wakes up, then I get ready for the day. The day of sitting around on my arse in my church-slash-office.
But by the time it’s mid-afternoon and all my espresso shots have worn off, and my brain turns to mush, I decide I need a break. I head back into the house, get changed into my bathing suit, then grab my Kindle, needing a new book to cleanse the palette, and possibly inspire me. Sometimes reading something while writing can push you to do better, try harder. So long as the book is good.
I take my spot by the pool, a tall glass of mineral water beside me (I want wine or an Aperol Spritz, but I can wait until lunch). It’s another lovely perfect day and I’m getting used to the heat now as the summer goes on.
I’ve gotten through a chapter in this new book, when Claudio emerges from the house, wiping his hands on an apron coated in fine white dust.
“Just started with the marble?” I ask him, shielding my eyes from the sun.
He nods. “First cuts. This is the beginning of a very, very long process.”
From what he’s told me, it takes from two-to-four months to complete the sculpture. It’s weird to think that there might be a statue of me here after I’m gone.
The thought twists my stomach and I have to remind myself that everything will work out.
“Allora,” he goes on. “I just talked to Maria on the phone. She and Sofia are coming here for dinner. Emilio will be here, too.”
“Oh, great!” I liked Maria. And the more people over for dinner, the more Claudio tries to show off in his cooking.
“She’s going to take you out for a coffee first,” he hastily adds.
I jerk my chin in. “What?”
“Maria. She’s going to take you for a coffee, probably after lunch. Or a drink, whatever. But just so you know so you can, uh, plan your schedule.” He waves his fingers at me in a roundabout motion, as if the pool is part of my schedule.
“That’s fine, but why does she want to take me out for coffee?”
“Maybe she wants to get to know you.”
Hmmm. I have a strange lump in the pit of my stomach. Something about Claudio’s expression is throwing me off. That man can’t hide anything from me.
“Claudio…” I begin. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Why does she want to get to know me?”
“No reason.”
“Claudio!”
He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose, leaving dusty white thumbprints on the bridge. “She knows about us.”
“She knows!” I exclaim, throwing my Kindle down on the grass. “How does she know?”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t have any stake in this. “My parents told her.”
“They what?”
“They are very happy for me, happy for us. They like you a lot, Grace, even if you were a bit anti-social that last night.”
I stare at nothing, shaking my head. I don’t really care that Maria knows we’re together, but I care even more now that she wants to talk to me.
Alone.
In private.
Just the two of us.
“She’s not planning to murder me, is she?” I say, half-joking.
He laughs. “No. Honest. She wants to get to know you. If you are a part of my life, then she wants to know that part of my life.”
I don’t like this. I’m nervous now. Of his own sister. She just seems so wise, and headstrong, and … damn intimidating. The way she roasted Jana? My god.
“It will be fine,” he assures me.
But of course, I can’t help but dwell on it for the rest of the morning, all the way through lunch.
I’m sitting outside on the patio, nursing a glass of wine, trying to calm my nerves when I hear the car doors slam, and then the raucous Italian to follow, getting louder and louder as Claudio and Maria step outside. In the background, Vanni and Sofia dart out from around the corner, and are running around the yard like they’ve just injected themselves with sugar.
“Grace,” Maria says to me, throwing her arms out. Her voice is warm, even though her eyes are trickier to figure out. I get up and she embraces me, kissing me on both cheeks, as I do the same to her. “Are you ready?” she asks, and then nods at my drink. “I will take you to a bar that has the best wine in Lucca.”
Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad.
I get up and go upstairs to grab my purse, and then I’m out front and climbing in the passenger side