15. Matilde
Matilde
Walking the city streets alone has my belly tightening with fearful memories, but Primo won’t lose an eye because of me. Luckily, Nico is convinced his word is law and that he knows exactly where I’ll be at this hour of the day.
“Grazie a Dio,” I exhale, escaping the chilly weather and taking a seat opposite my sister at the pizza parlor. We’d agreed to meet here the night Nico forced me to move in, but she hadn’t been able to make it, texting her apologies the next day.
“Any trouble?” she asks, concerned.
“No, but I feel guilty. I have never done this,” I admit.
“You flew across the ocean alone to a strange city, but you’ve never skipped school?”
Her incredulous expression makes me laugh, and we clasp hands. My heart still leaps every time I see her. She orders a Chicago-style deep dish for me to try, and we chat about pizza and other ordinary things until the pie arrives.
“Was everything okay the other night? I was worried when you did not show up. I wanted to come to your apartment, but Primo was being stubborn.”
“Oh yes, I’m fine. I had to clean at Mr. Barzetti’s, and he wanted to talk to me about my future plans. I don’t want to jinx it, but I’m very excited.”
“Jinx? I’m not sure of that word.”
“Like bad luck.”
“Oh, I see. Barzetti?” I repeat next, remembering Gia’s terrible husband. I didn’t like his brother or nephew either. Dante called them snakes, and Gia agreed with that. And I’m almost positive that Giacomo licked my hand instead of kissing it at my birthday party.
“Yes, I clean for them. I clean whatever houses Mrs. Esposito tells me to, but they are the most important Trio family that I serve.” I frown as Maddalena takes a long sip of her soda. “I hope this doesn’t upset you, Matilde, but I was thinking of you all last night.”
“Why would I be upset? I think of you, too,” I reply.
It’s true, but I can’t help blushing when I recall some of the other things I think of at night, things that involve my annoying, controlling employer.
“Would you like to see where our mother is buried?” Maddalena asks, softly.
My eyes glaze over, all impure thoughts involving Nico immediately banished when I murmur, “Yes, please.”
***
The cemetery isn’t far from the pizza place, and I’m quiet as we walk. Maddalena understands. “Mat and Mad,” she says, decidedly at last.
“What?”
“Call me Mad, Matilde. I could call you Mat. We should have our own thing, shouldn’t we? We’re twins.” She gives me a playful grin that lifts my spirits, and I agree.
The cemetery is old, and there’s an air of neglect hanging around it on this gray day in early December. We push through the rusty gates and tread across the brown grass to the far corner where a plain marker on the ground lists her dates of birth and death. “Her name is missing?”
“No, it’s at the top. The weeds have overtaken it.” I drop to my knees, pulling at them like I’m driven by a motor even as the sadness threatens to overtake me. Maddalena joins me, her shoulder touching mine. “I haven’t been here lately. School and work,” she explains, guiltily.
“She lives in your heart, and that is what matters.”
She smiles at my words, though I’m not sure they bring us comfort, and I can’t help feeling jealous that my sister has memories of our mother to cherish while I have only questions of what might have been. Of course, it is the same for her when it comes to our father.
“I wish I had flowers to offer. The nicest thing I own is this bracelet.” I cannot bear the thought of giving it away.
“No, you can’t leave that,” Maddalena agrees. “Someone would only steal it. It’s yours. I like the fairy.”
“She’s a wood nymph. No wings, you see. There was a book our father gave me when I was small. He would read it every night.”
“I’d like to read it, too,” Maddalena hints.
“We might find it at the library. Though I do not know where the closest library is.”
“I do. Come on. We have the whole afternoon together.”
Standing again, I hug her tightly, so happy to have found her. Home and family, my dearest wish, I have one of those things at last.
After we find a collection of fairytales that contains the story at the library, we make plans to meet as soon as we can. “I can’t skip school again when final exams are very close. I want to finish.”
“Of course. What about Saturday night?”
Considering it, I brighten when I recall that Nico and the children have dinner plans with his parents. “That would work.”
“Great. We should celebrate your upcoming graduation, our birthdays and finding each other in real style.”
“Style,” I repeat, liking how grown-up that sounds. “Yes, we should.”