The Good Left Undone(106)

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean to make it sound so sad. There’s more joy in my life than grief. I loved being John’s wife. When I look back, there is nothing like the feeling of being responsible for someone else’s heart. It was one of the great gifts of my life.”

They walked through the dark winter night hand in hand. Neither would remember how many times they walked up and down the stretch of the boardwalk lit by pools of blue light. They found themselves at the end of the pier that reached out into the ocean like a black evening glove. Silvio reached for her. She put her arms around his neck.

“I don’t mind that you loved him first,” Silvio said.

“I loved John McVicars,” Domenica said quietly, “but I didn’t love him first.”

“There was someone else?” Silvio’s voice caught.

“I knew a boy in school. I used to boss him around.”

“Is that all you remember about him?”

“He was funny. He was strong. He needed me.”

Silvio held Domenica tightly until her feet left the ground as he lifted her to kiss her ear, her neck, and her cheek. The warmth of his touch in the cold night air made her feel that she belonged, something she hadn’t felt since John died. Domenica rested her face on Silvio’s shoulder; his neck had the scent of sweet pine, like the forest above the village at the end of summer. When they were children, they hiked those trails, drank from the stream, and sat under the shade of the trees, eating bread and butter. Silvio Birtolini was an important part of her childhood. His friendship was the beginning of a lifelong love that would heal her.

Silvio had spent years hoping Domenica Cabrelli would wait for him. The daydream took on different aspects as he grew older, but the end of the story was always the same. She would love him as he loved her. When Silvio’s lips found hers again, the sweetness remembered from a night long ago filled him with desire. He had not forgotten her; in fact, he had spent his life holding on to the feelings of that first kiss goodbye. As he kissed her face, he tasted her tears, which reminded him of the salty waves of the sea. Domenica had returned to him from the same sea that had kept them apart.

“I have a secret,” he whispered as he took her face into his hands. “I came back because of you.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

“I didn’t.” His eyes scanned the beach behind them. “This is the place of my deepest pain and highest dream. Both live in me, but I’ve learned that the love is greater than any hurt.”



* * *





Domenica sat in the dark in her bedroom. Matelda and her parents were asleep. She couldn’t rest—her mind was on fire after walking with Silvio. His kiss still made her tremble. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid or jubilant. Domenica’s heart raced with the revelation that she had found love again. How could this have happened? Two great loves in a lifetime when one love is not guaranteed.

Domenica pulled her jewelry case from the dresser drawer and carried it downstairs to the parlor. The fire was dying, orange embers twinkling in the grate above the powdery ash. She turned on the reading lamp. She sat for a while with the velvet box on her lap before opening it. She lifted the watch John had given her for their engagement. She hadn’t worn it or wound it since he died. She held the cool green stone in her hand, turned it over, and ran her finger over the engraved initials. She was five years older now and had taken to wearing a wristwatch after the war. The watch fob had become too heavy to wear on her nurse’s uniform. It was of another time.

Domenica sorted through the religious medals that represented the sacraments she had taken in her youth. Her wedding band from Mattiuzzi’s Jewelers lay at the bottom of the box. She twisted the gold band between her thumb and forefinger. The gold was smooth and held the same shine it had when it was first placed on her hand. There were no nicks, scratches, or dents on the gold because the metal had never been tested.

Domenica put the ring back in the box. She would save it for Matelda.

Domenica wanted Matelda to know the father she had never met, but she didn’t know how to keep his memory alive without the pain. As a nurse, she trusted the power of healing, but as a woman, she wasn’t so sure.





CHAPTER 36


Viareggio


NOW


Open the windows, Anina.” Matelda was propped up in her bed.

“I don’t think the night air is good for you, Nonna.”

“Do you want me to sleep? I can’t sleep without fresh air.”

Anina did as she was told. She slipped her shoes off and sat at the bottom of Matelda’s bed.

“What’s the matter, Anina?”

“I’m thinking about the Mattiuzzi family.”

“It wasn’t all tragic. Piccolo married Margaret Mary. My mother stayed in touch with them. They were the last link to that time in her life. And then there was Savattini the ma?tre d’.”

“Did he die on the ship?”

“He survived. By clinging to a tabletop from a stateroom. He broke his leg when he jumped, but he didn’t know it until he was rescued. He was placed in a hospital in Liverpool, where he hatched a scheme to escape back to London instead of getting onboard another ship as a prisoner. The plot worked. They hid him in the kitchen at the Savoy until the war ended. When the Mattiuzzis went to London on their honeymoon, they had tea at the Savoy. Piccolo thought he saw a ghost when he saw Savattini cross the dining room in his tuxedo. They had quite a reunion.”