“Hi. Give me one second,” he said, turning to Vittorio to tell him where to bring the toilet. “Ciao, Vittorio. Bellissimo. Portiamolo direttamente alla casa.” Vittorio was a good guy, the best plumber in town until his arthritis got the best of him. As he rolled out of the office, Andrea turned back to Lora. “Sorry about that. Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She smiled, stepping toward his desk. “What was that?”
“Portable toilet?”
“Do you wheel refrigerators around and call it a lunch box?”
“No, but now you’ve got me thinking about what I can do with a rolling dehumidifier,” he said. “Sorry, I don’t want to distract you from work. Is Vilmari coming, or is she playing tennis this morning?”
“Vilmari is on her way back to New York. She had a business emergency—a good one, actually. She’s about to get the interview of a lifetime and she couldn’t pass it up. But I am not here to work today. In fact, that’s what I wanted to tell you. I found the birth certificate.”
“You did! That’s fantastic!” he said. He instinctively opened his arms as though he’d be hugging her in celebration but caught himself and ended up oddly folding them against his chest instead.
“Yes. I was just with Franca, and we officially filed the request for citizenship. I was even able to communicate withher—nome, data di nascita, paese.See?” she said, pointing at her mouth. He couldn’t help but watch her slightly glossy lips as she smiled at her own good news.
“That’s really great,” he said, starting to feel warm in the room. He wanted to open the window by his desk, but then Lorenzo leaned into the doorway with a copy of the building plans in his hand, asking if Andrea had a minute. “Excuse me, just one second more.” Lora nodded and sat in one of the chairs. Lorenzo wanted to know where he should drop the secondhand cooktop he had sold to Andrea and what wall would house the new fuse box. Andrea quickly explained and told him that the house was open and he would likely find Vittorio there if he had other questions. Lorenzo nodded at Lora and smiled before making his way out.
Andrea turned back to her. “OK, sorry. Yes, that’s very good. They will email back when they officially receive it, no doubt.”
“Good to know,” she said. She reached up and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to apologize actually. I’ve been wanting to for a while now. I acted like a real brat the day we met with Maria, and I am frankly appalled at my behavior.”
“Well, thank you, but that’s unnecessary.”
“No. It’s not. I think I’ve been frustrated because I started to feel like I don’t have any options—not that it’s an excuse,” she said, lightly touching his forearm. “I don’t want to feel like that. So, I read a little online and I may have a solution.”
“Buondì!”Carola sang out into the office, carrying a large reusable shopping bag. Reaching in, she pulled out two matching sconces. “Ti va?” she asked. His eyes flicked to Lora’sagain, silently asking for her patience. He liked the sconces. They’d be perfect on the wall in the entryway. Carola agreed and turned her attention to Lora.
“Tu sei la Loretta,” she said. He expected Lora’s face to go stormy.
“I’m Loretta.Sì,” she said, no clouds in sight. “Well, I’m Lora.”
“Ah! Lora, OK.” Carola nodded. She stepped forward, squinting as she looked at Lora’s face. “Hai gli stessi occhi di Ivo.”
Lora cocked her head in confusion and turned to Andrea.
“She says you have Ivo’s eyes.”
“Oh,” she said, blinking at Carola. “That’s interesting. I didn’t know that he—I mean, I didn’t know that we…” She trailed off.
Carola nodded, smiled. She turned to Andrea and told him that she used to work at Ivo’s farm a few days per week, more in the tourist season. He’d had no idea, of course. He’d hardly thought about the man who’d owned that property once upon a time until his daughter walked into his life.
“I cook,” Carola said to Lora in English before switching to explain something in Italian.
“She cooked for the staff at the farm and made the lunches for the trail rides in the summer,” Andrea filled in. “I bet she has tons of stories.”
“I’m sure,” Lora said, shifting her weight to lean against a chair.
Carola turned to Andrea. “Ci vediamo lì?”
“Sì, sì. La sto portando lì adesso.”
“Bene. Si vede che ci tiene a lei.” She winked at him andwalked out the door. And now he was going to have to find a way to translate the fact that Carola had read his thoughts about Lora like she was reading the newspaper and had just called him out on them.
Lora raised her eyebrows in a question.
“She said that she can tell I think you’re special.”
“And how can she tell that?” she asked, her cheeks turning pink.
