her so much.’
‘You can relax now, Olivia. We’re finally home.’
*
My mother and Aldo’s home, Villa Gelsomino, is an antique villa on the southern coast of Sicily.
The northern side faces a vast countryside of green wheat swaying in the warm breeze, and endless orchards yielding summer fruits, while the south side teeters over a cliff facing the Mediterranean Sea.
There is a staircase leading to the beach carved into the rock, the one Cassie told me about, and a handrail to hang onto.
The stone walls of the facade are carved into ornate Baroque columns, while many sculpted faces and animals festoon the balconies.
It is a noble’s family home, a thing of dreams. The house staff pauses in the entrance hall, hushed in respectful concern as they take our bags while Aldo quietly debriefs them.
I look around, taking in the cool interiors, the marble floors and the relaxed elegance surrounding me.
My mother has been living a life of luxury, here, adored by a man I didn’t know.
She has an entire life that I knew nothing of.
The staff immediately splinter off to their duties. It is obvious they, too, are a part of Operation Limoncello. Some of the medical-support staff are to stay in the house until she is better. A maid, Filomena, has been assigned to me, she explains as she ushers me up the stairs.
‘Signor Amore wants your room to be close to your mother’s so you can visit her any time you want,’ she tells me.
‘Thank you.’
‘There is a button by the bed in your room. Anything you need, you call me, please.’
‘Will you be taking care of my mother as well?’ I ask.
‘No, that is the honour of Concetta, the chief of staff,’ Filomena explains. She sounds like she’s ready for anything. They all are, and I am so grateful to them. And to Aldo.
A few hours later, after I’ve showered and sat in silence with Mum, who is still sleeping, my family arrives.
I know that my father has kept the secret, but my children are no fools. They have sensed that something isn’t quite right and Joe is puffing his chest out, trying to be brave, while his lower lip is trembling with the anticipation of bad news.
On seeing me, both Joe and Cassie throw themselves into my arms.
‘They guessed something was up,’ my father says apologetically. ‘They were terrified that something had happened to you, so I told them about Susan’s leg. That’s all they know.’
‘Mum,’ Joe says. ‘Are you okay?’
Cassie says nothing. She’s buried her face into my shoulder and she’s not letting go.
‘It’ll be all right, sweethearts,’ I whisper to them both. Joe nods, believing me, while Cassie is shaking like she’s about to come apart; my father looks as if he’s aged ten years since I last saw him.
‘George!’ Aldo whispers, taking a long step forward and pulling him into his embrace.
They seem as if they had been friends their entire life and I am humbled by the respect and affection these two men have for each other.
They share a love for my mother, of course, but I am not prepared for the intensity of their relationship.
As far as I know, they’ve enjoyed a degree of civility fuelled by my father’s yearly visits to accompany my children.
I had no idea that a true friendship had developed all these years while I stewed in my bitterness.
These two men, through kindness and civility, have managed to navigate through many very difficult years thanks to each other’s help.
Despite having been rivals. They simply put it all behind them and got on with it.
Now Dad’s kind words and his friendship with Mum and Aldo despite everything are beginning to seem feasible, if not yet quite making sense to me.
I still need to understand how, and why, it all happened.
‘Are you good, my friend?’ Aldo asks my dad, who wipes his eyes and nods.
‘Yes, I am. Look who I’ve brought you,’ he says with a smile and Aldo opens his arms to my children who practically fly into his arms, kissing his cheeks and calling him ‘Nonno’.
‘Welcome back, little ones,’ he says, his voice tender but his face drawn by too much worrying.
And then, with an audible hitch in my breath, I turn and see Markus in the doorway. He’s hanging back, not sure of how much time to give us.
‘Markus,’ Aldo says, holding out a hand. ‘So glad you are here with us. This is a time for family and you are family.’
Markus slides me a look and it’s all I can do to keep myself from throwing myself at him like that damsel in distress.
‘I wish it were a happier time… I’ve heard a lot about you,’ Markus says.
At that, Aldo chuckles and points at Dad. ‘From this one, yes? Don’t believe a single word. Now, let’s get you all fed, you must be starving and exhausted. Come, come into the living room.’
Living room is an understatement. It has an enormous, white, circular sofa with a huge coffee table in the centre absolutely covered with local Sicilian food.
I am grateful that we don’t have to all sit at a table because we are all too exhausted and I have no appetite whatsoever, but I must admit that Aldo and Mum’s cook has done them proud.
There are antipasti of every sort, from aubergine and Parma ham tidbits, to ham- and pesto-filled puff pastry. There are mini sandwiches and salads and risotto and caponata and arancini, the rice balls Mum loves so much.
‘Children, it’s important that you eat so you are nice and strong for your nonna, sì?’ Aldo instructs Joe and Cassie, who reluctantly sit down and pick at the food. ‘Everyone, please, Susan will have my head otherwise.’
I sit next to Markus, who passes me a plate on which he’s put a few canapés and savoury muffins.
Aldo pours George a shot of limoncello and they both drink simultaneously, as if they’ve rehearsed this for years. Perhaps they have.
‘So what happens now?’ I ask Aldo.
‘I’ve hired the best nurse in the province to tend to your mother,’ he answers, drained. ‘Don’t show her you’re worried. She wouldn’t want you to be. Just be jovial when she wakes.’
My father nods. ‘Thank you, Aldo, for loving her so much.’
Aldo exhales. ‘Thank you, George, for your support and friendship all these years. It means so much to us.’
This exchange has moved something inside me even if I can’t explain it. Unconditional love. Consideration. Forgiveness. I could take a page out of their book.
*
That night when I tuck Joe into his bed, I hold him closer, tighter and longer than I usually do, which everyone at home jokes is long enough as it is.
But tonight, and for always, I will hug him so he will never ever doubt what he means to me.
And I know he doesn’t, because he basks in the warmth of my love.
When I get to Cassie’s door, I hesitate.
Too much, too soon? Is she too upset? But then I tell myself this: no one knows how long we have, and which hug may be our last. Bad things happen all the time and I want to give as much love as I can.
So I knock on her door, half-expecting her not to hear due to her ever-present ear buds.
‘Come in,’ she calls.
I open the door to see her just as she’s tossing some tissues into the wastepaper basket. Her eyes are red from crying and when she sees it’s me she springs towards me.
‘Mum,’ she says. ‘I was going to come and find you.’
Now that alone is a huge improvement. I am only sorry about the circumstances that have brought us to this.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asks softly.