Chapter Fourteen #2
“Take one every day with food. Stay hydrated. Eat well. Rest when you can.” She folds her hands. “At this stage, the most important things are nutrition, sleep, and reducing stress. I know that last one isn’t always possible, but do your best.”
She looks at Marcello when she says the stress part, and there’s something pointed in it. Not accusatory, just a doctor who knows exactly what world her patient lives in and wants the stress mitigated if possible.
“Any questions?” she asks.
“When do I come back?”
“Eight weeks. We’ll schedule it before you leave, along with the EKG and an echocardiogram.
Eight weeks is when we do the first real ultrasound, hear the heartbeat, and get a clearer picture of how things are developing.
” She stands and shakes my hand again. “As far as I can tell, you’re healthy, Elio.
Everything I see today looks excellent. This is a good start. ”
“Thank you, doctor.”
She nods to Marcello and leaves. I change back into my clothes. Marcello stands and waits by the door, saying nothing, but when I’m dressed and reach for the vitamins on the counter, his hand covers mine briefly. I look up at him.
“It’s going to be okay, Elio. I feel it in my soul.” His eyes are very serious.
“Okay.” My voice is thick. “It never occurred to me that Fabio’s heart condition might be hereditary. That’s a terrifying thought.”
“I know. But I don’t think you or the baby will be affected,” he says firmly. “I just have a feeling you’re both okay.”
Of course he can’t really know that, but I allow myself to be comforted by his certainty. It’s better than stressing out over something I can’t control, and Marcello’s confidence is soothing.
We leave the clinic, walking out into the warm morning sun. He puts his hand on the small of my back as we walk to the car, and when he smiles down at me, I feel happy and breathless. Marcello might be the only person I’ve ever truly believed I could lean on. And I need that now, more than ever.
For the first time, the future feels like something to walk toward instead of something to brace for.
****
The following week Marcello leaves for a trip. He’ll be gone four days. Something about meetings in Philadelphia with other syndicates that couldn’t be handled remotely. I miss him the minute he’s gone.
We’re in a good place now. Even though there’s a side to him that scares me, we’ve both admitted we’re in love. I now know that there’s no time limit on our love. We don’t just have three years together, we have a lifetime.
Two days after he leaves, Giulia calls while I’m eating lunch on the back porch.
“Hey tennis buddy, wanna come play with me?” Giulia asks cheerfully. “Renato is being Renato and I need to hit something with a racket.”
I laugh. “Oh, no. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, it’ll blow over. It always does,” she grouses. “But for now, I’m annoyed with my darling husband.”
“What did he do?”
“The fool spent three thousand dollars on a watch he doesn’t need. Mind you, that was the same day he chided me for buying a two-hundred dollar face cream.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“Right?” She sighs. “Anyway, I can’t deal with the double standard today. I want to go to the club and spend more of his money on cocktails and maybe something from the gift shop, just to piss him off.”
“Ouch.” I chuckle.
“Don’t feel sorry for him. He deserves it.” There’s a smile in her voice. “Please say you’ll come with me to the club.”
“When?”
“Today. This afternoon. Now.” She laughs. “Whenever you can get here.”
I have no reason not to go. Marcello is gone and his family is busy as usual.
It’s not like Ornella will miss me, that’s for sure.
Since the pregnancy I swear she dislikes me even more.
I have no idea what I did to the woman, but she definitely doesn’t approve of me.
Playing tennis definitely sounds like more fun than sitting around missing Marcello and counting the hours until he’s back.
“I’ll be there in about a half hour,” I say.
“Yay,” she says cheerfully. “Can’t wait.”
Dante takes the coast road and I watch the water flash between the buildings, bright and flat under a hazy sky. When we pull up to the club, Giulia is pacing the front steps, talking animatedly on her phone. She hangs up when she sees me, shoves the phone in her skirt pocket.
“Renato is upset that I left him at home, but that’s too bad for him. He can stay home with his obscenely expensive watches,” she says, pulling me up the steps. “He already owns twelve watches. If he buys another one I’m going to murder him.”
“Oh, dear.” I wince because her grip is painful. “I see why you’re annoyed, but I wouldn’t murder him. Marcello might not approve. I think he likes Renato.”
She laughs. “I won’t really murder him. I love him dearly. But he is annoying the crap out of me right now.”
Once we reach the courts, we warm up and then play each other for a couple of hours.
