“Your family is famous?” His eyes widened in surprise.
“Not especially,” she said quickly, trying to downplay her comment.
“I don't think I have heard the name before. If you are famous--”
“We're not. It was just a figure of speech.”
He frowned. “Why did you ask such a question?”
Genie shrugged. “I have no idea. Silly question really. Forget I asked.”
“I will try to forget,” he said, nodding slowly. “Sometimes, you confuse me, Genie.”
“That's because I'm confused most of the time. Now,” she said, in an effort to change the subject, “what delights are you preparing for me next?”
“Of course. Next.” He held up the bucket. “We must not drink the milk like this. I must take it to the machine to be pasteurised.” He hung his head. “I regret to say that I am ignorant of the fame you 'Amiltons' have.”
“You deliberately mispronounced my name, Lorenzo Calderon',” Genie scolded, deliberately dropping the final 'e' in his name as punishment. “It's Hhhamilton.” She stuck out her chin to simulate an imperious air. “If you're going to take my family name in vain, I shall forbid you ever to say it again.”
“Even if I let you milk Gertrude again?”
Genie nodded once briskly and kept her smile in place. “Even then.”
While Genie enjoyed the banter, she still wondered how truthful Lorenzo had been. Others had lied to her in the past and, before she knew better, she had trusted them. Such liaisons always ended in anger and recriminations. Betrayal is a shattering experience and Genie had enough to last a lifetime.
No more.
“I shall practice your name until I am perfect,” Lorenzo offered.
“Perfect.”
You're perfect now, Lorenzo Calderone. At least as close as anyone can be.
And that kind of thinking, Genie Hamilton, makes this situation a perfect mess.
Chapter Nine
Over the following days, Genie settled into helping Lorenzo on a regular basis. Her previous plan hadn't worked out. Lorenzo was an accomplished cook and insisted on practicing his kitchen skills every day. Therefore, Genie realized that the only way she could compensate for her keep was to help out on the farm.
While she'd never been afraid to get her hands dirty, farm-style dirty hands were of a variety she would have preferred to avoid.
Nevertheless, this particular dirty-hands medicine definitely went down easier with a spoonful of Lorenzo. He was still curious about her, however, and dropped the occasional direct, or indirect, question into the conversation. Sometimes, caught off guard, Genie responded. At other times, she managed to field those with a joke, or an abrupt change of subject. Each time, Lorenzo had gone along with her.
Nevertheless, it was a little unsettling at times. While she understood his curiosity, and even berated herself for her paranoia and her churlishness for not being more open, past, bitter experiences created a strong wall that was difficult to breach from either side.
Conversely, despite the forbidding-looking fence; despite the towering mountains; despite the blocked pass, she felt she could breathe. She felt a sense of freedom and safety, stronger than she had experienced in a long time.
The brilliant sunshine of the previous few days helped. It was notching up the temperature a degree or two. The air was still crisp but the snow on the ground began to show signs so losing its fight to stick around until spring proper.
“I'll bet the skiers are worried,” she told Lorenzo, with a short laugh that was meant to disguise the sense of disappointment rising in direct proportion to the melting snow. If the snow was thawing in Lorenzo's yard, then it would also be thawing at the pass. She may have to leave earlier than expected.
These mixed feelings about leaving served to cause her some disquiet. “I'll be all right when the time comes,” she told herself without conviction.
In the meantime, life on the farm was made all the more palatable by Lorenzo.
From the start, he had welcomed her involvement and delighted in showing her how to do many of the daily tasks necessary to keep a small farm going. Whatever the activity, Genie got a big charge out Lorenzo's encouraging statements. He commended her for every success. She loved it and basked in the open pleasure on his face. She found that wanting to please him drove her to immerse herself in making a success of each new task.
The sense of achievement was okay but Lorenzo's praise was icing on the cake.
Just being with Lorenzo was icing on the cake.
“I could get used to this,” she kept telling herself.
Although most of the time, they went about their daily tasks separately, given the size of Lorenzo's estate, they were never very far from each other and Genie sought every opportunity to keep Lorenzo in sight. She soon worked out his routine and re-ordered her's so she could be relatively close to him and keep up an ongoing banter.
Besides that, if she got into trouble, he was close at hand to rescue her. She tried her little-girl-lost routine once or twice just to have him near her. After a while, however, she could see by his smile that he knew exactly what she was up to, so she had to change her tactics. After all, if she cried wolf too often, when she really needed help, he may be slow to respond - if at all.
No.
He'd respond.
Right away.
He always did.
“I am getting used to this.”
Lorenzo aside, Genie's natural curiosity motivated her to get a kick out of this new lifestyle. There were so many things to explore that were totally outside her experience. “Try anything once,” had long been her watchword. The thought that her 'mantra' might include working on a farm would have taken a million light years, in her former life, to present the merest glimmer seen through the most powerful telescope on earth, to come within sight of her mind.
“Can't think what I'll do with farming skills back home,” she told Lorenzo during an egg hunt in the barn. Genie had turned egg collecting into a contest to see who could collect the most. Even with Domino's help - he had nosed out three - Genie was two behind Lorenzo.
