Chapter 47 Michael
Michael
This manual labor thing is killing me: first the restoration of the Cinquecento, then the harvest, and now it’s cooking.
Tonight, Elisa and I will finally be alone, and we intend to enjoy every moment.
I plan to propose something to her, which I never expected from myself.
Of course, before coming here I’d never foaled a mare or bought pads, but I think I’ll have to call Saxton to thank him for the vacation he gave me.
I’m preparing pappardelle with a ragù of vegetables from the garden, following an old Tuscan cookbook to the letter.
I had to remake the ragù twice because on the first try I burned the onion and on the second I got carried away with the salt, but my third attempt is more convincing and is now resting in the pan.
I’m working on the pappardelle, but worst case I’ll fall back on the dry ones from the supermarket.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that here in Italy food is love and love is expressed through food; if you love someone, it’s worth spending the day cooking for them.
I want Elisa to know I love her. Just in case, however, I also bought some heartburn medication.
“You and I need to talk,” she surprises me from behind.
“I asked you not to come to the villa until this evening. You ruined the surprise!” I say, cleaning the flour from my hands with a cloth.
“And I asked you for a month, but instead you continued to negotiate the sale with the Russian,” she snaps, and my brain shuts down.
Transmission interrupted.
I would like to tell her that it’s not like that, that she’s wrong, but the truth is she’s not.
“The month is almost over,” I reply, clinging to the only extenuating circumstance I have.
“Was it finished three weeks ago when you went to the town hall to ask about zoning for a golf club?”
I gasp without knowing how to respond.
“Yeah, Michael, I found out about it from the surveyor, Gentile. As you know, everyone in Belvedere talks.”
“I was just getting ahead on work.”
But she jumps straight into a tangent. “I, on the other hand, believe you never seriously considered postponing the sale. You just said what I needed to hear so you could do your business in peace.”
“You’re wrong. I really did revalue the estate. If it were mine, I’d keep it, but it belongs to the Bingleys and they want to sell it. So if you want to blame someone, blame them.”
“Do you think I don’t know you’re the one behind every decision Charles ever makes? Like distancing himself from Giada?”
Fuck.
“Michael, answer me. Was it you who told him to leave her?”
“Yes,” I admit. “It was me.”
“I see you’re very proud of your puppeteering. Do you enjoy pulling the strings of people’s lives? Do you feel some sadistic pleasure in seeing her suffer?”
“I don’t enjoy seeing anyone suffer; that’s why I wanted to protect Charles.
It was clear your sister was only looking for an advantageous marriage so she could leave Belvedere.
Charles was naive enough to be the perfect target.
I’ve seen my best friend fooled by all kinds of social climbers over the years.
This time I decided to open his eyes before he got hurt, since his intuition when it comes to love is completely offline. ”
“A luminary of love has spoken! You, who, until the other day, were screwing two women at once! You know nothing about love.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, Elisa. Because I was right. As soon as Charles put the brakes on his calls and messages, your sister disappeared on him.”
“Giada was terrified of asphyxiating him! She was dying of anxiety when she didn’t hear from him, but she knew he was away on business and didn’t want to bother him!
When he disappeared, she thought she was just his summer fling,” she screams at me, possessed by anger.
“Of course, this played into your hands, so Charles didn’t hesitate for a second to sell and gave you carte blanche to close with your client.
Well done; your strategy worked perfectly. ”
“Do you think I’m that smart? Let’s pretend I didn’t come between him and your sister. I don’t understand what three weeks or a month matters to you if Charles wants to sell anyway.”
“It matters because I want to buy the estate.”
Her response leaves me stunned. “Buy it?”
“Yes. But I need time for the bank to approve the loan. Once I had the money, I was going to make an offer to Charles.”
“Excuse my frankness, Elisa, but the Bingleys aren’t exactly hurting for money. They won’t sell low just to get rid of the property.”
“Indeed, that’s why it takes so long to get the loan, because I want to make a reasonable offer. I certainly can’t get in a bidding war against a Russian billionaire.”
“But why do you want to buy Le Giuggiole?”
“If you have to ask, it means you don’t understand a damn thing about me,” she replies, shaking her head. “Mamma could live out her life in peace here, my sister would have a roof over her head, and my daughter would have a future. Is that enough for you?”
“No, you want to trap your mother, your sister, and your daughter because you feel stuck here yourself,” I reply with more malice than I thought I had.
“Your mother is close to retirement. If you want to give her peace of mind, you don’t force her to look after a twenty-thousand-square-foot property for life.
Your sister can’t wait to escape Belvedere, and your daughter wants to study in England. ”
“What are you saying?”
“Didn’t you know? No, you didn’t. Because your daughter doesn’t talk to you.
You’re so terrified of separating from her that you still treat her like she’s five, but she’s long past that age.
” Until now only Elisa had raised her voice, but now I’m joining in too.
“Did you know she liked Tommaso Ghirardi? Obviously not, but she told me. Did you know she’s applying to go to an English boarding school next year?
No, she told me. Did you know she got her period? No, she told me.”
Elisa looks at me in shock. “Linda got her period?”
“Maybe now you can see how much you’ve pushed her away. But she’s your daughter, dammit; she can’t feel rejected by you.”
“I just want to protect her! Nobody knows what it was like for me to become a mother at seventeen. You’re all full of lessons for me, but when it comes time to put them into practice, I’m always on my own.”
“You don’t have to be,” I take a step toward her, hoping she understands that I don’t want to argue anymore. “I’m here.”
“You? You’re taking away my house, you’re taking away my job, and you’re taking away my life.”
“Come to London with me,” I say suddenly, taking her by the shoulders. “With Linda, I mean.”
“London? And do what?”
“I don’t know; you’ll find something. You won’t have to worry about a thing.
I’ll take care of you,” I insist. I had imagined this evening would go a little more like this: During dinner I’d intended to explain to her, in a more relaxed way, that although I believed Le Giuggiole was a valid investment, Charles still intended to sell.
However, because she’s so important to me and I don’t want our relationship to end, I wanted to invite her to join me in London.
Proposing to a woman that we move in together after only a month would have been unthinkable for the old Michael, but the new one can’t wait.
“I have a huge apartment in the city center. I have connections in the most exclusive circles. You’ll never be bored.
You can reinvent yourself or do nothing all day, and I’ll send Linda to the best schools.
Why would you want to stay here in this godforsaken place, breaking your back all day, up to your neck in debt, when you can have all that in an instant? I love you, Elisa. Please say yes.”
We stare at each other in silence for a very long time, and I hold my breath, awaiting her response.