When Madalina leaned forward to mix her soda water and fruit drink, Paulo stopped her and did it for her, following Cosimo’s instructions to the letter. When he handed Madalina the glass, he said, “A beautiful drink for a beautiful girl.”
Wow. Nothing like pouring it on thick.
“Grazie amore mio. You are always so sweet to me.”
“So it is like that already,” I snipped, mocking his words. Why I was even reacting to him at all, no less in this catty way, was beyond me. During the few times we’d interacted, my emotions toward him ran the gamut. He made me angry, and then he surprised me with kindness and chivalry, only to confuse and frustrate me again.
“Of course,” he said. I couldn’t tell which of us his response was intended for. I felt Cosimo’s eyes on me, though, and Madalina’s brows had disappeared under her bangs, her expression rife with questions. I just took a long sip of my own beautiful drink.
Mr. Rude Guy from the train was back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Ani,” Madalina broke the awkward silence. “Paulo has something wonderful for you today. It is in the car. We will get it for you, okay?” She stood and clutched at Paulo’s elbow, bringing him up with her, not giving him any opportunity to object. “Do not go anywhere, both of you,” she quipped, waving a red-tipped finger back and forth between us.
I could hear their low murmurs even after they disappeared around the house. If they weren’t arguing, they were having a very passionate discussion about something.
Cosimo slid a hand up under my skirt and cupped my calf the way he’d done last night. A shiver coursed through me but the man in front of me couldn’t displace all thoughts of the brooding Paulo and his saucy Elvgren pin-up girl.
“Are you tired, bellisima? Do you need to rest? Do you want me to help you to your bed?” His voice was low, soothing, and I smiled encouragingly at him.
“No, Cosimo. I’m happy right where I am.”
“That is what I like to hear.” His hand drifted up to the crook of my knee and I flinched.
“Remember I’m ticklish there.”
“Oh? I thought you were only saying that so I would stop touching you last night.” He winked at me and I laughed out loud, lifting my face to the cool breeze sweeping up the hillside as he fingers gently massaged my calf muscles.
“Is this how you treat all your patients, Dr. Lazzaro? Breakfast on the terrace and foot massages?” The question sounded more sensual than I’d intended, and he responded in a similar tone.
“Only the ones I like very much. Ani. Especially the plump little sparrows.”
The sun was high in the sky, warming me to my bones. I sat in silence, taking it all in, the light filtering through the intertwined branches laced through the trellising overhead, Cosimo’s hand solid against my flesh. I was looking the other way, out toward the pool, when Paulo and Madalina came back around the corner of the house, their voices growing louder as they drew nearer. I wasn’t in the mood for more of Mr. Rude Guy’s scowls.
But Cosimo’s fingers tightened around my leg reflexively, and I turned to look.
Madalina sat, her shapely legs crossed elegantly, in a wheelchair, a brilliant smile on her face. A real live wheelchair, complete with footrests. For me? I might actually be able to get around without bashing into walls and rolling over the toes of my good foot with that thing.
Once again, Paulo Durante had surprised me. And once again, I had no idea how to react.
“Princess Grace, your ride awaits!” When Paulo brought the chair to a stop at the edge of the terrace, Madalina hopped up and stepped aside, posing like a car show model. “Do you like it? It is perfect, no? Paulo is your hero!” Then she reached over, grabbed him by the ears, and kissed him loudly on the mouth. “There. I kiss him for you since your doctor is sitting beside you.” She stepped up onto the terrace and leaned close, speaking from the corner of her mouth, but loudly enough for both men to hear. “You do not know what you are missing, Princess Grace. Paulo’s kisses. Muah!” She touched her lips with bunched fingers, made a kissing sound, and fanned her face dramatically. With a wink at Cosimo, she beckoned to me. “Come. You must try it. We can take you spinning. If it is okay with your doctor, of course.”
