Chapter 8 #2
“Yes. But I was thinking it should be your home.”
Just then, Maria came into the kitchen carrying a box of dishes.
She set them on the table and explained that they’d never been opened, and she was going to sell them, but she felt badly that she couldn’t find any place that suited “Loretta” and therefore wanted her to have them.
When this was explained to Lora, her face crumpled.
“Are you serious?” she asked, her forehead creased with concern.
“About which part?” he asked.
“Everything. You’re telling me that you’re finishing the renovation. Now. For me. And that all of these people are bringing stuff here and doing all of this work. And it’s also for me.”
“Well, only part of that is true.” He smiled.
“There’s no way this renovation will be finished anytime soon.
You’re going to have to deal with us in and out of here for a while.
I’m sorry that Vilmari is not here, because I am sure it would be better to have a friend help you.
But I can promise that you’ll have something of a kitchen, and at least one bathroom should be ready in a couple of days.
Electricity is happening as we speak.” He pointed to Lorenzo, who was heading out through the back doors, a pair of pliers in his hands.
“And I asked some people to bring you a few more things to get started, as you can see,” he said, placing his hand on top of the box of dishes.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“First you have to say that it’s OK with you.
You’re not under any obligation to use this house, at all.
If you still want to go to Riva Trigoso, you can definitely—” And then she was in his arms, all at once.
She squeezed him so hard, he half coughed, and her frangipane scent was everywhere around him.
He hadn’t decided to rent her the house to get her to tackle him in a hug, though it was an absolutely fantastic side effect.
It was obvious that she was frustrated, and he’d only wanted to help.
He would have done it for anyone. But he wouldn’t have wanted this reaction from just anyone—that was for sure.
Andrea could feel her body release as she breathed out, still holding him tight. “Lora?”
“This is the most—I don’t know.” She finally let go and stepped back. He already missed her. “This is incredibly generous,” she said, composing herself. “I am truly, truly grateful. You didn’t have any reason to do this for me—any of you. Especially since I was an utter ass the other day.”
“Some of our favorite people are utter asses,” he said, laughing. “And yet we still help each other. People are generous here—mostly.”
“It’s overwhelming,” she said, looking around the room and taking it all in. “Can we see upstairs?” She smiled.
“Of course we can,” he said, trying to snuff out the burn in his chest and follow her back to the matter at hand. “It’s your place.”
“Don’t say that,” she said, turning to him as they headed toward the stairway.
“This is always going to be your house even if you draw up some kind of lease for me. Actually, about that.” She ducked under a curtain of plastic sheeting at the top of the stairs.
“You likely know that I can’t afford this. ”
“We will find a way to work it out,” he said.
“This would be my choice for the primary bedroom, but there are three, so you can decide. Wait—” He paused before going into the room.
“Let me clarify that saying ‘we will find a way to work it out’ before leading you into a bedroom was not my intention.”
“I get it,” she said. “I also want to say that I am not expecting to live here for free. I do have some money saved.”
“I am sure that you do. The thing is that we will have to get the bank to approve the lease because you and your money are foreign. It will be tough, but like I said, we will do our best.” They walked into the bedroom, the biggest room at the back of the house.
There was not one thing of note in the square box aside from a stunning view from the two large, south-facing windows.
“Holy moly,” she said, leaning a bit out of the open windows.
“It’s a great house,” he said, reminding himself. He stood next to her, looking out at the sea. It had been a long time since he’d stood here and taken it all in.
“And you’re sure you don’t mind me living in it?”
“Absolutely not. I consider it a value-add to the property.”
“OK. One more question.” She turned to him, sunlight playing with the honey tones in her hair. “How do I thank everyone else? They don’t even know me, yet they’re bringing me dishes.”
“Just be yourself. You’ll get it. Fifty percent of you is Italian, Loretta.”
“Maybe, but I only have a vague idea of what that means from movies. You know why my mom named me that?”
“I assumed because it’s a beautiful Italian name and maybe she had discussed it with Ivo?”
“Nope. She named me for Cher’s character in the movie Moonstruck. Her name was Loretta Castorini in the film. It was my mom’s favorite movie. She knew every line and could act out all the parts. Have you seen it?”
“I have. I always liked movies about American Italians. They are two completely different cultures, but the places they overlap are pretty fascinating.”
“Thanks to that movie, I thought that Italians put sugar cubes in their champagne and cried when they heard Puccini. So, I don’t know much.
” She laughed. “My mom’s favorite scene was when Cher steps out of the cab at Lincoln Center and Nic Cage turns around to see her—like she’s the most incredible thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
You know the one I am talking about? He begs her to go to the opera! It’s so wild to me.”
“Yes, I do. I remember him turning to her as she’s walking out the door of his apartment and saying—”
“‘Meet me at the Met,’” they said simultaneously.
“Yes!” Lora said. “I love how she shows up thinking it’s going to be a kind of throwaway evening.
She thinks she’s only doing it to shut him up, but in the meantime, she goes through this beautiful transformation to get there.
You know that part where she looks in the mirror to put on some lipstick, and it’s like her true self is looking back.
It’s so empowering. I love it. Anyway, that’s the Loretta I am named for.
So, the rest of this stuff is new to me. ”
“First, no one here does anything with the intention of being thanked. That means you don’t have to do anything.
Second, I hate opera and would only cry if you put on Puccini because it makes my head hurt.
And third, you’re not a stranger, Lora. People may not know you, but they did know Ivo, and that counts for something to them. ”
“I guess they all know I’m Ivo’s daughter now.”
“Yes. It’s a small town, remember? Look, all you have to do is look around you and see friends. They’re good people, and it doesn’t take much to make them happy. I know you don’t know how long you’re here, but for now, you will be one of us.”