His father rubbed his eyes before digging into his breakfast. “Your uncles and I can’t complain. The good news is, we have a much larger market than we used to and need more help, but I know the family business has never been your interest.”
“I’m glad it’s growing, Papa.”
His father chuckled. “You sounded like my little boy just then. I am, too. So…you’re really decided on this farming business.”
“Yes. That’s why I want those two properties. Along with this one I plan to make a good profit. I intend for Cavezzali to sell the premier frutta deliziosa in all Ravello.”
“This is your grandfather’s doing.”
“Only indirectly. I was born with some of Mama’s genes. She helped with the farming as a girl. I took to it pure and simply. But I also inherited some of your genes. You loved car design. I loved jet planes. It’s all mixed around inside me.”
His father eyed him for a long time, but for once Lucca couldn’t discern what was on his mind. “You hated me for marrying Maria so soon after your mother died,” he began without preamble. “I don’t blame you. If I’d been in your shoes, I would have felt the same way.”
Lucca was stunned by his father’s unexpected remarks. “We went over all this years ago. There’s no need to talk about it ever again.”
“Perhaps not for you as much as for me. As you know, Donata and I were childhood sweethearts. I loved your mother so much that when she passed away, I couldn’t bear it for myself or you. Not many people loved the way we did. We had an idyllic marriage. When you came along after many tries, your mother looked at me and said, ‘Our cup has run over, Guilio’.”
“I didn’t know she suffered a miscarriage.”
“Four of them.”
Four?
“We wanted a big family. I have to tell you she was the sweetest mother.” She was. “You were our one and only. She doted on you. I think I was a little jealous.” He wiped his eyes.
The revelations coming out of his father knocked Lucca back on his heels.
“I’d grown up knowing Maria at school and liked her. Her husband’s sudden death from a heart attack was a shock to her, too. We saw each other at church. In our grief, we gravitated to each other for comfort to stave off the pain. We were two brokenhearted people with three brokenhearted sons and realized that if we got married, we could provide something solid for our children.”
Lucca’s eyes closed tightly.
“In the beginning our union truly was for the children.” Lucca believed him. “We had friendship and respect going for us. Over time I grew to love her in a different way that I loved your mother. She’s a good woman who has supported me in the business and has been a fine companion.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I care for her very much.”
“But not at first. When you left for Bari, I got so angry because I didn’t want to lose you, too. Your mother’s death almost killed me. I wanted to keep you close to me, but the harder I tried, the more you pulled away.” He got up from the table and walked over to him. “Can you forgive me, Lucca?”
Too choked up from emotion to talk, Lucca hugged his father. “If anything, I’m the one begging for it.”
Guilio hugged him harder. “Maria and I have been planning a get-together on Saturday. Besides family, there’ll be some friends and business people. Now that you’re back, we’d like to turn it into a real ‘welcome home party’ for you. How does that sound?”
“I’m already looking forward to it, Papa.”
His father wept. Lucca hadn’t seen that happen since the doctor had summoned them into the hospital room where his mother was taking her last breath. But this time they were happy tears.
“Come on,” his father finally said, wiping his eyes again. “Let’s go take a drive and look at those properties. I’m glad you’re going to do something about them and want to hear all your ideas. They’re already an eyesore. That’s why I wanted to sell them. Thank goodness you stopped me in time.”
Thank goodness.
“The light is perfect. Annabelle? You will sit in the passenger seat with one foot on the ground as if you’ve fallen in love with this field of sunflowers and are ready to get out and run through it. Can you give me the look I’m after this early in the morning?”
That part was easy. The memory of Saturday on the water with Lucca was a day out of time with a real man who was starting to share his feelings. While they’d boated in and out of sandy coves and enjoyed their picnic, he’d given her a history of the area.
Against a backdrop of medieval towers and terraced orchards, he’d talked about his plans to become a farmer. With his love of the land, it really didn’t surprise her. Slowly the conversation drifted to her. He got her talking about her own future. She knew that one day she’d go back to nursing. His words touched her deeply when he told her she ought to specialize in helping veterans because she had the two necessary gifts of empathy and compassion.
After he took his medicine, he eventually grew sleepy. She suggested they go back to the farmhouse so he could get to bed. After a day like they’d enjoyed, he’d seemed so peaceful, she had a feeling he wouldn’t be tortured by nightmares.
Sunday had been a repeat of Saturday. Lucca was unwinding even more now. They ate a leisurely breakfast, then took another boat out in a different direction so she could see more sights and islands. Lucca lay on the padded seats, comfortable enough to enjoy being gone all day. They snoozed, ate, read and took in the scenery. She thought of them as healing days. For a little while they had no cares.