Chapter 92 Loretta
L ORETTA
Loretta steps out of the hospital a little over forty hours after Alberto was admitted. His drip and catheter were removed this morning when he was transferred from the ICU to the same ward as Signore Dawson.
She was shocked at how emotional she felt seeing the red marks around poor Signore Dawson’s neck. Even though she’d heard what happened from Rocco, listening to Gayle’s recap was heart-wrenching.
Once Alberto was settled in the new hospital room, Marina went home. There’s something different about the way Marina’s holding herself today, as if she’s no longer afraid. Loretta’s pride in her daughter knows no bounds.
Loretta stayed by Alberto’s bedside until the physiotherapist came to take him for his first walk, which he managed while serenading the young man with a Julio Iglesias number, no less.
Now she’s on her way home to shower and change before returning to the hospital. She’s not in a rush because for once she’s not needed at the hotel. Today is the first time in its history that Il Cuore is closed. The guests have all moved to new accommodation. San Marco’s neighbouring hotels came to the rescue; the Venetian community knows how to rally. Alberto’s coming home later in the week, and she smiles, remembering his face when she told him she was ready to start the process of handing over the running of the restaurant to Rocco.
‘We’ll have a good life together, Loretta,’ Alberto promised her.
‘I know we will.’
‘As long as you don’t go around kissing any more nuns.’ He winked.
And just like that, she was forgiven.
What’s surprising to her is that she has none of the panic she imagined would consume her at the idea of cutting back on work. All she feels is freedom. Glorious, liberating freedom. No more early morning alarms, no more scarfing down her lunch so she can rush back into the kitchen, no more debilitating fatigue and aches and pains all over her body from working it too hard.
Rocco told her last night that Sophie desperately wants to stay on at the hotel as a cook. In Sophie she has a woman she trusts, and whose passion for food rivals her own, to pass on her recipes to. And a son who loves that woman and will support her in the restaurant as much as he can. They’ll make a formidable team, and Rocco’s already put out feelers for extra staff to ease the load on them all. The future of Il Cuore is in good hands. Her nonna would be proud of her legacy.
Loretta holds her face up to the afternoon sun and shuts her eyes, feeling its winter warmth on her skin. The flood waters have drained, the boardwalks have been taken away and the ground is dry once more.
She walks past the beautiful gothic architecture of the palace and past the clock tower towards the basilica. Today, the crowds are back in Piazza San Marco and the square is decorated for La Befana tomorrow. A big wooden witch hangs from the lion statue near the basilica, flocked by tourists taking photos of it. The hawkers have set up stalls throughout the piazza, selling gaudy merchandise of witches, everything from helium balloons to cheap sweaters. Venice is abuzz and it warms her heart to see it. She’s been ravaged, this magical city, facing every kind of adversary over her time: invasions, wars, plagues, environmental brutalising, and still here she stands. Beaten, battered, but standing nonetheless.
Loretta has stayed away from the piazza since her viral photo at the tank. Today, the tank is empty; Magdalena’s gone. Floating in the dirty water is her white dress. The ‘ affogando ’ sign in front of the tank has been replaced. The new sign reads ‘ fai qualcosa ’. Do something.
This morning the Prime Minister made an impassioned speech, vowing to hurry along the opening of the Mose Project, put an end to the big ships coming into port, limit the number of daily tourists to Venice and impose a tourist tax. He’s even vowed to replace Venice’s fuel-guzzling fleet of vaporettos with electric-powered ones.
All of these promises so soon after Loretta’s photo went viral can’t be coincidental. She knows, deep in her soul, that her tears weren’t in vain. Those tears will help save Venice.
I did something, Magdalena.
Tomorrow is the big protest that Rocco and Salvatore are taking part in. Their sabotage of La Regata will undoubtedly garner even more worldwide attention for the cause. The Prime Minister and his government will have to follow through on the new promises or face scorn and ridicule from around the globe. Italians are proud people; they do not care for scorn and ridicule.
Turning away from the tank, Loretta walks across the piazza, past the orchestra playing Bach outside Florian, where the people are happy to pay a small fortune for a coffee just to feel a part of the wonder that is Venice.