“Perhaps you could take them up as a hobby,” he said. “Be a spare-time farmer.”
“Fat chance,” Genie scoffed. “Where I live, I'd have to travel a long, long way to find a farm, let alone work on one.”
“That sounds like an excuse.”
“There speaks a man who has a farm en-suite.” She tossed her head back to show how offended she was. “Anyway, I’ve never seen you do anything else besides work around the farm. What about your spare time. Just what does a Lorenzo Calderone do in his spare time?” She launched herself at the white oval shape nestling in some straw. “Got one,” she said.
“Brava.”
“So?” she said, scanning the floor. “Surely you like to do something else to take your mind off work.”
“I have no time for hobbies,” he said.
“All work and no play, as they say, makes Lorenzo a dull boy.”
“I'm a dull boy now, am I?” He mimicked Genie's offence gesture.
“No. That's not what I meant–“
“I know the saying.” He shrugged. “I used to paint.”
“Paint? What? Houses and stuff.”
“In a way.”
“In a way?” Genie said, planting herself in front of him. “What sort of answer is that?”
“A sort of honest one.” He gave her an innocent grin.
Genie wrestled with the usual devastating effect.
“And I'm also sort of honest when I tell you that have more eggs than you - even though there are two of you.”
“Bragger.” Genie threw herself back into the game. “Andiamo Domino. More, more.”
Besides egg hunts, there were those other special times. They made joint assaults on the greenhouse to select vegetables for evening meals. Even the walk-in cold room felt warmer when they were together. Despite that, they spent as little time as poss
ible choosing meat.
The first time Genie had seen the vast array of different meats in the cold room she accused Lorenzo of unnecessary animal slaughter.
“I don’t kill animals,” he said.
“Then how--?
“I buy it. There is much here now because it is winter.”
“I’m sorry.” Genie said. “It’s just that I hate the thought of killing animals?”
“And do you eat meat?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then we are both hypocrites.”
Within a very short time after Genie’s arrival, she and Lorenzo established a routine. As the working day slipped over the horizon with the sun, Genie accompanied Lorenzo in the kitchen honing her Italian-style cooking skills.
While her prowess in the kitchen improved rapidly, her Italian language skills moved at a much slower pace. Lorenzo schooled her where he could and she used what she knew at every opportunity. Meanwhile, Lorenzo's English, thanks to constant usage, improved in leap and bounds.
Three weeks into her enforced stay, two big changes occurred.
First, Lorenzo delivered some great news. “That phone call was from my friend Commissario of Police Testa. He has your robbers in prison and has in his possession your camera, passport and credit cards.”
“Oh how wonderful, Lorenzo, Genie said. “I can't believe it.”
“He is very devastated that they had spent all your money before he could catch them.”
“Oh, who cares about money? Tell him I could hug him.”
“He'd enjoy that, but perhaps, it's best not to offer. He may expect you to honour your promise.”
“He deserves it.”
“He told me he will personally make sure your stolen items are kept safe. You can collect them from him when you are ready.”
“Thank you so much, Lorenzo,” she said.
“Niente,” he said. “Nothing.”
“Yes it was. It was everything.” She reached out and brushed down his upper arm gently. “All this...everything you've done...everything. Thank you.” She tip-toed and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“The Italian way is both cheeks,” he said, offering his ignored cheek and sporting a grin than can only be described as roguish.
“Far be it from me to ignore tradition,” Genie said, and honoured the Italian way.
That evening, still buoyant from the good news, Genie took over the kitchen.
“Out, out,” she said, ushering Lorenzo towards the door. “The kitchen is mine this evening.”
“No, no, no,” Lorenzo said in mock protest, putting up only mild resistance. “I'm too young to die.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” She used the door to assist in ejecting Lorenzo. “You'd better find your First Aid box while you're waiting.” She shut the door. “Just in case,” she shouted.
After pausing for a few moments listening at the closed door to make sure Lorenzo moved away, she rubbed her hands together vigorously and set to work.
She'd already raided the cold room for some beef to grind up and the greenhouse for tomatoes, onion, peppers, and parsley. This, together with the cheese and pasta that was always available, she soon produced a succulent baked spaghetti.
Genie's ultimate reward was the delight on Lorenzo's face as he wrapped his mouth and tongue around the first forkful. She thought it made the effort worthwhile - in spades.
“Excellent,” he said. “Complimenti.”
“Grazie,” Genie responded.
“I believe I will not need to dress up warm this evening,” he said. “When I go out to secure everything for the night, your pasta will keep me warm all by itself.”
“I'll come out with you.”
“No, Genie,” he responded waving his hand over the remains of their evening meal. “Tonight, you are in charge of the kitchen, non è vero?” Standing up, he added, “Just make sure there's a hot coffee waiting for me when I come back.”
“Yes Master,” Genie said. Me too. I'll be waiting for you to come back.
Chapter Ten
Lorenzo studied Genie.
