I Think Olive You by Tristen Crone

Author:Tristen Crone [Crone, Tristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Country Press & Reviews
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Why does the bed always feel best when I have to leave it? Giuliana’s hands shook me awake multiple times last night but our brief conversations never strayed back to that vulnerable place. Now, I’m left with the fuzzy tired feeling of interrupted sleep and the dread that returning to reality brings.

We don our clothes from the night before. A headache splits my skull from the fall and not a hangover for once. The ring still rests around Giuliana’s finger and something fizzes inside of me to know she’s slept with it on. We pack our stuff into my backpack and tidy the room, ready for checkout by ten. No words are exchanged except for a soft good morning and stolen glances.

Francesca greets us both with a smile and congratulations before setting us up for the tour. The space has been transformed back to normal, wedding tables and chairs a hazy memory from last night. The ballroom is now a sitting room with little groupings of armchairs and end tables. It feels kind of like a hotel lobby—a place to enjoy a coffee as you stare out at the grove.

It’s luck, or serendipity, that the owner decides to do the tour for us.

“We really don’t want to put you out!” Giuliana insists but the older man shrugs us off.

His black hair is shot through with silver at the temples—distinguished; exactly the kind of man you’d picture owning a grove or a vineyard, capable and smooth. When we shake hands, calluses brush against my palm and I know he’s more than just a paper-pusher. Like Giuliana, he’s involved. He works hard.

The grove is bathed in warm midmorning sunshine, and I wish we were lounging by a pool or something. When all this is over and I get back to New York—whatever I get back to—I really need to take some time to just be. I’ve been running from myself for so long I don’t know how to exist in a space for the sake of it. It might be time to figure it out soon.

The owner—Claudio—tells us about how the grove was passed down from generation to generation, son to son. His story is similar to Giuliana’s—this is still a family business, one that pivoted when times got harder. The villa has been expanded on and upgraded through the years and about five years ago he made the choice to open it up as a boutique hotel and wedding venue to supplement their income.

“Well, it’s beautiful and you’ve done a fantastic job!”

“It wasn’t easy. It still isn’t, but seeing people enjoy the home I grew up in and the land that’s part of my blood is all worth it.” Claudio’s pride is evident and the way he talks about it sounds so much like Giuliana that I can’t help but smile.

We walk some more of the grove and stop near the house to try the olive oils and vinegars they’ve produced. Bread and oil. So simple, yet the livelihood of so many people—the legacy they get to leave.

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