Flushed with embarrassment at her brazen comments, I kept my mouth shut. I was not a ‘make-a-scene’ type girl. Clearly, though, Madalina liked nothing better. I could see something stirring under the cool exterior of Cosimo’s expression as Paulo maneuvered the chair up the steps and over close to me. Not waiting for me to pivot on my own, Cosimo bent low in front of me, told me to put my hands on his shoulders, then all but lifted me out of my seat and turned me to sit in the wheelchair. Crouching beside me and speaking in low tones that seemed intentionally intimate, he demonstrated how to raise the footrest to elevate my leg, and how to release it slowly so my foot wouldn’t free-fall. He showed me where to place my hands to wheel myself around and how to use the brake lever, and reminded me several times to keep my hands up on the armrests whenever anyone else was pushing me.
He rose and stepped back, hands low on his hips, sizing up me and my new ride. He didn’t look happy, but I thought it had more to do with the giver than the gift.
Paulo stood behind me, gripping the handles at my back. I could feel the chair quiver slightly whenever he shifted his weight, and I thought perhaps he was dodging the daggers Cosimo kept tossing his way. I wondered if Paulo knew all the stuff Cosimo had just taught me about the chair, and had simply had to bite his tongue and let the doctor do his thing, since we were in Lazzaro territory, and I was his guest, not to mention his patient. If so, then this lesson in wheelchair safety must have been like rubbing salt in a wound. This was Paulo’s gift to me, not Cosimo’s.
In fact, the question suddenly occurred to me; why hadn’t Cosimo sent me home in a wheelchair? Was it because I didn’t have the money to pay for it? Did he not have a loaner in his office? It seemed like something any clinic should come equipped with.
I had to say something, and since Cosimo had yet to acknowledge the gift, it was clearly up to me. “This is amazing, Paulo.” I glanced up at him over my shoulder, but the sun was high in the sky, casting his features in shadow. I couldn’t even tell if he was looking at me or not. “Thank you. Where on earth did you find it?” It wasn’t new, but it was clean and in good working order, and best of all, it was compact, not like a hospital-issue chair.
Paulo replied in a somber voice. “I borrowed it from a friend. His wife passed away last month. She no longer needs it.”
Madalina, who’d smiled with pleasure throughout Cosimo’s lesson, looked aghast at Paulo’s words. “Wheesht! Sometimes you should not speak, Mr. Durante.” She stepped up beside Cosimo, slid her arm through his, and turned him toward the gravel path leading around to the front of the house. “Come, Doctor. We lead the way. Paulo,” she called over her shoulder, “stay silent and push.”
Paulo reached down on either side of me and released the brakes, keeping his face averted. I folded my hands in my lap and kept my own gaze fixed on the ground in front of me. I held my breath until he was out of olfactory range so I wouldn’t embarrass myself.
“You must lean back while I take you down the steps,” he commanded from above my head. “You will have to trust me.” And with that briefest of warnings, he tipped the chair onto its back wheels, grinned mischievously down at me, and started pushing me toward the three steps. I let out a startled squawk and held on, hoping my skirt would stay put. It did, and he handled the stairs with amazing finesse, barely a bump to be felt, easing me back down onto four wheels as gently as he would a tiny baby.
Cosimo, for some odd reason, hadn’t even turned around at my cry of alarm, but seemed completely absorbed in whatever nonsense was spilling out of Madalina’s mouth. She gazed up into his face adoringly and I had an overwhelming desire to pull her hair. Hard.
I couldn’t tell who was playing on what team, and I was a little ticked. Maybe Cosimo had a good
understanding of the levers and knobs and gadgets on this thing, and maybe Paulo knew how to work one like a pro, but I didn’t. This was my first experience in one of these puppies, and I had no clue what to expect, especially after rolling around on my office chair the last few days, my biggest fear being that of tipping over backwards. Whatever macho thing these two had to prove to each other, I didn’t like being in the middle of it.
We rolled along in silence behind Cosimo and Madalina, who sashayed becomingly, the hemline of her skirt swishing back and forth just below the crease of her knees. It was rather hypnotic and I wondered if Paulo was watching the movement, too.
