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Noticing the pods, I grab a cappuccino one to try. I pop it in where it needs to go and put a mug underneath the nozzle before I press start. The machine whizzes to life as it makes my much-needed coffee. I feel like I’m over the hangover from my birthday and I swear I won’t drink that much again. Ever. Especially if it takes me so long to recover.
When the coffee machine finishes, I take the hot mug and sit in one of the cute hand painted chairs. Holding it in both hands I let it heat my palms as I wait for it to cool before taking a sip. My gaze wanders around the room. The little window to the side of the room with its white lace curtains shows a view out to the neighbours' house. I catch a glimpse of an older lady pruning her rose bush. Her wide brimmed sun hat and pruning shears look like they get a lot of work outside as her roses look immaculate. I wonder if we could start planting some flowers around Lorenzo’s. It doesn’t have many flowers around the property but I haven’t ventured out the back yet, so I’ll have to look at the space after my coffee.
Bringing the hot mug to my lips, I carefully blow the steaming liquid before taking a small sip, testing it to make sure it doesn’t burn. It’s cooled enough now I can drink it and I finish it off quickly before putting it in the sink. I open the fridge, glancing through everything to see if there’s anything I can whip together for breakfast. Not finding much in there I open the bread bin, pulling out the loaf and decide toast is an easy option.
I place two slices in the toaster and lather them in raspberry jam when they pop up. A quick search of the cupboards shows me where the plates are. I move them from the chopping board to my plate and sit back at the table to enjoy them. It’s nice and peaceful in this house. It was always quiet around my house growing up with my parents, but it wasbecause I was often left alone. I find here it’s a different quiet. Inviting. I could find myself happy living here.
I finish my toast and then wash my dishes leaving them to drip dry while I walk back to my room to collect my phone. There’s a message waiting for me as I grab it off the charger where I left it last night.
Lorenzo: Ring me if you need anything x
My heart flutters at the effort of him leaving a note and a text. Gosh is he real? I swipe through my calls list pulling up Ally’s number and ring her.
“Hey Mrs. Moretti, how’s married life?” she asks, as she answers after three rings.
“It’s pretty good, feels like a dream,” I gush.
“So, did you sleep with him already? Tell me, tell me,” She squeals.
“Calm down. No, I did not sleep with him. I slept in the spare room.”
“Ugh why did you do that? Jump that McHotty husband of yours already,” she jokes.
“We decided to take it slow.”
“Girl slow? You’ve already gotten married. I don't think slow is a factor now.”
“Well, we still want to get to know each other before we jump each others’ bones,” I explain.
“Whatever works for the two of you, I guess. What have you got planned for today? I have a client soon, so I have to get going to the salon,” she tells me, and I check the time again. It’s a little after 8.30am and she usually starts seeing her hairdressing clients from 9.00am.
“I’m gonna go for a walk and check out the area,” I tell her.
“So, you guys will live there?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s his grandparents’ house and it’s so cute, I love it already.”
“You sound happy,” she states.
“You know what, for the first time in a long time, I am.”
“I’m happy to hear that but know if you need anything, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you get going. Check in later.”
“Will do. Laters chicky.”
“See ya,” I say, before hanging up. I grab some clothes for the day and head back to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and shower and then step out into the backyard admiring the space. It could be a cute area if we did it up. There’s a deck that runs the length of the back of the house, with two old rocking chairs. The area is fully fenced and has one side of the fence with a planter box running the length of it. I’m guessing someone once had a garden out here. Walking around the side of the house, where the kitchen window looks out, I find the older lady still pruning her roses.
“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Sophia,” I introduce myself. She glances around finding me hanging over the fence and a friendly smile greets me.
“Hello. Are you a lady friend of Lorenzo's? I’ve been telling that boy for years he needs to find a woman,” she tells me, causing me to blush.
“So, you know Lorenzo well then?” I ask.
“Oh yes, I’ve lived next to him and his grandparents since they brought little baby Lorenzo home. I’m Gladys or Mrs. McMillan, which Lorenzo still calls me,” she says, shaking her head with a smile on her face.
“You might be just the person I need,” I tell her.
