Jack took off his hat and inclined his head politely. “Ma’am,” he said. “We’re looking for the Mullen family. Have I got the right house?”
It was the right house, without question, but the Mullen family had moved away. In her uncertain English the lady of the house explained to him that her husband had bought the house and the business from Mr. Mullen, who had moved away a week ago with his family.
“I don’t know where they went,” she said, and seemed to be searching for words. “Would you like to come in, you and your family?” She stepped back and opened the door in a welcoming gesture. Behind him Jack heard a scuffle and Rosa’s voice, raised in protest.
He did not want to bother these people, but he could see no other way to convince Rosa of the truth.
As she arrived at his side, breathless, trembling, he said, “Rosa, this lady has invited us in to talk for a few minutes.” In Italian he added, “If you can’t mind your manners, you’ll have to wait outside.”
The truculent look on her face did not escape him.
? ? ?
MAGDA AND ISTVAN Szabó were Hungarian immigrants who had come to the States five years earlier and finally saved enough money to buy a place of their own.
With Lia on her lap Anna spoke to Mr. Szabó, who had come in to talk with them because his English was very good. His gaze kept shifting to Rosa, who stood stiffly by the door with Jack.
It was obvious that nothing but the truth would do in this situation. She said, “Mr. Szabó, I realize this is very odd, but if I could just explain—”
Drawing on all the skills honed in years of recounting patient histories during rounds, she told the story of the four Russo children, how they had come to Manhattan, and the loss of the boys. He held up a hand only when he wanted her to pause long enough so he could translate for his wife.
Anna fixed her gaze on Mrs. Szabó. She had a kind face and an open expression, where her husband was more reserved.
“We believe that the Mullens adopted Vittorio,” Anna finished. “And his sisters want so much to see him, we couldn’t keep the truth from them any longer.”
The Szabós were talking, a hushed conversation that was impossible to interpret. Anna was paying such close attention that Lia had slipped from her lap before she realized what was happening. She walked toward Mrs. Szabó, her eyes as big as silver dollars.
“May I see my brother? He’s so little”—a small sharp hiccup escaped her—“deve avere molto paura.”
Rosa spoke up, her voice strained. “She says he must be very afraid.”
The room was suddenly so still that Anna could hear the far-off crash of waves on the beach. In the quiet Rosa came forward and put an arm around her sister. They looked so much alike, and were so different in the way they saw the world. She wondered if Rosa might have been a child more like her sister if circumstance hadn’t demanded the impossible of her.
Mrs. Szabó was clearly moved by the two girls. She looked very near to tears.
“I am very sorry, but I don’t know your brother. I saw him once, a very beautiful boy. A happy boy. But he moved away with his—”
She looked to her husband. “Az új családja?”
“His new family,” he supplied.
“Yes, his new family. We don’t know where they went. I’m very sorry that we can’t help you. But maybe—”
Rosa’s head came up sharply.
“Maybe if you talk to the priest—”
“Father McKinnawae?” Jack asked.
“Yes. Father McKinnawae,” she said. “At Mount Loretto. Maybe he can help you.”
? ? ?
AS THEY CAME over the hillside to see the mission spread out before them, it seemed to Anna that quite a lot of progress had been made since their last visit. On the day they got married, she reminded herself. Only one of the buildings looked to be finished, its chimney putting out a long dark streak of smoke. The two largest buildings were far from finished, but today there was no sign of monks or workmen of any kind. She wondered if they had run out of supplies or volunteers or both. It would be many months before any boys could be made at home here. And she really could not work up any interest. She would always associate this place with Vittorio’s loss. Because he was lost. They went to see the priest because Rosa must see this through, but in Anna’s mind there was no doubt: Vittorio would live his life as Timothy Mullen. She wished him happy and well.