35. Sly
“Mrs. Lucchetti, please try to relax,” Vinnie’s nurse begs after she tries to get out of her hospital bed for the second time. “Your body has been through a lot today. Dehydration. A rough fall. Please, let us run our tests.”
“I’m fine,” she reiterates, being stubborn. I know she is desperate to check on her father.
“Piccola ladra, please, if not for yourself, for the baby,” I sigh, leaning forward in the chair next to her bed so I can reach to hold her hand.
Her eyes soften, and she touches her stomach.
“I’d like to get OB down here to do a transvaginal ultrasound, but right now, your vitals are looking good. You might need another bag of fluids, though, so please, Mrs. Lucchetti, relax for a bit, and I’ll be back to check on you shortly.” The nurse gives me a pointed look, then grabs her patient chart and walks out of the room.
“I know it’s the last thing you want, amore mio, but please try to rest. It’s the middle of the night, and the exhaustion is evident on your face. You need to sleep.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about the baby before you figured it out on your own,” she sighs, changing the subject as she settles into her pillow. Standing, I grab the extra blanket by her feet and open it, draping it further up her body so she can get comfortable. “I had just found out. I took a test right after we got off the phone. I’ve felt so off lately, and thought, why not? I had planned to tell you the second everyone left after dinner.” She looks down at her lap, sadness overcoming her. “But dinner never happened.”
Creasing her brow, she looks up at me again. “Have you checked in with Cecilia and Raina? I need to call them.” She pats around the bed for her phone, and I settle my hand on hers, stopping her.
“Luciano called. They are relieved, piccola ladra, and they’ll be by to see you tomorrow.”
“I’m not staying here,” she begins to argue, but I shake my head.
“You are if the doctor orders it. Please, Vincenza, just let them care for you. Let us both get peace of mind. As soon as you have the approval from your doctor, we will be out of here.”
I can tell she is not happy with my request, but after a moment, she says, “Okay,” and squeezes my hand. “I know it’s late, but please, can you see if there”s any update on my father?”
“Of course, piccola ladra. Let me see what I can find out.” Rising from my seat, I kiss her forehead. “Get some sleep,” I tell her, before walking into the hallway.
The door closes quietly behind me, and for a moment, I lean against it, closing my eyes as my chest rises and falls.
I could have lost her today. Her, and our child I now know she is growing.
A shaky breath expels from my lungs, and I rub my eyes. Stress sits heavy in my chest, the ever-present feeling that refuses to leave my body, and likely won’t until I get Vinnie home safely.
The hall of the hospital is bright despite the early morning hour, and I realize I have no idea where they took Maurizio. Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I call Luciano.
His phone rings continuously, and I’m about to hang up when he finally answers. “Hello?”
“You sound exhausted, amico.”
“You could say that.”
“Vinnie has requested an update,” I tell him as I walk further from her door toward the elevator. “What floor are you on?”
“Christ. There’s no update that I want to give to my sister right now. We’re on the third floor. In the waiting room.”
“I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, I press the elevator call button and step into it when the doors open moments later. The ride from the fourth floor down to the third is short, and when I step into the hallway, I follow the signs to the waiting room.
Upon opening the doors, I am immediately engulfed with the sadness around me.
Luciano sits next to his mother, his arm around her shoulders as she sleeps, her head leaning on him. Two dried rivers of black mascara track down her cheeks from the tears she’s shed, and there is still a tremor to her breathing, even in slumber.
Beside her, Vinnie’s youngest brother, Samuele, is asleep with his head propped in his hand. He looks uncomfortable, yet somehow content.
But Luciano is wide awake, his eyes bloodshot and dry, as he stares at me from across the room.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask quietly, taking the chair across from him.
“My brother is dead. My sister was kidnapped by said dead brother, and my father is undergoing surgery that he may or may not make it out of. So no, I can’t sleep.”
“Your sister is doing well. She’s stronger than you think she is.”
“I know exactly how strong she is,” he counters. “She’s a Paladino.”
Smirking, I shake my head. “She’s a Lucchetti now, but I suppose that just means strength runs through her both in blood and in name.”
Luciano nods his head in agreement, a far off look in his eye.
The room grows quiet, with only the low voices coming from an infomercial on the TV that hangs in the corner.
“What is the update on your father?” I ask. “You said he is in surgery?”
“He was coherent in the ambulance, and when they brought him into the emergency room, but about thirty minutes later, he began having shortness of breath, grew ghastly pale, and then he completely lost consciousness. The doctor made it into the room just as he began to crash and rushed him back for emergency surgery. They didn’t elaborate—I still don’t fully understand what is happening. I’m a lawyer, not a doctor.”
But I am, and going back for emergency surgery after a heart attack is not nothing. It typically indicates a blockage of some sort. Or worse.
I do not wish to worry him further, so I don’t press the topic more. “Can I get you anything? Would you like a coffee?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m probably going to try and get some sleep in this horribly uncomfortable chair. How’s V?”
“They’re running some tests and will observe her for several hours, but she is okay. I hope she is asleep now. Exhaustion and dehydration are the biggest causes of concern.”
“Good.”
Standing, I walk to him and squeeze his shoulder. “If you need me, just call. I am one floor above you.”
“Thanks. Tell my sister to rest.”
“Trust me, mio amico. I’m trying.”
He laughs, but the sound is distant and small.
My heart feels heavy as I leave the waiting room, knowing that I must be the one to tell Vincenza that her father is undergoing heart surgery. I can only hope that when I return to her room, she is asleep, and the update can wait until tomorrow.
Perhaps by morning, there will be better news.