Anina waited for her grandfather near the entrance of the hospital.
Olimpio pushed through the doors. “Where is she?”
“The doctor is with her. Follow me.” Anina held the elevator doors open for her grandfather. She followed him inside. When the doors closed, Anina pressed three.
“What happened?”
“She was teaching me how to make the strudel, and she had to sit down. Then she fainted.”
“Did you give her a pill?”
“What pill? She didn’t mention a pill. I brought her here as fast as I could.”
“Thank God.”
They stepped off the elevator together.
“This way, Nonno.”
Olimpio quickened his pace; when he saw his wife’s name on the door of her room, he bolted inside. Anina followed behind him.
“Matelda!” Olimpio was out of breath.
“Why are you panting?” Matelda said calmly as she sat upright in the hospital bed.
“You scared me to death.” He kissed her.
“I had a little spell. It was nothing. Anina insisted I come to the hospital, but there was no reason to—”
“You fainted, Nonna.”
“I hadn’t eaten.”
“We just had lunch.”
“Well, I hadn’t eaten much.”
“You ate a chicken breast, a bowl of soup, and a salad of tomatoes and mozzarella. Oh, and two slices of bread.”
“Well, then maybe I overindulged.”
“Did you take your pill this morning?” Olimpio asked her.
“I didn’t need it.”
“Evidently you did.” Olimpio kissed her forehead. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Before I do, get me out of here. You know that hospitals aren’t a good place for healthy people.”
Anina and Olimpio looked at each other.
“I know you think it’s funny,” Matelda said, “but I’m serious. There are more germs here than there are in the train station.”
The nurse entered with a rolling cart of machines to check Matelda’s vitals. “I’m sorry; if you’ll step outside, I will check Signora.”
“I’ll stay,” Anina offered.
“Get out,” Matelda ordered. “Allow the nurse to gather her numbers. The sooner you leave and she can poke and prod, the sooner I can go home where I belong.”
Olimpio and Anina stepped out into the hallway.
“She’s going to be fine,” Anina said nervously.
Olimpio nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t confident his granddaughter was right. This wasn’t the first time Matelda’s heart problem had brought her to the hospital, but it was the first time anyone else in the family besides Olimpio knew about it.
* * *
Nicolina jumped into the car on the passenger side as Giorgio started the engine. She yanked the seat belt across her chest for the ride from Lucca to Viareggio.
“Take it easy, Nic.”
“I’m going to kill both of them.”
Giorgio took his wife by the hand. “Stop it.”
“How can they do this to me? They call me for every little thing except when it’s life-or-death.” Nicolina yanked her hand away from her husband’s like a petulant child. “Thank God Anina was with her or I would know nothing. My father is secretive and my mother thinks she’s immortal. Those two are in their own little world, the devoted lovebirds. Leaving the rest of us out until there’s a crisis.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to upset you,” Giorgio offered.
“If they told me things as they unfold, I wouldn’t be upset. I could prepare. I hear things after the fact. It’s rude. My mother had a ministroke last year and my father never told me. I heard in the street. Ida Casciacarro stopped me at Ennico’s.”
“There was no permanent damage.”
“That’s not an excuse to withhold information. Besides, how would they know if she didn’t suffer from permanent damage? Who did the tests? Where are the results?”
“I’m not a doctor. I’m telling you what your father told me.”
“So nobody knows anything.”
“She has a weak heart. That’s the diagnosis.”
“There were decisions made, and I was left out of the mix entirely. I should have known about this. I should know what’s going on,” Nicolina cried. “I’m her only daughter.”
“Nic, your family has a problem. When people get sick, they have no compassion. They get angry—as if someone gets sick to irritate them.”
“You mean me. Just say it. I can’t handle my mother being sick.”
“You’re angry. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Of course I’m angry. I jump whenever they need me. My brother comes for dinner and he’s treated like a prince. I get all the bad and none of the good.”
“Matteo and Rosa have called and asked us how they can help.”
“They don’t mean it. They offer and cross their fingers hoping you won’t take them up on it. My brother, the golden boy. It’s been this way all our lives. No matter what Matteo does, he is revered. No matter what I do, I’m judged. Can you imagine what my mother would have done had I divorced you and remarried? Well, it wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have put my parents through it. Am I the only person who sees what is actually going on here?”
“They like your brother more.”
* * *
Nicolina Tizzi barked her name at the attendant as she passed her and went to the elevator, leaving Giorgio to sign in. She squeezed onto the crowded elevator. She disembarked and barreled down the hallway until she found her mother’s room.
Matelda was alone, asleep in the hospital bed. Everything in the room had a tinge of green to it, including her mother. Nobody ever looked well in hospital light, and perhaps that was the point. Nicolina took in the features of her mother’s face.
Matelda’s left eyebrow, though perfectly arched, had a space where a few hairs were missing. Usually her mother drew them in with a light brown pencil, but not today. Matelda wore lipstick but only a stain of pale pink remained. Her nose, one any Italian would envy, was straight as a pin and defined her mother’s noble profile. The cut on her cheek left by the seagull had faded.