Chapter 9
Hanna
I adjust the grasses of the wildflower bouquet in my hand and then knock on the door of the modern bungalow. Vico's invitation to dinner came as a surprise. After barely smiling the whole time, I was sure he wouldn't want to spend the evening with me. He's peculiar, yet I'm excited.
And who knows, maybe the dinner will turn out to be enjoyable?
The door opens, but it's not Vico who greets me; instead, a stranger with very short dark hair stands before me. "Ciao, you must be Hanna. I'm Pietro, welcome," he says. I return his greeting, and he waves me inside. "Just go straight ahead. Follow your nose."
I step inside, slip off my sneakers, and venture farther into the unfamiliar house.
A delightful aroma of roasted onions, tomato sauce, and a whole herb garden surrounds me even before I enter the large open-plan kitchen at the end of the hallway. A woman with buttock-length corkscrew curls stands with her back to me, stirring a massive pot with a wooden spoon. She chatters excitedly with another woman who takes a stack of plates from a hanging cupboard. When she turns around to face me, I instantly know that she must be Camilla.
As Vico hinted yesterday, she is heavily pregnant. Curiously, I continue to look around, but Vico seems to be absent. A hint of disappointment creeps in.
"Hey, this is Hanna," Pietro says from behind me, and immediately, both women greet me warmly.
"Hello, everyone," I say, setting down my bouquet and hurrying toward Camilla.
She extends her hand to me. "It’s nice to meet you."
"Take a seat in your chair, sister," the curly-haired woman at the stove turns around and grins at me. "I'm Alessia," she says, and I don't even have to ask. Despite their different hairstyles, I can tell right away that they are sisters.
While Camilla settles into the cozy armchair with the help of Pietro, I stand awkwardly in the kitchen. I observe how Camilla and Pietro nuzzle their noses together, locking eyes deeply. He whispers something to her, almost pleadingly. His hand rests on her cheek, and a slim gold ring glistens on his finger.
As if drawn by an invisible force, my gaze searches for Camilla's right hand. There, I find—albeit on her little finger—the same ring. They are married. And soon, they will have a baby and be a perfect family. Immediately, a longing stirs inside me, as I haven't had a real family in a long time. It's just Noah and me, and even that bond has weakened lately. He and Elina are now a unit, but at least I still have Florian, and I hope that soon we'll be able to afford to start a family of our own.
To dispel the rising longing, I ask Alessia for a vase, arrange my bouquet in it, and place it on the dining table. The violet blossoms form a beautiful contrast to the bright yellow broom flowers. "Can I help with the preparations?"
Pietro immediately jumps up. "You are our guest," he says, signaling me to take a seat on the sofa next to Camilla's chair. "I'll take care of it."
Alessia's warm laughter drifts over from the kitchenette. "As if you knew how to use the stove."
All three burst into laughter. It's so contagious that I no longer want to be skeptical. Florian's concern was unfounded; the Olivettas are a warmhearted family. Only Vico is strange. Will he still come? It would be a chance to find out what lies behind his impenetrable facade.
Before I take a seat on the sofa, I notice a row of photos on a shelf. Curiously, I step closer and give Camilla a questioning look. "May I?"
She nods, so I study the pictures more closely. My attention is immediately drawn to a slightly younger version of Vico in a photo, with his arms around Camilla and Alessia. But another woman is there. Her wavy hair, styled in an ombre fashion, falls over her shoulders. With her bright red lips and high cheekbones, she looks like a model.
I tap the photo. "Is that Vico's girlfriend?" I ask, wondering at the same time why I want to know.
"That's Aurora. She's the star of the family." A warm smile crosses Camilla's face. "My sister wanted to become a dancer, but…"
So she's not Vico's girlfriend. Interesting.
"She's currently working as a server. In France," Camilla says with a wistful tone.
"Mm-hmm," I reply absentmindedly. Is Vico single?
"I miss her a lot…family is family." She sighs, but I barely register it because I can't help but take another look at the picture.
Vico smiles at me, but his eyes are so sad that suddenly, I wish I could comfort him. Maybe …
"Dinner is ready," Alessia's call interrupts my thoughts.
I whirl around and see her placing a steaming ceramic pot on the wooden table. Pietro invites me to sit down with the others at the well-set table.
"This is Ribollita," Camilla explains, beaming, as she passes me a plate. "A true Tuscan specialty."
As she says it, it immediately gives me the feeling that they prepared the dish today just for me. Touched, I taste a spoonful of the creamy soup, apparently made from beans, cabbage, and loads of vegetables.
A burst of flavors fills my mouth. I taste thyme and marjoram, as well as robust notes of onions and garlic. The tomato base has a pleasant sweetness.