I’ve improved since the first few times I played, and even though I’m tired from the pregnancy, I do pretty well.
I’m not thinking about the mechanics anymore, no longer obsessing about the grip or the footwork.
My body has started doing it on its own.
In fact, today, I hit a couple of forehand shots that surprise both of us.
Giulia stops after the second one and just stares at me. “Elio, you’re so much better,” she says, looking like a mama hen. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Aww, thanks.” I grin. Not sucking takes a lot more effort.
My shirt is soaked and my legs are burning, but I feel alive.
Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been pretty lazy.
I’ve spent every second I can with Marcello, but since he’s gone on his trip, there was no excuse not to do something physical today.
After playing tennis, we head to the veranda since it’s basically tradition at this point. The usual gang is there already. I’ve never seen them on the tennis courts, playing golf, or near the pool. I have to wonder if they ever do anything but come here to socialize and drink.
Pasquale has his feet propped on an empty chair as he tells the group about a horrible date he went on the night before.
Costanza keeps interrupting to talk about a salsa dance lesson she had that went terribly wrong.
They keep trying to one-up each other by embellishing their stories, and I can’t help laughing.
“What do you guys think about trying a raspberry margarita today?” Giulia suggests, looking at the drink menu. “I’m craving a fruity drink.”
Costanza smiles. “Sure, I’m up for that. Man cannot live on gin alone.”
“You sure about that?” Pasquale says, holding up his empty glass. “I feel pretty fucking alive.”
Everybody laughs.
Costanza has traded her enormous sunglasses for a wide-brimmed hat that makes her look like she’s about to tour a vineyard. Tullio is conspicuously absent, apparently at home with something he’s convinced is poison oak, but that Pasquale assures me is a mosquito bite.
“What do you think, Elio? Want to try a raspberry margarita?” Giulia asks.
“Just water for me,” I say, without thinking.
“Water?” Costanza looks at me like I’ve announced I’m joining a cult. “Are you ill?”
“No.” I should have come prepared with an excuse for why I’m not drinking. That was an oversight on my part. I’m not ready to tell everyone about the baby. I haven’t been able to tell Fabio yet, and it feels wrong to tell strangers before him. “I’m not in a drinking mood. I think it’s the heat.”
“It’s not even that hot,” Pasquale observes, narrowing his eyes.
“Water just seems more refreshing.” I avoid his gaze.
Pasquale snorts derisively. “Water is for fish and labradors, not people.”
“Leave him alone,” Giulia says. “If he doesn’t want to drink he doesn’t have to.” Despite her words, she does shoot me a curious look.
The drinks come and I sip my water as they all chat about life. The late afternoon is sultry, luckily the awning throws cool shade across the table. I feel a bit drowsy from the heat, and I startle when a familiar voice speaks from behind me.
“Room for one more?” Salvatore appears at the edge of the table, tanned, silver-haired, wearing a navy linen jacket today. Everyone greets him with easy affection. He settles into a chair across from me and orders his usual small glass of red.
“Good to see you again, Elio,” he says brightly. “You look well.”
“Things are good.” I smile. Things really are good. Almost too good. It makes me nervous because I’m not used to things going smoothly. It’ll take some time to let go of my pessimistic tendencies, but I’m trying.
“Marcello isn’t with you today?” He sits back, crossing one ankle over his knee, perfectly at ease.
“He’s in Philadelphia for a meeting. He left two days ago.”
“He’s in Philadelphia?” Salvatore frowns. “I could have sworn I saw him in town last night. He was at Adriatico’s having dinner with Sandro Lucchese.”
“Last night?” I blink at him in confusion. “That’s not possible.”
“If it wasn’t Marcello, it was his twin.” Salvatore laughs.
“I… I don’t see how it could have been Marcello.” Uneasiness flutters through, but he must be mistaken. Marcello wouldn’t lie about leaving town. Why would he? And he certainly wouldn’t sneak off to go be with Sandro, right?
Salvatore’s eyes flicker as he watches me and he says quickly, “No, of course it wasn’t Marcello. You said he left two days ago, so I must be wrong. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be. I’m an old man with old eyes.”
I frown at his sudden change of heart. “You seemed pretty sure it was Marcello.”
“But I must be wrong because he’s not in town.” He sips his wine, avoiding my gaze. “As I said, my eyesight isn’t very good these days.”
Costanza says something to Salvatore and he turns to her as they converse.