Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

FRANCESCA

F RANCESCA

Listlessly, I wheel my luggage out of baggage claim and head towards the arrivals hall as my eyes scan the crowd for Giuseppe’s face. Nonna Isadora told me that she would send him to the airport to pick me up when I arrived. There are many faces but no Giuseppe. I stop walking and reach into my bag for my phone.

When Nonna Isadora first invited me to come and stay with her for a while I refused. I was grieving for my lost child and the shocking and abrupt destruction of my relationship with Valentino. I was too brokenhearted to even think of travelling anywhere. Even though Mama and Louisa counselled me until they were blue in the face that I was not to blame. It was the attack that killed my baby. If not when they did it, one way or another they would have found another opportunity.

It was not my fault.

It was not my fault.

It was the attack.

They drummed it over and over into my head, but I couldn’t stop blaming myself. At night when I was alone the terrible accusatory thoughts returned. If only I had not felt the need to tell Thomas face to face that I knew he was a liar and had been lying to me all those years. If only I had been wise enough to know the satisfaction of seeing his face crumble was just not worth it and instead, I’d told him over the phone. If only I had not picked up the phone at all. If only… If only… If only…

I was driving myself mad with sorrow and regret. Alone, I tossed and turned. And when I finally fell into an exhausted sleep, I dreamed of Valentino carrying our baby. I dreamed of him laughing. In my dream he was happy, I was happy. Then I woke up and understood it was only a dream and sadness returned. There was no escape. And once again I was forced to confront what I had done.

Not only had I killed my baby, I had finally killed Valentino’s feelings for me. Whatever little shoots of feelings that had been growing in his heart I had killed them stone dead. The way he looked at me that time I went to his house…

Alone in the darkness, I shuddered.

Day after day it was the same until my mother had had enough. She said I was flitting about the house like an undernourished ghost, and she couldn’t bear to see my pale miserable face for another minute. She ordered me to take up Nonna Isadora’s invitation. She said the invitation was not made lightly and it would be churlish and ungrateful to reject the kind gesture. She said it would be good for me to recover in the countryside. Some fresh air and sunshine was what I needed.

Part of me still doesn’t like the idea. I look upon Valentino’s family as an extension of him and my association with them will be a kind of imposition considering how he now feels about me, but my mother is an immovable rock once she makes up her mind. So I agree. I’m only staying a few days, and then I will return to New York.

“Francesca?”

I look up from rummaging inside my bag for my phone to see Federico standing a few feet away. My heart instantly drops and I almost run back through the doors I had just emerged from. Nonna Isadora said Giuseppe was coming; why am I looking at Federico?

He flashes me a small smile before closing the distance between us, holding out his hand.

“Hey.”

I stare at his hand for a long moment until he drops it with an embarrassed smile. “Of course, you don’t want to shake my hand. I understand. I wouldn’t if I was in your shoes.”

“Where’s Giuseppe?” I ask coldly.

“I’m here to pick you up.”

“I was told Giuseppe was.”

“He was,” he says. “But I convinced him to let me.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Please, Francesca. I want to make up for what I did. I’m really, really sorry.”

After another awkward silence, he grabs my luggage. “Please, come with me. I’m parked over there.”

I follow him reluctantly towards the exit and to a black jeep parked outside the terminal. He puts my luggage into the trunk before opening the door for me. A few minutes later, we’re pulling away from the airport.

I sit stiff and resentful in my seat. I knew this was a bad idea and it is turning out to be so. How dare Federico turn up to pick me up? I wish I had refused to follow him and taken a taxi instead. I turn my head and stare out of the window and try to take my mind off Federico and appreciate the beautiful scenery outside. Italy is a wonderful place, but I can’t appreciate it properly in this mood.

“I’m so sorry, Francesca.”

At Federico’s soft apology I turn my head in his direction. “Stop it, please. I am really not in the mood to rehash anything.”

“I just want you to know how truly sorry I am. I’m so sorry. I was so jealous and I was so angry with Valentino that I just wanted to ruin things for him. I didn’t think of how I would be hurting you,” he says in a rush like he’s been waiting for this moment. “I’m ready to do anything to prove how sorry I really am.”

“Isn’t it funny how people do the most outrageous things and then claim they’re sorry afterwards? It doesn’t fix anything. And by the way, there’s no need for an apology. Valentino and I are getting divorced.”

Federico laughs, and I frown. “Yeah, I see how sorry you are. This is what you’ve always wanted,’ isn’t it?”

