Nicolina stood and moved to the door. “Excuse me.”
Matteo stopped his sister and whispered something in her ear. Nicolina turned and went back to the bed. She leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
Nicolina left the room, closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER 24
Lucca
Anina put on her best silk nightgown. The flimsy straps fell off her shoulders as she brushed her teeth. She spritzed on her perfume before dabbing some lip gloss on her lower lip. She went into the living room and had picked up a book to read when she heard the key in the lock.
Paolo took off his jacket, which stunk of stale smoke, as he entered the apartment. Anina waved her hand in front of her face.
“Hang it out the window.”
“I wasn’t smoking. Everybody else was though.” He threw the jacket on a chair.
“Where were you?”
“Pazzo’s.”
“You met your friends.”
“No. I was alone.”
“Tonight. But last night?”
“I was with friends. Why the questions?”
“I don’t care if you go out. But you’re going out every night.”
“I get bored here by myself.” Paolo sat down on the sofa.
“My grandmother is in the hospital. It cheers her up to have me around.”
“I wish you were concerned about what might make me happy too.”
“Seriously? I have a sick grandmother. You know you make me happy. I don’t know why you are making this difficult.”
“I didn’t get the job.”
“I’m sorry.” She went and sat next to him. “It’s okay, Paolo. It would have been hard to make it in Roma. It’s an expensive city. We’d be far from family.”
“You don’t think I can get a job and make a decent living and take care of us, do you?”
“Of course you can. The right position will come along.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized that she had said these words before, many times. Paolo didn’t believe them any more than she did. Anina picked up his jacket.
“I’ll do it,” Paolo groused, and made a half move to hang the jacket out the window.
“I’ve got it.” Anina pulled a hanger from the closet, opened the window, hung the jacket, and hooked it over the curtain rod to let it air out. “Smoke ruins fabric.”
“I kissed a girl at the bar tonight.”
Anina’s mouth went dry as her heart pounded. “Why did you do that?”
“I just did it.” Paolo placed his head in his hands. “I don’t know.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I tell you everything.”
Paolo went into the bathroom.
Anina felt her legs give out. She sat down.
A few moments later Paolo returned and sat in the chair across from her. “I’m sorry.”
“Were you drunk?”
“A little.”
“Sober enough to know what you were doing.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I was horsing around. The moment I did it, I felt sick. I love you and you’re everything to me.”
“Everything. What does that mean?”
“What it’s always meant. I want to spend my life with you.”
Anina became angry. “What kind of a kiss was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“What kind of a kiss?”
“It wasn’t good. We were talking.”
“About what?”
“She had broken off with her boyfriend, and she decided to challenge herself and kiss one man a day until she found a man she could be with again.”
“What’s her name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You had a conversation with a woman and you kissed her and you don’t know her name?”
“I didn’t ask.”
She glared at him.
“What do you want from me? I made a mistake. I wasn’t going to tell you. I shouldn’t have.”
“So the alternative is keeping secrets? What you shouldn’t have done is kiss another woman and disrespect me, whether you tell me about it or not. This is more about you than it is about me.”
Anina went into the bedroom. She returned with a blanket and pillow. “Sleep out here tonight.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
Paolo had tears in his eyes. Anina had never seen him cry. He looked ugly. “You can’t kiss some random girl in a bar because you’re angry at me,” she said quietly.
Anina went into their small bedroom and closed the door. She ripped the large poster of the romantic beach in Montenegro off the wall. There would be no honeymoon where catamarans floated on still waters lit by the moon. She sat down on the edge of the bed as their future plans slipped through her fingers like sand. Paolo’s tears were one thing, but where were hers? Having a good weep always made her feel better, cleansed in some way. But Anina could not cry, which meant the real pain would come later.
* * *
Matelda sat up in the chair by her hospital bed. She took a small bite of a biscotto before dunking it into her weak tea. “Did you make these?” she asked Nicolina.
“Rosa made them. No good?” Nicolina remade her mother’s hospital bed with sheets from home.
Matelda took another bite. “A little too much baking powder.”
“She’s a better cook than baker.” Nicolina shoved the pillow into a satin pillowcase. “It doesn’t matter to Matteo. He thinks she is Venus.”
“He does.” Matelda nodded. “They say love is better the second time around. I will never know.”
“Neither will I, Mama.”
“Your brother and you are a lot like Nino and me.”
“Are we?”
“Don’t you think so?”
“We don’t bicker as much, Mama.”
“I don’t fight with Nino at all anymore.”
“Is that true?”
Matelda nodded again her head. “He helped me remember a story my grandfather used to tell us about India.”
“The elephant story?”
“Don’t tell me you know it.” Matelda put aside her tea.
“Sure. Nonno Silvio used to act it out for Matteo and me. He learned it from Bisnonno.”
“When?”
“When we stayed overnight with them. When you and Papa took your trips. We loved the story because it was scary, but it also had a moral. Like all good stories.”