As we neared the front of the house, my ears picked up the sound of car wheels on the gravel drive. Ahead of us, Madalina waved, released Cosimo’s arm, and hurried forward to greet whoever had pulled in. I assumed it was the rest of the family and I breathed a sigh of relief.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I still had yet to meet Franco, Isa’s father, so introductions were made all around, and my good health congratulated by everyone, with extra hugs and air kisses to Paulo for his thoughtfulness toward me. Claudia insisted Paulo and Madalina stay for the evening meal, and although I could tell by his face he’d prefer to be anywhere else tonight, Madalina had accepted the invitation for both of them with great enthusiasm.
A boisterous tour of the rest of the house followed the meet and greet, one that included what could only be called a childish skirmish between Cosimo and Paulo about how to get me and my wheelchair up and down the stairs. Franco, a bear of a man, intervened by offering to carry me while the two roosters, as he called them in Italian, took care of the chair. Flushed and agitated, I was wheeled around by Franco himself after that, from one charming and eclectically decorated room to another. I was grateful for his taking charge, but wondered what on earth he must have thought of me and the trouble I’d unwittingly stirred up in his home.
As soon as we were all safely back downstairs, I excused myself to my own room to rest before dinner. Both Isa and Madalina came with me, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t sleepy. I just needed a break from the sustained tension in the air between Cosimo and Paulo. Gerardo suggested turning on a televised soccer match in the family room, bringing about an uneasy truce between the two, but I still felt somehow responsible for disturbing the peaceful Sunday afternoon.
I sat with my back against the headboard, a pillow behind me and two more elevating my ugly foot. How had this happened? How had I, serious little college girl who still dreamed of fairy tales and happily-ever-afters, become the stomping ground for two rutting bulls? Okay, so it wasn’t quite that barbaric, but I didn’t know how to comport myself in this situation. I was flattered, certainly, and embarrassed and flustered and uncomfortable about being a point of contention. Being a wallflower required so little effort compared to this push-me-pull-you sensation, and I wished Tish were here to talk to, not because she’d have a good answer. In fact, knowing her, she’d tell me to get over myself and enjoy the wealth of attention.
But that’s not who I was. I wasn’t a player. I wasn’t the kind of girl to string guys along. In fact, I wasn’t the kind of girl to string myself along. If I liked someone, I freely admitted it to myself. I wasn’t interested in playing games and being coy. I wasn’t good at it. Jacob said he liked the fact that I wore my heart on my sleeve. He called me guileless, and said it was an uncommon trait in women these days.
Tish, on the other hand, said I was naive, but I didn’t know how to be any other way.
Besides, what about Madalina? She and Paulo seemed as mismatched as could be, but in their case, the old adage about opposites attracting seemed spot on. Vivacious and brash, Madalina was the quintessential diva. Paulo, on the other hand, the embodiment of a storm cloud with his semi-permanent scowl and brooding stares. Didn’t his behavior toward me today bother her at all? I would have been more than a little ticked off in her shoes. Maybe it hadn’t been gallantry on the train after all. Maybe Paulo had just been a jerk to me that day. And now he was being a jerk to both of us.
I looked sideways at her, my head resting on the pillow behind me. The afternoon sun fell through the open window around her feet, and she twirled slowly in the pool of it, her dress rippling out around her.
“So you like my dress, Princess Grace?” Madalina caught me watching her and stopped spinning, holding her skirt out wide at her sides as she dipped a quick curtsy to me. “I made it for myself. It is difficult to find one dress to hold my body.”
I snorted and nodded. “You have a lot of body for one dress to hold, Madalina,” I replied. She was obviously proud of her figure, and she had good reason to be.
She tipped her head back and laughed, then blew a kiss toward the heavens. “Grazie, Dio. He is good to bless me this way, yes? He did not make me to have the face of a beautiful rose like you, Ani, or to be so elegant like Isa. Look at her!” She waved a hand at Isa who lay draped across the foot of my bed. “Such a glamour girl.” She twirled again, arms out. “But me, he gives a beautiful body to capture the eyes of the men, and the intelligenza to hold their hearts. My man only goes when I release him.”
I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was with the idea that God’s motive for giving Madalina a voluptuous figure was so she could capture the eyes of men. But I got the odd sensation that Madalina might be telling me something. Was she warning me off Paulo? Staking her claim? Is that why it seemed she was purposely making Cosimo jealous?
