Chapter 46
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank you?” echoes Auntie Julie. “For what, chuck?”
“For everything you’ve done for me. For letting me come and live with you. For looking after me for so long.”
I’m in the olive grove, but not sitting down: I’m feeling too driven to keep still.
The phone’s on speaker and I’m pacing between the trees, or as much as I’m able to pace without tripping over the uneven ground and knobbly roots.
Now that I’ve told Julie about my conversation with Dad, I’ve switched the focus onto her.
“It’s only recently I’ve started to understand the sacrifice you made,” I elaborate. “And I don’t know what I would have done without you. So thank you. A big, big thank you.”
I can hear Julie sitting up and rearranging her cushions. “That’s lovely, chuck, but honestly, there’s no need. When you came to live with me, I was lonely. I was desperate to meet someone and have a family but for whatever reason, it just wasn’t happening. You rescued me from that.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, we formed a little family of our own, didn’t we? So I stopped aching for the thing I was missing. And then Jason came along. And he’s my soulmate: he was always going to be the one for me. But if it weren’t for you, I’m not sure I’d have seen that.”
I lift up my sunglasses and press my eyes with my thumbs. “Why not?”
“Well, he didn’t want to get married and he didn’t want to have kids so I would probably have knocked him back; time was running out. But you helped me realize that idea in my head wouldn’t have been right for me at all.”
I drop my sunglasses back down over my eyes. “Do you not think so?”
She sighs. “No, chuck. I definitely had the urge to look after someone, maternal feelings or whatever you want to call them. But I probably would have got ground down by little kids—all those early mornings, sleepless nights, nagging them to eat their veg, all that baby talk and singing nursery rhymes over and over again and letting your brain go to mush. But when you came to live with me, I learned there were other ways to express my maternal feelings. And I loved being an auntie, an involved, hands-on auntie. So if we’re saying thanks, thanks to you, too. ”
I insist there’s no need, but feel my contentment growing.
Once we’ve said our goodbyes, I pull down a branch and examine a few olives. We’re still a couple of months off the harvest but they’ve grown much bigger, although I’ve no way of telling which have been attacked by the flesh-eating flies, and which will be good enough to make into oil.
I try to sit down but am still feeling driven, like I’m on a mission. And I know there’s another communication I need to deliver. I write an email to my dad.
Since visiting him in Umbria, I’ve accepted it may take a while for me to truly relax in Dad’s company, but the only way to combat my regrets about our relationship is by getting it on track for the future.
And all Dad wants is to be let into my life.
What better way than inviting him and Debbie to this celebration of what I’ve been doing over the summer—with the people I’ve been doing it with?
Hi Dad, I’m sorry I ran off the other day.
It was rude and there’s no excuse but it was all just a lot for me to get my head around.
Having said that, I’m really glad we had the conversation and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.
I was wondering if you and Debbie would like to come to Montemagno for a party we’re having on Saturday.
Theo’s kids will be here and I’d really like you to meet them.
And you can see what we’ve done with the house. Please say yes—I’d love you to come.
Adam x
I reread the email to check it captures what I want to say. And, just as I’m hitting Send, Giuseppe calls my name.