Page 57 of I Think Olive You

“For Abundantia,” I clarify, emphasizing it isn’t personal. It’s not intimate like the last time I caught her off guard and ended up coercing her into a fake engagement.

It’s all I have to say because she rises. Pushing her chair into the hollow of the desk, she dusts her hands down the wrinkles that have gathered on her outfit from hours of working at the desk.

We make it most of the way down the path, toward the brambles that are no longer there. And then she hangs back, her eyes large in question. I don’t know if she knows the history of this place, the lives that blazed and faded here. My father and hers, and the stain of broken hearts and severed ties.

Turning, I reach out my hand for her to take and she stares at it with hesitation—as if this choice takes a toll I can’t understand. But I do. I know. Slipping her hand into my palm, I thread my work-roughened fingers between hers. Calluses to match. Her eyes are large as she takes in the neatly cleared path—the gravel that’s been tamed into an actual strip leading to the house.

And up ahead… light invites us in.

Gold from the lanterns beside the front door pools on the ground, refracting against the cut glass covers and overflowing. The warm glow illuminates creeping vines on the facade of the house, lending to that rustic feel. The sanded and newly-painted front door beckons and I urge her forward to do the honors, dropping the bliss of her hand in favor of watching her soak it all in. Sheer curtains impede the view but give enough of a tease that we can tell the interior is not the way it was left.

Her hand rests on the knob, her breath shuddering out as she looks back at me with fear in her eyes.

“I wanted to thank you. Being here with you… working alongside you this summer, I finally understood what’s been holding me back. You gave me the opportunity to delve into my roots and experience a joy I can’t begin to put words to. The least I could do was give you a tiny leg up for you to chase your dreams.” I try to keep my voice steady. I keep my heart shoved down and away from my throat lest the words shake and the emotion churning in me leak out.

“Teo…” Her eyes shine, tears and disbelief.

“I didn’t have time to do it up the way I wanted but I did the best that I could. I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you mentioned it and after our trip… I needed to show you it’s possible. I believe in this, and you.” This time I do get a little choked up and she gives me a watery smile before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Gone is the debris, the bird’s nest by the window, and the dust that cloyed the air so badly I wanted to choke. Grime and years have been erased and in their place is why I’ve scoured Pinterest for hours.

Italian Farmhouse Aesthetic. It’d taken too long for me to realize I had to add the fucking word “aesthetic” to the search or I’d just keep getting products to buy. But it worked. New and old merge into a warm, welcoming space. A large rug covers the worst of the scuffs on the floor.

The plush couch I’d snuck in under her nose is the perfect place to curl up with a drink in hand. There’s no television, but you don’t need one when the windows open to glimpses of the grove.

Her hand at her throat, breath coming in little gasps, Giuliana walks the space. Fingertips brushing against the smooth new paint, her other hand roams free. Ending on the edge of the dining table that’s been given some extra love to make it shine.

She doesn’t say a word as she absorbs it all, wandering into the bathroom to admire the new shower curtain and sparkling surfaces. Giuliana touches and takes in the hallway walls and inhales as if new paint is her favorite smell in the world. When she looks back at where I wait in the threshold her eyes rise above the lintel and the emotion shimmering there tips over, overwhelmed.

Above the doorway hangs her past and mine. That old and weathered sign is the focal point, letting you know exactly where you are and where you’re headed when you step foot outside of this house.

Abundantia. Abundance.

She’s shown me a life of abundance where before there was only emptiness and dissatisfaction.

“It was a bitch to try and sneak it out of your office. I had to do it under cover of darkness and try not to wake the whole house.”

A sob catches in her throat and she clutches at the banister behind her, easing herself down to sit on one of the stairs.

“Hey now, you haven’t even seen the bedrooms yet. I had to ask Nonna how to make a bed properly with hotel corners. I’ve never seen anyone so precise over a rectangle of fabric.” The joke fizzles, the edge of her mouth barely lifting as she’s swept away in something I can’t begin to guess at.

Crossing the invisible line between us, I walk toward her with sure steps and cup her cheek, wiping away a trail that’s burned down her skin.

“Lia?”

I have so many questions in that one syllable. Are you angry with me? Did I ruin this, too? Will you look at this place and see what I intended: gratitude and heart-rending love? Or will your tears turn to stones of hatred when you find out all I’ve done?

“It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough.” Whispering into the crown of her head, I plant a forbidden kiss there, lingering only a moment before I wrench myself away and give her the space she deserves.

“Now come, there’s more to see.”

More I want to give you; more I want to say. Every brush stroke is a love letter. These rooms are my apology. They’re the only thing I have when my words fail me and the truth has turned to ash on my tongue too many times.

This time she slips her hand into mine without me needing to ask or even blinking, and I lead her up the staircase to where her guests will be staying. Will be, not might be, because there’s no doubt in my mind she’s going to make it a success.

Her hand strokes over the cool brass of the bed frame and the texture of the quilt folded at the end of the bed. Giuliana drinks it in like she’s been denied a taste for far too long and I realize what I’m seeing. Ambition met, desires within reach. This is a small mark she can leave that’s hers. This will help her take that coveted step closer to making this grove all her own.

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