The Shoemaker's Wife(36)

“What are they saying?” Domenica asked.

“They’re talking about Eduardo. Don Gregorio is taking full credit for Eduardo’s admission into the seminary.”

“Really? He applied months ago with Sister Ercolina’s recommendation.”

Sister Ercolina folded her hands on her lap. Don Gregorio tore a bit of bread from the loaf and sopped up gravy, made with butter, red wine, and mushrooms.

“And the other one?” He bit the bread and chewed.

“They are willing to take Ciro at the workhouse in Parma.”

“Good.”

“But we need a little help from you.”

“What do you need?” he asked grudgingly. He picked up his glass of wine and sipped it.

“We need one hundred lire.”

“What!” Don Gregorio placed his wineglass on the table.

“There is usually a waiting period at the workhouse, and they are willing to waive it, but we have to pay them for the privilege. I told them the matter was urgent, and that you want Ciro off the mountain as soon as possible—”

“I do,” Don Gregorio said defiantly.

“They won’t take him without it. I need the money tonight.”

Don Gregorio eyed her suspiciously.

“Father, you asked me to make the arrangements quickly, and I was not to question you,” Sister Ercolina pressed. “I have done as you have asked.”

“Yes, of course, we must do what’s right for San Nicola.”

Sister Teresa and Sister Domenica entered to clear the plates. Sister Domenica carried a silver tray with a dish of baked custard for dessert.

“If you don’t mind, I am going to skip dessert tonight,” he said. “Sister Teresa, I need to speak to you alone.”

Sister Teresa looked at Sister Ercolina nervously.

The older nuns nodded and retreated into the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

“Did you get the money?” Sister Domenica whispered frantically.

Sister Ercolina nodded. “He said he would give it to me. I hope that Sister Teresa corroborates what I’ve told him.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s as smooth as custard.” Sister Domenica lifted a spoon and ate Don Gregorio’s dessert.

In the dining room, Sister Teresa stood in front of Don Gregorio. She folded her hands and stared straight ahead.

“Sister Teresa, I would like to know why you went to Signora Martocci about their daughter.”

“I was concerned, Father.”

“You believed the little story that the Lazzari boy was spreading about me?”

“He has been at the convent since he was a boy, Father, and I’ve never known him to be dishonest.”

“He’s a liar,” Don Gregorio said.

“Father, if you’re trying to upset me, or cause me to doubt my own instincts, you won’t succeed.”

“You upset the Martocci family and caused them great distress. The sin of envy has swept through this village. Or perhaps it is you who has embarked upon an inappropriate relationship?”

“I assure you that is not the case. He’s like a son to me.” Sister Teresa raised her voice defensively.

“I would call that an inappropriate relationship. You’re a nun, not his mother. Had I been the priest here when their mother dropped them off, I wouldn’t have allowed them to stay. You’re not running an orphanage over there.”

“We minister to the poor in whatever capacity they need us.”

“You’re here to service the church, Sister Teresa. Now go and send in Sister Ercolina.”

Trembling with rage, Sister Teresa bowed and exited to the kitchen.

In a moment, Sister Ercolina stood at the table, facing Don Gregorio.

“I want you to transfer Sister Teresa from our parish.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Sister Ercolina was firm and clear—she had done enough horse trading for one night. “Sister Teresa is a good nun, and an excellent cook. I think you might remember when Sister Beatrice was the cook. We practically starved.”

“Have someone else deliver my meals, then.” Don Gregorio checked his watch.

“Of course, Father.” Sister Ercolina was relieved to have saved Teresa. “But first, I need the one hundred lire,” she said placidly.

“Oh, yes.” Don Gregorio didn’t make a move.

“I’ll wait.”

Don Gregorio got up and went out the door to the living room. Sister Ercolina reached down into her habit pocket and gripped her rosary. She bowed her head and prayed. After a few minutes, Don Gregorio returned.

“Here.” He handed Sister Ercolina the money. “But it’s an enormous amount. You’ve been taken advantage of.”

“You gave me an urgent command, Don Gregorio. Perhaps you would prefer that Ciro—”

“No,” he snapped. “It’s a small price to pay to clean up this village.”

Sister Ercolina put the money in her pocket. “Good night, Don Gregorio,” she said, and went.

As Sister Ercolina joined her friends in the kitchen, she placed her fingers over her lips, smiling. The nuns lifted the trays and extinguished the oil lamp. Sister Ercolina opened the door and showed the sisters out.

That night, the sisters of San Nicola filed into their pews in the convent chapel. Ciro and Eduardo joined them, taking seats behind them. Sister Ercolina entered from the sacristy. She closed the door and faced them.