Her brow furrows with concern over my disturbed brother. “What was wrong?”
“Problems with a girl.” I wonder what she’d think if she knew the whole story. She befriended the De Luca women as well as Cat.
The storybook beside the bed serves as a distraction. “I noticed this yesterday before our ceremony. Where did you get it?” I ask.
“It’s the story my father would read to me at bedtime. Maddalena found a copy in English. I love the illustrations. Look how she resembles the charm.”
“The Magical Wood Nymph and Her Forest Friends,” I read. It's the exact image I'd found online, the one the jeweler had used to advertise their little website.
“Will you read this to the children someday?” Her hypnotic eyes sparkle brightly as she nods. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for dinner. Didyou leave me any carrots? It’s okay if you didn’t because I brought these home instead.”
She giggles at my nonsense and then gasps when I pull the ring box out of my pants pocket. “Your eyes still shine brighter,” I admit once she opens it.
“Why do you ask about the carrots if you bring diamonds?”
A moment’s confusion, and then I’m chuckling again. “Not carrots like a rabbit eats. Carats, like for diamonds or gemstones. A play on words, you see.”
“Oh.English,”she sighs, rolling her eyes.
“You speak it very well.”
“Your children will not sound ignorant?” she asks with a pert smile.
“Ourchildren will speak flawless Italian and are lucky to have you for their mother.”
“Grazie,”she whispers. I slip the ring on her finger beside her wedding band, and satisfaction fills me, seeing further proof that she’s mine. Gently, I stroke her fingers as she continues talking. “We kept rabbits on our farm. Rabbits prefer lettuce. In the comic books I read, characters would sometimes call money lettuce. Carrots and lettuce. Diamonds and money. Did you know this?”
Laughing, I nod. “It’s an old-fashioned term, but yes.”
“I sound silly?” she asks, shyly.
“No, you’re being you. Simply enchanting. When did you read comic books? Tell me and tell me more about your day.”
She does, her honeyed accent a balm to my exhausted mind. Still kneeling at her feet, I could listen to her talk all night.
“I can speak with your sister about school if you wish,” I say after she’s mentioned one of her worries.
“No, better if I do.”
“She doesn’t like me because of Giacomo. Or does she still believe I had a role in your mother’s death?”
“We will change her mind.”
“We’ll see. Mrs. Esposito has taken an unexpected vacation, but I'll find her. The money I gave her to support Maddalena obviously didn’t go that way.”
“Or even to our mother’s grave,” Matilde adds, looking sad.
“What?”
She tells me about the day she skipped school to see her sister weeks ago after I moved her into my house and how they visited Elena’s grave together. “Are you angry?” she asks, noting my frown.
“Only at myself for putting you in a position that you thought you needed to sneak off to see her. I don’t want you wandering around the city unprotected, Matilde. It’s not safe… especially not now that you’re mine.”
We remain silent for a few minutes, her soft hand still resting on mine, before she points to the picture over the bed. “Did your first wife choose the painting or did you?”
“It’s mine. In addition to raising ten children, my grandmother was an artist.”
“Ten children?!Oh Dio,”she gasps.
