Lights On
Sunday, April 11th, 2010I would have made supper, but Federico was even more fussy and valetudinarian than your average Italian man, and insisted on making himself risotto bianco with only a single leaf of basil to flavour it. He was already on beta-blockers and drank no wine at all. There was never any question of his sleeping anywhere but in the big bed with me, but he was horrified to find that I slept with all the windows open.
[…]
The next day he said, “Let me bring you light. I’m going to give you a generator.” I thought he meant an old one, but what I got was brand new. Then he sent his own electricians to wire it up. “Now, every time you turn the lights on, you’ll think of me,” he said.