Perched on the edge of the recliner - which she had commandeered as her own, she leaned as close to the flames as she dare. “My hands and feet always seem to get the worst of the cold,” she said. “Even that old sun up there doesn't help much. Pretty weak, your Italian sun.”
“Don't let him hear you say that.”
Their evening log-fire worship had become their end-of-the-working-day, pares-dinner ritual. Naturally, Domino welcomed the change. Each evening, he took up residence in front the fire, his snout practically in the flames.
But, nowadays, there was also Genie.
It was a source of constant surprise to Lorenzo, how rapidly he had become used to her presence. He was beginning to hallucinate that she had always been here. The way she so readily made herself at home from the first day, contributed greatly to his hallucination.
She breathed life into his life.
Gone was the love of solitude.
Had it really been love? Or did he make himself believe that? With Genie around, he realized how sterile it had been.
True, he'd had a life before Genie. He and Domino had adapted and survived since Anna. Quite well, he thought. The sudden death of an extraordinary marital relationship of eight years was not easily put aside. Both he and Domino had taken it badly, plummeting both into a deep pit of despair.
It had been a hard climb out.
At first - he recognized with hindsight - he had hidden behind a wall of denial. But Domino, unable to achieve such a feat, mourned Anna's absence openly. Lorenzo witnessed it every day. There were times when he couldn't bring himself to look his dog in the eye.
But, in the end, Domino won. His open sadness broke down Lorenzo's wall of denial and gave him the strength to work through the grief that he bottled up for so long. Ultimately, he and Domino overcame it together.
Then Genie exploded into their lives.
She aroused feelings in him that he didn't want to have - feelings that dragged him into a dark world of guilt. This was a place where he fought hard to stay - for Anna. But, almost against his will, his attraction for Genie continued to grow each day, increasingly illuminating that dark world.
Slowly dulling the sharp edge of guilt.
It shamed him. Anna deserved more of him. He had to contain any feeling for this new girl. To allow them free rein would be a betrayal - both to Anna and to Genie.
In any event, there could be no future with Genie. She made it very clear that she intended to leave as soon as the pass cleared.
He must exercise all his willpower to keep his needs unrequited or the road back to solitude for him and Domino, after Genie, would be a bitter pill he'd rather they did not have to swallow. He had no desire to go through that again. Better to keep Genie at a distance. A Friend. Nothing more. Then, maybe life after Genie would be easier to bear.
Maybe.
In the meantime, she was here now. He would enjoy the experience of her as much as he could in the few weeks that remained. The only way to live with Genie was day by day - moment by moment.
Nevertheless, the past and the future were always there, hovering in the background - the pain of the past and the fear of the future.
“We were out there a long time today,” Genie said.
“Vero. But, working on the farm becomes you.”
“Becomes me?” She emitted a brief laugh. “If my parents could see me now, they'd both have heart attacks, right on the spot.”
“Why?”
She ran a fast movie of her privileged life through her mind. “I'm embarrassed to tell you, Lorenzo.”
He wondered if this was a euphemism for, “it's none of your business”. It certainly bore testing a little. “You...embarrassed,” he said. “I don't believe it.”
“I can be a champion embarrass-er when it calls for it.”
“Really? This is a side of you I've never seen.”
“I'
ll warn you when it's about to happen.” She sat back in the recliner and stretched her bare feet towards the fire. “Ah, that's better.”
Lorenzo recognized he had just received a clear signal that Genie was not going to offer up any additional information. He capitulated and lounged against the back of the sofa.
She really was at home here - and with him. She looked as if she was at home here.
A new thought struggled to surface, bringing with it a familiar guilt-bound tightening in his chest. He quickly averted his gaze from Genie and sought to redemption in the flames. It must not be. Anna... Even the thought of Anna did not stem the realization. Even the weight of guilt pressing down hard could not banish the new thought.
He wanted Genie to be at home here.
Genie's peripheral vision caught Lorenzo turning from the fire and looking at her again. He'd been studying her on and off all evening. That's alright. As long as he stayed at his end of the couch, he could study her much as he wanted.
However, studying was one thing; this accompanying silence was something else. It was fast becoming too much for Genie to bear. She searched for something to say - some way of breaking the silence.
The magazines.
“By the way, Lorenzo, I've been a bit nosey.” She forced a laugh.
“Tell me.” His tone suggested he, too, was relieved that Genie had broken the silence.
“I'm afraid I nosed around in your sideboard over there.” She jerked her head back in the general direction of the sideboard. “I found some old magazines.”
His expression darkened instantly; as if someone had turned off a light inside him.
Surprised by his sudden shift, Genie said, “I'm sorry, Lorenzo, I didn't think you'd mind.”
“No...no. It's alright.” He made a visible effort to switch the light back on. “They were Anna's - my wife.”
“Oh. Perhaps I'd better--”
“No, no,” Lorenzo repeated. He managed to raise a weak smile. “I'd forgotten they were there.”
“Are you sure you don't mind?”
“I should have thrown them away a long time ago.”
Judging by his expression, Genie decided that thoughts about his wife still unhinged Lorenzo - wherever she was. If she had deserted him, then it was obviously still a sore point.
Runaway Love Page 6
