Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I take Natalia with me to the hospital. I can’t bear to be apart from her. Marialena stays home under a doctor’s watchful eye.
“Mama,” Natalia says, her little voice shaky in the cold waiting room. “Will Uncle Santo die?”
I close my eyes. I can’t bear to think of it, but I know it could happen. I shake my head and don’t respond at first. I can’t.
I don’t know the answer this time, and it feels so wrong to lie about it.
“Pray, honey,” I whisper to her, because I don’t know what else to say. My family may be invested in terrible things, and I may have done grave things for which there is no forgiveness. But the childhood memory of kneeling in church resurfaces with a vengeance when I’m staring at the brink of the death of the man I love.
The only man I ever have, and we never even got to love freely. I never got to give him the full measure of my love for him. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right.
I’m not surprised to see Nonna, dressed in her signature black and grasping her faded rosary beads, sitting on a folding chair in a corner of the room. Her eyes are closed but she isn’t asleep. I can tell by the way her lips move in recitation of prayer.
Finally, finally, the doctor comes out. He sees all of us sprawled like someone’s let loose a passel of overgrown teens from a late-night party. My high heels, long since kicked off, dangle helplessly from my fingers by their straps. Romeo’s collar’s undone, Tavi’s face is drawn, and Mario paces in front of the vending machines, buying Natalia candy that sits untouched on a table in front of us.
“Who… do I speak to?” he says gravely. The doctor’s a serious sort of man with a bushy gray moustache and a neatly trimmed beard, his scrubs wrinkled from a long night’s work.
Romeo stands and extends his hand while I slip my shoes back on. “Romeo Rossi.”
The doctor bows his head and speaks in a hushed tone to Romeo. “I’m sorry to tell you this,” he whispers, his eyes furtively moving around the room. “Mr. Rossi. We did everything we could…”
I stand, wobbling. I feel as if a cold chill was just sent down my spine. Santo… my Santo… I feel as if I could handle literally anything but… but that.
It can’t be. I won’t believe it, I can’t. Not my Santo.
Romeo sinks to the floor and covers his face with his hands. I go to him and put my hands on his shoulders. One broad hand covers mine as Romeo weeps.
“Doctor Follet. Doctor!” A frantic nurse rushes into the room, her cheeks flushed. “He’s awake, Doctor. Come quick!”
Romeo and I stare, open-mouthed, as the doctor turns on his heel and runs.
I can hardly handle the abruptness of it all, feeling as if I’ve been doused in a bath of ice water then set to tumble dry on high. I blink and stare before I remember who I am.
I am Rosa Rossi. I am the eldest of this family. I’ve buried one husband and am raising a child. I’ve guided and cared for every one of my siblings and been the best daughter, mother, and lover I know how to be.
And I belong to Santo, my fearless Santo.
I square my shoulders and leave the others behind. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I follow Romeo down the hall.
Wordlessly, he takes my hand and gives me a little squeeze. “Stay strong,” Rome says. “We have to stay strong, sister.”
I nod.
“Never buried a brother before,” he begins.
“And we won’t start now,” I finish.
Romeo gives me a sad smile.
But when we reach the room, they won’t let us in. Two male nurses block our entrance and shake their heads. “No, sir. No one can come in now. You must—”
Apparently Romeo doesn’t much care that he was just released from prison. In one swift, fluid movement, he draws his gun. “Let me in there. I won’t cause any harm, unless you keep us out.”
The first nurse holds his hands up in the air, stepping back, and the second nurse talks to him in a whispered voice. I catch Rossi family, mob, stand back.
“That was a bit over-the-top, Romeo,” I chide, but he ignores me, pushes the door open, and gestures politely for me to enter, as if he’s taking me to dinner. The gun is nowhere to be seen now.
We enter the room but stand out of the way as doctors and nurses do their work. Lights flash and machines beep. Santo has so many tubes and wires I can hardly see him, but I focus on his chest. It heaves in and out, up and down.
He lives.
I turn my head to Romeo and bury my face in his shoulder, stifling the sob that comes hard and fast.