"It tastes fantastic," I say convincingly, bringing a satisfied smile to Alessia's face. "You're a great cook."
"She has to be," Camilla says, handing me the bread basket and gesturing to her sister. "She's studying biochemistry in Rome," she says with such pride that my heart tightens momentarily. "And cooking is just chemistry, too."
I look at Alessia in amazement. "You don't live here?"
Earlier, she seemed as though she did. And even what Camilla just said about the value of family didn't make me doubt it.
Alessia dips a piece of white bread into the soup and takes a bite. "I moved out almost four years ago. But I come to visit whenever I can." She shoots a furtive glance at her sister.
What does that mean? Do they assure each other that they will always be there for one another? Or is it more of an exchange of secretive information that they want to keep from me?
I'm sure I'm just imagining these strange vibrations, but I still feel compelled to ask a few questions. Florian wants to know if the Olivettas are trustworthy. He'll want evidence. Unfortunately.
"Where is Vico today?" Of course, it's not the most important topic, but it's the only question that's been lingering in my mind all along.
Again, the sisters look at each other. "He had to work," Camilla shrugs, hastily turning her attention back to her soup.
"Does he live here with you?" I ask further, even though it's not really important.
Shaking her head, she reaches for her glass of water. "He wouldn't be able to stand that for a moment." Her grin doesn't match the turmoil in her eyes.
She seems sad. Why? "Why is he so…"
"Enough about us. Tell us what you want to visit while you're here." It's Alessia who interrupted me mid-sentence and now looks at me expectantly with her sharp eyes.
Perhaps she thinks it's a good topic, but it's not. The checklist is endless, and Vico's behavior this afternoon made it clear to me that I'll have to tackle it alone. He probably knew nothing about joint excursions and expert assessments, even though Florian assured me that someone would take care of me and all my questions.
While we enjoy the main course - a delicious fresh dish of squid and chard - I list the points on the list that I can vaguely remember. I'm embarrassed that I've gone through the documents a hundred times and still can't remember everything. Occasionally, I have to search for the appropriate Italian terms, but the longer I speak, the more fluid it becomes.
"Can you recommend any other highlights?" I ask finally and lean back in my chair with a full stomach. The meal was wonderful.
Pietro mops up the last of the sauce with bread. "You have the best tour guide by your side. Vico will show you everything worth seeing."
Ah, so he did know about the arrangement after all? Still, he dismissed me with a quick tour. Did my daydreaming in the living room shock him so much that he wanted nothing to do with me anymore?
His reasons should not matter to me, yet the thought makes me sad. "I'm afraid he won't. He just gave me a travel guide, and then he was gone."
"He didn't do that!" Camilla slams her hand onto the table with an incredulous expression, causing the plates to rattle. "He can't just…" Tears fill her eyes out of nowhere.
Alessia swallows hard too, reaching for her pregnant sister's forearm. "Calm down. Everything will be fine," she says in an imploring tone. "I'll take care of it."
Again, the two exchange an intense look. Again, I don't know what it means.
It's Pietro who saves the situation by jumping up from his chair. "We have Schiacciata dolce," he announces on his way to the kitchen.
Until he returns to the table with the generously fig-topped yeast cake, I dare not ask any more questions. It seems as if there are no innocuous topics here. As if in the Olivetta family, hidden corners and sad spots are everywhere, making them nearly impossible to avoid.
"We still know nothing personal about you. Will you tell us something?" Camilla asks me as the deliciously scented dessert, filled with pine nuts, is placed in front of me.
Even though I'd rather not think about it, I share details about the inn and our guests.
Work. Garden. Sleep. Cleaning.
There's not much else in my life, as I'm responsible for everything except paperwork. The Olivettas smile kindly at me, asking numerous questions, while I secretly glance at the door, hoping Vico might still show up.
Finally, I talk about my future plans with Florian. "After the renovation, we want to host guests here in Tuscany."
No one says anything; only Pietro nods cautiously. "I hope everything works out as you wish."
Camilla and Alessia keep their eyes lowered, and I can't read anything from their gazes. But their slumping shoulders tell me enough.
My words make them sad, almost as if they don't want the property to be sold. They must desperately need the money.
Immediately, I empathize with them. This feeling accompanies me until Pietro serves grappa afterward. From then on, the mood becomes more jovial. When I say goodbye to the Olivettas well past midnight, I feel more lighthearted than I have in a long time.
Both sisters embrace me before parting. "Don't worry, we won't let you wander around Tuscany alone," Alessia whispers, hugging me so tightly, as if she has grown fond of me throughout the evening.
Her words feel so heartwarming, and as I walk back to the estate, I realize that the past hours were a delightful escape from my life. I wrap my arms around myself and catch myself smiling involuntarily.