“You’re still working the skies, I see?” my brother says, nodding to my necktie and pink uniform. “What happened to the money I sent you? There’s no need for you to work.”
“I used it for Angelos’ education.Besides, I love my job.”
“If you wanted extra money, you should have asked me.” Elio pauses at the door, his eyes narrowing as he looks down the corridor.
“What’s wrong?”
His jaw clenches. “Thought I saw a ghost.”
I know all about seeing ghosts today, but I don’t tell Elio that, he’d have the entire polizia searching for Dan if he knew he was in Rome.
Elio pushes the door open to Mamma’s private room. “Rosetta’s here, Mamma.” Elio swipes the grey hair from mymother’s forehead and presses a gentle kiss there. A tenderness I haven’t seen in him for years.
My shoulders curve inwards as my chest caves. On the phone, Elio had said she was in a bad way, but I never expected her to look so frail. “Mamma?”
With a shaky hand, as if using all her strength, she tugs the oxygen mask from her mouth and lets it rest beneath her chin. “La mia bella rosa.”
“I’m here, Mamma.” Tears gather in the corner of my eyes as I lift her frail hand in mine, her skin paper thin over her delicate bones.
“Elio, get me my glasses.” She pats the bed as if searching for them.
“Here you go.” Elio lifts them from the bedside table and places them on Mamma’s face.
“Ah, much better.” Mamma clasps both hands around mine as she gazes at me with a smile. Her lavender hand cream catches in my nose, the familiar scent calming me.
Elio straightens his tie. “I’ve got to make some phone calls. I’ll be back soon, Mamma. Is there anything you need?”
“A pack of cigarettes,” she says jokingly in a croaky voice.
“That’s what got you into this mess.” He frowns, then exits the room, leaving me alone with my mother.
She coughs, the sound rattling her chest as if she’s about to bring up a lung. Her fingers fumble with the remote at the side of the bed.
“Mamma, let me help you.” I walk around the bed and lift a jug of water from the bedside table, filling a plastic cup.
She presses a button on the bed, lifting her to a sitting position and takes a few sips of the water. “That’s better. How’s my grandson doing?”
I sit in the chair next to her, my chest swelling with pride. “He’s grown so much. Let me show you a picture.” Opening the cross-body bag at my waist, I pull out my phone and scroll through my gallery. One regret I have about distancingmyself from the family is that I haven’t been to visit my mother as often as I’d like. The last time she saw Angelos was three years ago at a remote villa in France that we hired.
“This was him last month at a football game.” I show her the picture of Angelos looking rather muddy after his game.
“He’s got so tall.” Her frail finger traces the outline of him on my screen.
“He’s almost as tall as me now, look.” I swipe the photo left to reveal another with the two of us together.
“Such a handsome young man.”
“Yes, he is.” A lump forms in my throat. She said the same thing about Dan when she found out I was secretly dating him. Before we found out who he really was and everything turned to shit.
Seeing him today has brought all the hurtful and bitter memories back to the surface. I loved him, but I hate him. I cannot forget what he did to me. My feelings for him are so conflicted, but regardless of how I feel, I need to keep my distance from him.
Mamma continues to scroll through my phone, looking at all my photographs. “Where is he now?”
“He’s staying at the boarding school until he’s eighteen.”
“I think it’s the best place for him. At least you know he’s safe.”
“You’re right. I just miss him terribly.” A whimsical smile spreads across my face as I gaze at images of Angelos. “He has a test today for Italian.”