“Maybe in the beginning, it was what I wanted,” he says. “But not anymore. You and Valentino were made for each other. The reason I was laughing was because it is such a Valentino thing to do. You will not be getting a divorce. You’ll find each other again, you’ll see.” We turn into Nonna Isadora’s drive and the ancient Castillo comes into view. The last time I was here was with Valentino. The sense of loss is so acute as it is physical. I hold my stomach to stem the pain.

“And I’m really sorry about the baby,” Federico says quietly.

“Thank you. How is Matteo?” I ask to quickly change the direction of the conversation.

“He’s talking now. He’s still not completely better, but he’s talking, eating, and basically recovering.”

I don’t feel any iota of relief or joy at the news. Of the brothers, only Roberto has impressed me with his sincerity.

Moments later, Federico leads me up the steps towards Nonna Isadora’s reception rooms. He stops in front of Nonna Isadora’s door. “I can’t go in with you,” he says. “Or she will have my head. But I’ll drop this off in your room. When Nonna is done with you, someone will show you where it is.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No. Thank you.” He nods and disappears around the corner.

I take a deep breath, then knock and walk through the door. There’s only one servant inside the room, and she’s cleaning the dresser while Nonna Isadora is sitting on her wooden throne with an old leather book clasped in her hands.

“Francesca,” she says softly. “I should have known Giuseppe could never say no to his brother. I’m sorry you had to start your little relaxing break by seeing him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“It does matter. I will make sure he knows I am furious with him.”

“No, don’t please. The last thing I want to do is cause problems here too.”

She holds out her arm, and despite my reservations, I go towards her and kiss her veiled cheeks.

“Oh, my sweet child. I’m so sorry you lost your baby.”

There’s something so soft and kind about her usually stern voice that I immediately burst into tears. Her tiny claw-like hands reach out and brush away the tears from my face.

“It’s okay, little one, it’s okay,” she croons softly. “You are young and I prophesize that you will have so many children they will drive you mad and you will look up to the heavens and beg God to stop with the babies.”

I smile through my tears. “I don’t think I will ever stop feeling sad, Nonna Isadora. I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for losing my child.”

“When I lost my baby at four months, I didn’t get out of bed or bathe for a whole month.”

“You lost your baby?” I ask, astonished.

“Several,” she says quietly. “In those days it was easy to lose your baby.”

I suddenly feel like such a child for crying in her presence. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“The only words of comfort I can give you are, you will continue to wonder about this lost child for the rest of your life, but the pain does get better.”

I nod. “Yes, my mother says the same.”

“Why don’t you sit down, dear child? Would you like some sweets?” she gestures to the low table in front of her that is full of platters of Italian desserts. “Or perhaps you would like to have something to drink?”

“No, nothing. I will have a shower and go for a long walk.”

“Yes, do that. The land is very healing.”

“Have you seen Valentino?” I blurt out suddenly. I couldn’t stop the words from erupting from my mouth. From the moment I stepped on Italian soil they were there waiting to come out.

“No,” she smiles softly. “He is … what do you Americans say? Like a bear with a sore head.”

“I miss him so much, but he refuses to see me.”

She sighs. “Valentino is my most stubborn great-grandchild,” she says with a smile. “People think it’s Rico. Others think it’s Matteo. No one suspects Valentino because he’s not noisy or chaotic about his stubbornness. Once he makes up his mind it is impossible to move him.”

“So what can I do?” I cry. “I can’t just walk away.”

“You don’t need to do anything, my dear. He is in love with you. When he is done being angry he will come to you.”

“He is not in love with me and he won’t come to me,” I say immediately. “I’m sure you must know that he married me so he could have that cursed piece of land.”

Nonna Isadora smiles. “Even if he has alienated us right now, he is my beloved great-grandson, my favorite. I’ve cared for him since he was an infant so I know him like I know the back of my hand. He did not marry you to get his hands on a piece of land. Only someone who does not know him could think that. He married you because he had fallen in love with you.”

I stare at her, astonished. “How could he have fallen in love with me before he married me? I only met him once when he came to my grandfather’s study.”

“It is not my story to tell you, child. You must ask him when you next see him.”

I slump down on the chair next to Nonna and frown hard.

“I can see that you have understood nothing. Your husband is not the cruel beast you imagine him to be. He is a beautiful soul who disguises his strengths behind his supposed corruption.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will tell you everything when you come back from your walk. When you get to the open fields take your shoes off and walk on the ground in your bare feet. We’ll have dinner together at eight.”

She smiles and rises, and I realize she is the most diminutive person I have ever known. It is incredible to think that this tiny woman can sit here in her parlor and know everything that goes on with all the members of her large family.