“Madalina,” Isa pushed up to a sitting position and eyed the Romanian girl across the room. “You are a beautiful woman, inside and outside. Men see more than your body. Do not be mistaken.”
Madalina shrugged and twirled again, much more slowly this time.
“Come. Sit with the girls.” Isa patted the bed beside her, the bangles at her wrist tinkling prettily. They seemed to be a staple in her wardrobe. My bed was large, thank goodness, and I laughed when Madalina sprawled out between us, laying her head on Isa’s lap. Personal space in this country was pretty much a non-issue.
Isa toyed with the fat curls of Madalina’s hair. “So, tell us. Are you in love with a man who only sees your body, tesora, and not your heart?” I bit my lip as I listened. Wasn’t this also my story? Every girl’s story? I thought about my intense attraction to Cosimo then, and the fact that I knew so little about him. Perhaps it was every man’s story, too.
“No. It is only that I look for a man who will love me for all of me, but he is not to be found. At least not in Lucca for me.” Madalina reached up and patted Isa’s cheek. “You have your Gerardo, and it is good, yes?”
Isa smiled, her eyes lighting softly at the mention of her husband. “My Gerardo is a gift to me, Madalina, and I know in my heart that he loves me very much, as I love him. But even true love is hard work if it is to last forever. There are days I think perhaps if I get old or if I cannot give him a son soon, maybe he will slip away from me. It is silly to fear that way, I know. But my mother says the price of having a good thing is the possibility of its loss.”
Silence the color of shared sentiments settled around us. Finally, Madalina whispered, “Perhaps because I am willing to work hard for it, there is still true love for me one day. I will wait and ask God for patience.”
The ache of a broken heart seeped out in her words and resonated deep inside of me. I felt tears welling and blinked rapidly.
So perhaps she and Paulo weren’t so serious about each other. She called him ‘my love’ and kissed him like she meant it… maybe they were more like friends with benefits. But that didn’t make sense either. Madalina had made it clear when I’d first met her that she had high expectations of a man. And from what I could tell, Paulo didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be okay with something so shallow either.
But then again, I was no judge of character, was I? I had thought Jacob was the most wonderful man in the world. Look what a creep he turned out to be. And now here I was, considering a holiday romance with a man who wanted
to know all about the job I had waiting for me back home. Whatever was between us would end before it had time to really get started, according to my plane ticket back to California.
Who was I kidding? There was no way I would come out of this thing with Cosimo unscathed. There was no such thing as a holiday romance with a happy ending. Maybe there was no such thing as a happy ending at all, if the twinge of sadness in Isa’s eyes at the mention of a son meant anything.
I reached out and took one of Madalina’s hands in mine, lacing fingers with her. Three women from completely different walks of life, all yearning for the same thing; just to love and be loved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“And you, Ani? Tell me why a young lady like you comes alone to Italy?” Isa continued to casually stroke Madalina’s hair, but both sets of dark eyes fixed on me.
I shifted a little, unsure of how much I wanted to share with my new friends, and in so doing, how much I wanted to relive. I didn’t really fear them gossiping about me, at least not maliciously like my classmates had back home. My presence, I had no doubt, had been the number one topic of conversation in the Lazzaro household since the day I’d set my broken foot in Isa’s capable hands. And Madalina coming today, along with Paulo and his extraordinary gift, was evidence that the two of them had shared at least a few discussions about my well-being. No, I was simply finding it difficult to change my mindset about every part of my getaway. I’d come to Italy to leave the past behind, at least for a few weeks, to lose myself so that I could find myself again, to escape the daily reminders of my painful future without Jacob. Did I really want to give him one more moment of my time here?
Plucking at the hem of my sweater, I turned to study the shaft of light still pouring in my window and imagined the sun was hoping for one more dance with Madalina. Muted sounds of the soccer game came in deep-voiced gusts from the other end of the house, the men cheering over some play made. A woman called out a question and was met with a volley of raised voices. Apparently, Claudia was a soccer fan as well.
All the Way to Heaven Page 13
