Page 102 of When Love Gives You Lemons
of the ocean
where horizon meets sky
wrap ourselves in stars
float forever in
infinite space
drift on waves and nebula
find a black hole
suspend time,
would forever be enough?
Tonight, meet me where the horizon meets the sky tonight in Positano.
We used to stargaze together, getting lost in constellations. I was always in outer space, while he was firmly planted on the ground.
Everything the Coven and Matty said earlier clicks. It’s taken thirteen months, but I’m finally ready to finish this, on my terms, not Ricky’s. I’m choosing to be present with my family tonight rather than focus on Ricky. Yes, he’s choosing the place—I’m guessing “where the horizon meets the sky tonight in Positano” is his poetic way of saying the place we’re doing the surprise for Sienna because it’s convenient. That’s been the biggest lesson I’ve learned this week. I’ve lived my entire life for other people, but here in Italy, I’m finally focusing on discovering what I love.
And tonight, I want to have a good time with my family, so I roll it up and pop it into my pocket for safekeeping.
Then Cam pulls up a chair next to me. “I know what it’s like,” he says, and when I don’t respond right away, he doesn’t get the hint and continues, “To lose.”
So much for peace.
“Lose? Dude, I’m done.” I move to stand. “I tried. I thought you were cool, misunderstood, whatever. But, man, you’re all over the place and messier than I am. I’m done playing thesegames. My life is not a game. Ricky’s life isn’t a game. Look around, Cam, this is my family. The Coven, the DeLucas. I haven’t lost. I’ve won.”
I can tell by the way the corners of his mouth twitch that he’s trying to hold himself together—that I hit him where it hurts, family. But I don’t care. His cheeks get red, his eyes glassy, and in one last-ditch effort to clearly best me, he blurts out, “What, amIthe drama?”
Thatstops me dead in my tracks.
Am I the drama?“It’s you. You’re the one who’s been commenting on all my Clock videos. For months. You tagged @Food-ForChange, you’ve been commenting about me and Ricky, trolling me. Us. Why?”
“You had your chance. Ricky deserves better.” He stands up and faces me, smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt. “I like you, Fielder. I think you’re a great guy. But I love Ricky, and he deserves a chance at real happiness. If you’re not willing to fight for him like I am, step aside.”
He leaves me to sit in silence.
Winding down the narrow, treacherous streets of Positano, the car service Topher hired nearly clips three elderly women, a group of tourists in tacky Italian flag tees, and a man on a Vespa. I shouldn’t have had so much champagne before this drive, but I needed something to take the edge off.
Ensconced high in the enclave of Positano, La Sponda is an elegant, chic fairy-tale dream inside Le Sirenuse, the most prestigious hotel on the Amalfi Coast. Pearl-white walls are decoratedwith arms of ivy growing upward toward the ceiling like fingers that stretch from arched picture windows and across walls, framing the white, beige, and pastel stacked houses and buildings of Positano. Emerald-green and gold tile floors, seafoam-green tablecloths, and grand chandeliers made to look like lemon trees with rounded glass globes lit with real candles make it feel like a high-fantasy film set come to life. It’s old Hollywood glamour by way of the Italian renaissance.
My fingers fiddle with my phone, desperate to film this for @LemonAtFirstSight, but it’s a Michelin-star restaurant, so I need to havesomedecorum.
Everyone is dressed in suits and designer dresses. Thankfully Topher had clothes for me and Matty because we would have been laughed out of a place like this in our Target polos. Still, I feel so grossly out of place, like I don’t belong.
Matty’s posture is stiff, and I’m sucking in my belly.
As we’re led to a private room, I pray the Coven doesn’t do or say something embarrassing, which of course is a fool’s errand because Nonna immediately shouts, “I’ve never seen anything like this before, holy hell! Where the hell are we, the Taj Mahal?”
Facepalm. Topher should have known better than to try and tame the Lemons. We’re loud enough that all of Amalfi could be in this restaurant and we’d still be the loudest in the room. We’re very much a “two-for-one appetizers at Applebee’s” kind of family.
Ricky and I are deliberately seated on opposite ends of the table. Benny seems to be enjoying connecting with Cam, as if they’re old friends laughing and giggling.
I seethe with rage thinking of how Cam trolled me for months without Ricky knowing.
