AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Also, he would be asked to report to the grove manager once a month with the maintenance supervisor to go over reports, employee records, and the like. The grove manager would be me. God, that felt so weird. Me. The manager of a grove. I didn’t even really care for olives all that much. I’d tried one once when I was eight and nearly gagged. Perhaps I should try them again. Just because they say tastebuds change every seven years.
I read over the job description a few more times and then sent the link to a still silent Donvino. Blowing out a breath, I crept from the bed to the patio, stepped out all brazen-like, and glanced down at the shrine. Giada must have returned to the villa, for the only thing paying homage to the lady was a brown wren of some sort that was trying to steal some dead flower petals from an offering at the Virgin’s feet.
My phone rang. I bolted back to the bed, pouncing on it like a hungry jackal, and stared at the incoming call from my father. Holy shit, this had to be some sort of miracle. Maybe Giada had prayed for me to be called back to America. Not likely. That realization brought me up short. How had my opinion of this country changed so swiftly? I was pretty sure a certain young man with big doe eyes had a large hand in that.
“Hey, Dad,” I said in greeting, padding back to the patio and taking a seat on the cool cement. I breathed in a rich blend of aromas. Some not so pleasing as the wind carried the smell of the river into the house. The Arno was not pleasant at all now. Thankfully, a subtle shift in the breeze picked up the richness of jasmine and honeysuckle. “This is two calls in the same month. What is going on here?”
He chuckled. “Seems we’re turning into chatterboxes.” I smiled at the setting sun, the sound of his pleased voice making my inner little Arlo incredibly happy. “I just wanted to touch base with you about the job offer. I know I said to take your time, and I still want you to do that, but I wanted to let you know that I spoke with Maximo about a transfer and he seemed quite willing to train you for a few weeks before he moves on. I know that it seems like a lot to take on all at once, which is why I’m going to loan you Lowell for a month or so.”
“Oh. What does Lowell say about that?” I wasn’t all that sure that my father’s PA wanted to babysit me as I fumbled about trying to run a mill as large and productive as farm 20.
“Lowell works for me, Arlo, and he’ll do as I ask. But he’s always happy to spend time in Italy, as most are.”
“Okay,” I replied, still not fully sold on Lowell Perry being my right-hand man. “So, is this what you moguls call ‘sweetening the deal’?”
“Something like that. Is it working?”
Dad sounded almost eager. “I have to secure a job for my friend before I can commit.”
“Oh? Is this a friend or a friend?”
“That’s kind of up in the air right now,” I responded as I wiggled my toes. I’d never discussed my love life with my father before because I’d never had anyone special. “He’s not exactly out.”
“Ah, that is a problem. Can I give you some advice?”
“On being gay?”
“Well, no, not that exactly, but just some…perhaps I shouldn’t.”
“No, Dad, go ahead.” I wanted to hear what he had to say. Despite all of our battles since my mother had passed, and there had been many, he had never once wavered in his acceptance and support of my queerness.
“I’m not trying to get my nose into your affairs,” he began, which made me roll my eyes heavenward. Him being in my affairs is why I was in Italy to begin with. I mean, he had already reached into my life big time, but things seemed to have worked out so far. If I’d not come here, I’d not have met Donvino who was gods knows where, doing gods knows what. “I just wished to say that if this friend is a special one, do not let life’s trivialities bar you from finding something meaningful.”
I mulled over that for a moment. It felt like he was maybe trying to be nosy in a roundabout way. Perhaps that was just me looking for some wedge to shove in between us, as I usually tend to do when people got too close.
“Arlo?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Dad.” I pushed away that instinct to lay mental bricks. This was the most pleasant discussion he and I had had in years. Olive branches and all that. “Just parsing.”
“I understand.” His accent tended to return when he was feeling things deeply. He’d worked incredibly hard to train that thick Italian flavor from his speech. Personally, I found the accent to be passionate and quite appealing. “Some people will bring up many reasons for two people not to be together. Society has silly dictates about who is acceptable. Do not let those old rules interfere with your friendship.”
I recalled Mom telling me when she met Dad she had been a free spirit, a traveler, a dancer, and a lover of freedom. While Mom never came right out and said Aunt Ginerva disliked her, the vibes were strong. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I disliked coming to Italy as a boy. I felt the animosity in the air but was too young to fully understand it.
“I have no plans ever to let society dull my colors. I am a rainbow dreamer after all,” I said, my sight lingering on the trunk, lying like a sack of discarded bones in the corner.
“That is perhaps the most apt name for you I have ever heard.”
“I thought it fit. Can I have a few more days to think about the job offer?”
“Of course. I’ll have Lowell send over the contract via email for you to read while you ponder.”
“Contract?” I wasn’t sure I wanted a contract. What if the job sucked? What if I sucked at the job? The second was more than likely what would happen.
“Calm yourself, son. It’s a standard employment contract. All management workers sign them. When you read it over, you’ll see. It explains wages, job expectations, retirement plans, health insurance, and such.”
“Will it say that I can be transferred whenever someone thinks I should be? Because if it has that clause, I’ll refuse to sign it. I think that’s a shitty clause and a shitty thing to do to a person who has been busting ass for the company for years. Trust me, being yanked out of your home and forced to go somewhere you don’t know is terrible.” I heard the exhalation on the other end. Dad was probably rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he did when I pushed his buttons. “I’m not trying to stir up things. We’ve had a really nice chat here, but I meant what I said. What you did to me was shit and I think you know it.”
“I was at my wit’s end, Arlo. Sometimes, as a parent, you need to practice tough love.”
