Chapter 57
“This is a good start, but we need something else.” I tap my pen on the notebook in front of me. “I don’t think hosting people in our two extra bedrooms and offering cooking classes is going to generate enough income. We need big money for things like roof repairs. This place needs a lot of work.”
“What about your cookbook?” Nonna asks. “Could that help us?”
I shake my head. “I already got the advance. I mean, if the cookbook sells really well, then yes, the royalties could help a little bit. But I don’t think we can depend on it for income.”
“Maybe not for money,” Nonna says thoughtfully, “but these are our family recipes; this is the place you learned to cook. Could you use the cookbook to let people know about the farm?”
“You mean use the cookbook to market what we offer at the farm?” I ask, thinking about the possibilities.
“We could do the same thing on social media,” Alex interrupts excitedly. “We could run a contest for a free farm stay. We could do more promotional videos.” She looks ready to take on the world. Her enthusiasm is infectious.
“We could build a brand around the farm,” I say, mind whirring with the germ of an idea. Now I’m getting excited too. It probably isn’t enough to dig us out of the hole financially, but there’s growth potential. How much potential I don’t know yet.
“I can handle the guest bookings and their stays with us.” I am warming to this idea. “Nonna, are you sure you can handle the cooking classes? It’s a lot of work.”
She waves away my concerns. “I’ll work until my last breath,” she tells me. “If it means we can keep this place and our legacy.”
“Zio Lorenzo, if we got you some help, could you continue to oversee the grounds and olive groves?” I ask. Lorenzo readily agrees.
“I’ll help him too,” Nicolo volunteers abruptly. “As much as I can.”
“Hey, what about me?” Alex interrupts. “Why am I not included in this?”
I stare at her in surprise. “Because in a few weeks school starts, and you have to be back in New York.”
Her jaw juts out stubbornly and she shakes her head. “I don’t want to go,” she says.
“Alex, you knew this was only for the summer,” I tell her, confused. “It was never supposed to be more than that.”
“Too late,” she says, her tone insistent. “I don’t want to go back to New York. I want to stay here. I can run all the social media for the farm. I can be useful. You need me to help you do this.”
I glance at Nonna for moral support but she only shrugs. “She has many useful skills,” she points out unhelpfully.
Nonna isn’t wrong. Alex would be an amazing asset, but she’s a high school student. She can’t just up and move to Italy with no parents. “What about Ted and Lisa?” I ask. “And school?”
“They have schools here, don’t they?” she points out mulishly. “I could finish school here.”
“You have to be fluent in Italian,” I protest.
“Try me,” she challenges. “I’ve been practicing a lot.” And then she rattles off a long string of pretty decent Italian. Lorenzo whistles. Nonna looks surprised and delighted. I don’t know what to say.
“Wow, that online language course has really been paying off,” Nicolo says admiringly.
Alex shrugs modestly. “I told you, I’m good with languages.”
“She really got you there,” Lorenzo tells me. I shoot him a dirty look, which he cheerfully ignores.
“At least ask Mom?” Alex asks, her tone pleading. I see the expression on her face, the defiance mixed with longing. It softens me. “Please?” she asks again.
“Are you sure you want to stay here and finish school?” I ask. “This will not be easy. You’ll have to adjust to the culture. And we’re going to get on each other’s nerves. There will be hard days working together as a family. Are you sure this is what you want?”
She lifts her chin, determined. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
I glance at Nonna, who shoots me a guileless smile. Still, I get the feeling that this may be an outcome she’s been angling for all along. “She’s your sister, Nipotina,” Nonna says. “How can we say no? She needs us and we need her.”
I sigh, sensing a losing battle. When I agreed to chaperone her for the summer, I had no idea how quickly things would change. How much I would come to care about Alex. “Okay, I’ll ask Lisa. But she and Ted get the final say.”
“They’ll say yes,” Alex predicts, looking a little smug.
I have a feeling she’s right. I can’t imagine Lisa not jumping at the chance to be unencumbered by her teenager.
Most likely I just have to say how well Alex is doing, how she’s making friends and seems so happy, and Lisa will readily agree to Alex staying with us in Italy.
Surprisingly, the thought of Alex staying makes me happy.
I don’t want her to leave. We started the summer as strangers and now we are ending as sisters.
As family. I look around the table, realizing with a sweet sense of relief that I won’t ever feel alone again.
My family is here to help me. We will stand together, shoulder to shoulder.
The thought is warming. It feels so right.
I pull out my phone and text Solomon and Sandra.
Change of plans. I’ll be staying in Italy after the summer. Do you want to take over my half of the lease or should I look for someone to sublet my room?
A few seconds later a text pops up on my screen. It’s from Sandra.
We will take over the whole lease. With Drew staying in LA permanently, Ophelia can have her own room.
Drew is staying in LA? That’s news to me, not that it really affects me now.
I heave a sigh of relief. At least the apartment situation is sorted.
I add “alert landlord re: Solomon and Sandra taking over lease” to my to-do list on my phone, right under “let Trader Joe’s know I’m not coming back.
” I’ll have to fly back to Seattle and clean my stuff out of the apartment.
I could ship my belongings to Italy, but I’m thinking I might just fill a few suitcases and donate the rest of it to Goodwill.
I don’t have that much I’m attached to, and I like the idea of a fresh start in the place that feels most like home.
“Hey Jules, people really like that video you posted on your profile.” Alex interrupts my thoughts.
She holds out her phone to show me. It’s the pizza-making segment I posted on The Bygone Kitchen .
She’s right. People are liking and sharing and commenting on it.
While I’m sitting there, a few new comments pop up.
More pasta please!
Ur grandma is a hottie!
EEEK! I LOVE ITALY!!!
I look at the number of comments and shares.
Wow, this is unexpected. This video is more popular than any I’ve shared in…
well…maybe ever. I narrow my eyes, a notion niggling at the corner of my brain.
What if I take The Bygone Kitchen and rebrand it as @OlivesandAmore?
Alex only uses that name on TikTok. We could expand to all the other social media channels and build one integrated brand.
It would be based here in Italy and focus on introducing readers to Italian recipes from our region.
There are so many amazing recipes that go far beyond pizza and spaghetti Bolognese.
Could I still give something good to my followers, something they’d enjoy, but connect it to Italy, the farm, Nonna, and my heritage?
Maybe I could tie in the cooking classes and farm stays we’re talking about too.
I don’t have to lose the show, I realize with a little fizz of excitement. I can simply transform it into something that still gives me and my followers joy, but fits my life now. A fledgling idea starts to take form.