Page 43 of I Think Olive You

Giuliana makes me drink water and I hate to admit it’s definitely helping with the swooshy feeling. The meal is quiet except for the clank of cutlery against plates, and when we’re done eating, she carries the trays down without a word. When she gets back, Giuliana gives me some Tylenol she obtained downstairs. I throw it back and chase it with a heavy swig of water.

Tucking myself into bed, I stifle a groan. Pain sinks into my muscles and the buzz of alcohol fades. All I want is to escape into sleep. What a fucking mess of a day.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Giuliana asks from the doorway, her hand poised over the light switch.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not my first drunken tumble and it probably won’t be the last.”

Her lips thin into an unhappy line and she gives a terse nod before turning off the lights. Sheets and blankets swish on her side of the room as she slips into her own bed. The darkness is too intimate and although we’re not sharing a bed I hear her breathing—every shuffle against the covers. It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable, if her tossing and turning is any indication.

“Giuliana…”

“You can’t say stuff like that and then fall down a flight of stairs.” Her voice is tight. The words are sharp as if she’s throwing them in my direction like daggers.

“It was only half a flight of stairs.”

She huffs.

“But, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you into this and forced a lie between us. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d come up with a better excuse—one where I wouldn’t get to enjoy the little bit of time I got with you. Even if it was only pretending.”

Silence stretches for too long and I wonder if she’s gone to sleep.

“It’s not… I—” She struggles before sighing. “I’m not keeping my distance for nothing or because I’m being difficult. My livelihood depends on this. As much as I want this to be real… as much as I want you, I can’t afford it right now.”

It shoots through me like electricity and she’s the live wire. Although I understand she’s letting me down easy and reiterating again why this can’t work, all my stupid brain focuses on is she wants this.

She wants me.

“All I was trying to do was help, as misguided as it was. Abundantia is lucky to have you and I’m not going to stand in the way of that.” In more ways than one. “How can I help? What do you need?”

Fabric rustles against fabric again and she turns to face me.

“I have all these ideas and I’m terrified to implement them. Convincing my Nonna of the volunteer program was difficult and that’s the tamest idea of all of them. Part of me thinks she’d rather I just let the grove go. She doesn’t even know why we’re here. When I called her earlier, I told her you wanted to go sightseeing and I felt it was my duty as your host.”

I chuckle at knowing no matter how old we are we still lie to our parents like we’re teenagers. Although Giuliana still has to live with her elder, so I can’t complain.

“I know about the B&B idea since that’s why we’re here but what else? What is your big dream for the farm?”

“Obviously I want the farm to succeed but more than that…” She takes a deep, steadying breath. “I want to succeed. The grove was never supposed to be mine. It was meant for the son my father never had and although he tried to pretend otherwise, we both knew it. I mentioned a few of the workers quit after he died and I took over. They left me. It wasn’t just Umberto’s influence.” My stomach sinks as I mull it over. I wish I could take away the hurt in her voice.

The covers are cool against my skin and the mattress dips around my body, cradling my sore muscles. I open my mouth to speak, to apologize but she barrels on before I can.

“I tended to him for years—running the grove and trying to care for Chiara. That’s why Nonna moved back in with us. She has a house in Gravina that she lived in before—the one where we—anyway, she ran a shop where she sold the olive oil we made, among other things. When my father got too sick to work, she gave it all up.”

I never considered what that might have looked like, what sacrifices the family had to make to keep their world spinning right side up. Just what did Giuliana have to sacrifice?

“And you? What did you have to give up?”

The air buzzes around us. It’s as if I can feel her considering whether or not she should say. She keeps quiet and I probe her again, a soft plea wrapped around her name. One breath passes. Two. Until she finally speaks.

“Time. Relationships. University. I was supposed to go to study agriculture. I love the land. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and I thought if I could prove myself… If I could show I’m as worthy as any of the men in that course I could earn their respect. But then Papa got sick, and I inherited it by default. When I stepped up and started running the farm myself, Umberto resented me for it. Our relationship shriveled and now only those who stayed respect me. I live with knowing I was a disappointment to my father until the end.”

Her words clang around my mind, echoes of those I’ve had in the past when it came to myself and my father.

“I understand.” Now it’s my turn to sigh and gather my courage.

“My father died last year and he was this bigshot businessman. The expectation is that I’m supposed to take over the company. He pushed me toward a business degree, I got a writing degree instead. He ignored me to focus on work and everything I’ve done my whole adult life has been to spite him. My existence was nothing but a source of shame to my father when he was alive and I have little to show for myself now.”

My heart constricts. My ribcage is too large for the tiny stone of pain I’ve repressed and compacted all year.

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