The Good Left Undone(104)

As she climbed the front steps of Villa Cabrelli, she had a strange feeling. Domenica stopped on the landing and looked into the window where her sleeping cot had been placed when she was a girl. She remembered the night Silvio Birtolini came to see her before leaving the village for good. Domenica shivered at the thought of his kiss but blamed it on the cold night air. She went inside and called out for her daughter.



* * *





“Add a plate for Christmas dinner,” Cabrelli said to his wife as he threw a log into the fire and stoked it.

“There’s plenty to eat.” Netta crumbled fresh sage over the loin of pork that browned in the pan. “What straggler did you pick up this time?”

“I think you’ll remember him. He went to school with Domenica.”

“Stop right there! You didn’t invite il bastardo did you? I heard he was around. I saw Signora Pipino at the fish market.”

“Signora is correct. Silvio Birtolini has returned to Viareggio and is lodging in her hotel. In a few short years, he’ll be forty years old. I think we can stop calling him il bastardo.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t one.”

“He grew up, got his training, and he’s excellent. I hired him.”

“In our shop? You can’t be serious.”

“He’s presentable. Silvio has better manners than that fancy cousin of yours from La Spezia who came to apprentice and lasted a few months until he crapped out entirely. You know who I mean, the one with the airs. He did more loafing than cutting in my shop.”

“Ignazio Senci comes about his airs honestly. He multiplied a good inheritance. He did not squander it. Let him have airs because he has the cash. Some families came out of the war with less, and some with more.”

“Nobody was better for having endured it,” Cabrelli countered.

“We have to make up for the time wasted. We lost our savings, and we earned nothing in those years. And what do you do? Hire a horrible boy with an awful reputation in a town that forgives no one.”

“I need Silvio. I can take in more commissions. He’s a fine cutter.”

“Va bene. Don’t overpay him. We have a household to run here.”

“Netta, you have become enamored of money.”

“Try to live without it. I will not be beholden to others for my supper ever again. I have nightmares about that war. Hiding and foraging and begging for scraps in the forest like the animals.”

“We never begged. We survived. Where’s your gratitude? Our house was still standing when we came home. Others were not so lucky.”

“I do not want Silvio Birtolini at my Christmas table.”

“Well, I do.”

“Have you asked your daughter how she feels about this?”

“I’m going to surprise her.”

“You’ll surprise her right out of this house. She will not be pleased.”

“They’re old friends.”

“Pietro, you are such an innocent. I’m ashamed for you.”

“I don’t want my new employee to spend Christmas alone.”

“Did you invite Isabella? She’s your employee too.”

“She has a family.”

“That she comes by honestly.”

“Netta. Enough.” Cabrelli did not raise his voice, but his tone was firm. “Silvio has paid his penance in full for a mistake that he did not make. This is a good and honest man. We have no room in this house for your prejudice. It’s Christmas. Humble yourself like the poor shepherd.”



* * *





Matelda ran into her grandmother’s kitchen, followed by Domenica. Matelda peeled off her mittens and hat. “Nonna, Signore Birtolini drove the carriage on the sand.”

“On the beach?” Netta forced a smile.

“All the way to Spiaggia della Lecciona and back,” Domenica confirmed as she collected Matelda’s coat and mittens.

“Yes, and it was so much fun.” Matelda jumped up and down. “He had bells on the bridle, and he let me shake them when he brought the horse back to Signore Giacometti. I told Signore Birtolini that we had snow in Scotland, so he said to pretend the sand was snow, and I did.”

“Let’s go, Matelda. Out of these wet clothes.” Domenica followed Matelda up the stairs.

“Hang the coat on the rod in the bathroom, please,” Netta called off to them.

Silvio stood in the doorway in his coat and hat. “Next time I hope you’ll join us on the carriage ride, Signora Cabrelli.”

Netta sniffed. “If I have the time, maybe. Thank you for taking Matelda. Children love a carriage ride at Christmas.”

“May I help with dinner?”

“The fire in the dining room is going out. The wood is stacked under the house.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Silvio closed the front door behind him.

“Good thing he didn’t take his coat off,” Cabrelli commented as he entered the kitchen. “You put him to work.”

“He’s on his best behavior. All men are models of civility at first. We’ll see how long it lasts.”

“He is a good friend to your daughter. And now your granddaughter.”