Description

When Uncle Renzo died, he left his two nieces, Anna and Milly, a property in Madrano, in Trentino. The news might have been received with joy, if the two sisters had not stopped speaking to each other many years earlier. For reasons now too distant to be recounted without reopening old wounds, they had turned silence into a respectable habit. The inheritance, therefore, promised not only a house, but also the little-desired return of a sister.Anna was the first to arrive. Madrano won her over almost immediately: the village, nestled among meadows, woods and ancient vineyards, looked toward the mountains and the small lakes of Valsugana. There was a particular tranquility in those unhurried places. The property was even more fascinating. The garden, spacious and minimalist, was enhanced by modern statues that created a pleasant contrast with the ancient walls. At the center stood an old stone well. The house, on the other hand, seemed like a small world built to surprise. On the ground floor there was a large kitchen, dominated by a charming fireplace, a dining area and a cellar intended for good local wines. The floors were made of magnificent porphyry, the local stone, and gave the rooms that solidity that makes some houses more reassuring than others. But there was a curious, almost fairy-tale-like room, which Anna loved more than all the others. It had a fireplace topped by a dome and, along the walls, outdoor lanterns. It seemed as though a street had been captured and imprisoned inside the house. Two enormous French doors, placed on opposite sides, allowed light to pass through it: one looked onto the garden, the other onto the side street. There was also a bathroom, a cellar and a room with a splendid fireplace, next to which was the sailing-ship room, a rough-finished room with a splendid sailing ship in a display case. A beautiful marble staircase led to the first floor, with an elegant living room, bedrooms and bathrooms with wooden floors. Among these, Anna's favorite was the room with the six-pointed star created by a pattern of different woods in the floor. In the bathroom, handmade tiles added a discreet grace. Between the first and second floors there was an intermediate floor with two more bedrooms and spaces for a kitchen or a bathroom and the possibility of going down into the garden. The second floor offered a large living room with a fireplace, a raised room with exposed beams, a bathroom, a bedroom and a small kitchenette an unfinished wing was patiently waiting to become more bedrooms. There was also a self-contained apartment, already habitable, with a large kitchen, dining room, a magnificent living room with a fireplace, a bathroom, a laundry room and a large bedroom. In that house, after all, fireplaces seemed to have been considered a moral necessity. Anna had already decided that the house would not be sold. Milly, on the other hand, arrived from America with the opposite intention. Elegant, sophisticated and highly practical, she considered the property above all an asset to be renovated and sold. She arrived by taxi one full-moon evening and, as she crossed the garden, she was drawn to the moon reflected in the old well. Milly leaned over the water and saw the entire house reflected: the walls, the windows, the garden She remained silent. When Anna joined her, there was no need to explain anything. For the first time in many years, the two twins reunited and so did their thoughts and desires that house had been left to them so that they could take up again the dream they had had as children: to fill those rooms with guests, the kitchen with aromas, the garden with gatherings and the long room with music and laughter. Anna would teach classical dance and old dances again. The windows would open onto the garden and the young students would twirl in the golden light of the lanterns. Milly smiled. Perhaps Uncle Renzo had understood before they did that certain inheritances cannot be measured in money.