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She shrugs and opens her clasped hands in a typically Italian gesture of acquiescence.
“Well, um… circumstances that cannot be altered have forced her to forsake the man she loves and marry a man she detests and she doesn’t know what to do to solve her problem.”
“If the circumstances cannot be altered then she must accept her marriage as a priceless gift.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“No woman will willingly choose to have a child with Down syndrome, and yet, how curious it is that every mother who gives life to such a child will sincerely swear she has been bestowed with a divine gift. When my cat was terminally ill ten winters ago, she would sometimes suffer terrible diarrhea in the early hours of the morning. By the time I had shampooed and dried Appolonia, and cleaned the floor, I couldn’t go back to sleep so I would wrap myself in thick blankets and go out into the garden with her. We would watch the night creatures while we waited for dawn to break. They were some of the most precious times of my life, my dying Appolonia curled up in my arms as the sun rose above the frozen lake. If she had not fouled the house and made it too smelly to live in, I would never have known those unforgettable moments.”
I frown with confusion. “But what about when you lost Appolonia? Wasn’t that a terrible moment?”
Her face becomes tender with the memory of her dead cat. “On the contrary. Appolonia’s passing was beautiful. I held her in my arms as her life ebbed away, but a few moments before she left her ravaged body, she transcended pain and looked at me with pure love shining in her eyes. In that moment she taught me that death is not to be feared. When we discard our bodies, we go elsewhere, and we go whole and unblemished.”
“Francesca,” Isabella calls again, but this time her voice is nearer. I glance back and see her walking towards us.
“It is time for you to go, but please tell your friend to look for the beauty in her suffering and sacrifice… and the hate she feels in her heart will turn into the greatest love she has ever known.”
“Thank you, Nonna Fabiola. I’ll tell my friend what you said,” I whisper and stand.
She smiles, and the joy inside her pours out of her body and reaches out to touch me.
“Goodbye, child. You have a beautiful life waiting for you. Embrace it. Every marvelous second.”
Chapter Sixteen
FRANCESCA
As I walk towards Isabella, I see someone behind her run up to her and say something to her. Isabella looks irritated and throws up her hands in resignation. Then she waves at me and follows the person back to the house.
Once she is gone from sight, I realize I do not want to rejoin the party and engage in empty chatter just yet. I want to spend some time alone exploring Nonna Fabiola’s unique take on the meaning of life. Is Nonna Isadora really ‘a little mad’ or is there great beauty hidden even in pain and suffering?
Leaving the garden and the crowds, I walk briskly towards a pair of tall wrought iron gates. They are heavy and open with a rusty rattle. I slip through them and walk down a path with high hedges on either side of it. At the end of it I come upon a vast vineyard. A patchwork of green rows that stretch as far as my eyes can see. Row upon row of grape trees heavy with fruit that look almost translucent in the setting orange sun. Nonna Isadora’s words ring in my head.
Every second of life is beautiful, immeasurably, stupendously so.
And a new awareness of my surroundings tingles on my skin. I walk along the rows, in awe of the stunning beauty around me. Can I live as if every moment is a gift? Find the silver lining in every dark cloud? Is my marriage a priceless gift? I would not be here, in this gorgeous place if I had not married Valentino. What about my love for Thomas though?
I hear a sound behind me and I whirl around to see Valentino standing a few feet away. That damn stealth of his! How did he come through the gate so quietly? He stands very still and becomes part of the exquisite beauty of the moment. I feel a rush of strange emotion. Emotion that frightens me. What is this feeling?
“Go away, Valentino,” I say, but the wound between my legs opens up again and calls to him to soothe it.
Instead of leaving, he saunters towards me. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“For good reason,” I say quietly. “You raised a gun to Matteo.”
He stops before me. “I don’t regret it.”
I shake my head at him. “He is your cousin, Valentino. If you can shoot him, I’m scared of what you can do to me!”
His eyes widen with disbelief and he chuckles, a low ruinous sound in the still evening air. “You’re scared?”
“Yes, I am scared,” I insist passionately. But that’s a lie. it is not fear that fills my heart. It is a shudder of pure desire shooting through my body. Jesus, I really am that ridiculous moth flying cheerfully towards my own annihilation.
Suddenly, I don’t want to be alone with him.
I try to march past him, but he picks me up like I weigh nothing more than a feather. I kick and fight for him to set me down, but his arms only tighten inexorably around my waist. One of his hands crawls up to my neck, angling my head to the side and keeping my gaze locked on his.
“I’m tired of you running and lying to me. Let me show you exactly what I can do to you,” he whispers in my ear, and I turn to pudding in his arms. Damn this dangerous fascination I have developed for him.