—
Ravenna was wearing hospital scrubs when she met him a few hours later at Cosimo’s pizzeria.
She apologized. “I didn’t have time to change. What’s so urgent that you couldn’t discuss it on the phone?”
Valerio searched her face—glad for those bright eyes and full cheeks, the mobile expression brimming with curiosity. He actually liked the shapeless purple nursing uniform. It seemed to express something essential about her: determination, competence, compassion.
He had a sudden fantasy of being Ravenna’s patient: this angel bustling into the room, tucking him in, and leaning over to adjust equipment; the warm fragrance of her perfume, her laugh when he reached up to caress and kiss her, pulling her down onto the bed with him. It was a ridiculous daydream that, given his dire situation, he couldn’t possibly act on yet. But it made him grin.
She returned his smile.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving. You?”
“I’m always hungry when I’m upset…or happy…or sad,” he said with a chuckle, fighting back the pain of his bruised and tender torso—and his kidneys! He was pretty sure one of his ribs was broken. It hurt to breathe. And his stomach clenched, an ache he didn’t think pizza would resolve.
Cosimo was at his shoulder.
“Ah, the beautiful Ravenna! A pleasure to see you again. This big oaf isn’t bothering you, is he?”
She laughed. “Not at all!”
Cosimo leaned in and kissed her cheeks. “If you get tired of him, you know where to find me.”
He took their orders and winked at Ravenna before hurrying away.
“What happened with Maria?” she asked. “Is that why you’re worried?”
“I’ll tell you more about that in a minute. Can you answer a few questions for me, first?”
She nodded.
“Ines Mancusi,” he said. “You’ve known her a long time. What kind of person is she?”
Ravenna’s face crinkled.
“Did you have a good mother?” she asked after some thought.
The question called Leonora to mind. Not her face—perpetually turned upwards to the Immacolata—but her hands, strong and capable, bulging at the knuckles, and always moving: chopping, stitching, scrubbing, repairing, tucking…holding.
“Yes,” he said. “A very good mother.”
Ravenna said, “That must have been nice. My mother wasn’t good. I can see that now. She must have had a very bad childhood to give me one, too. She was…difficult. And there was never enough…”
Without realizing or intending it, Valerio reached out. Her fingers were cold. He squeezed, giving her his heat.
“It’s okay,” Ravenna said. “I’m fine. Really. I survived.”
She laughed uncomfortably, then continued. “It wasn’t easy to grow up in that place, you know? When you don’t have much, kindness doesn’t come easily, does it? And I was an ugly little girl. Chubby. Nearsighted. Ines was friendly—she pulled me in, fed me, asked questions. Made me feel special, you know? Her husband died right after Gaetano was born. I was thirteen…and I started helping out.”
“Did she pay you to watch Gaetano?”
Ravenna shook her head. “She didn’t have money…none of us did!”
“Besides babysitting Gaetano, did she ever ask you to do other types of work?”
“No.”
