The Good Left Undone(36)
“She doesn’t?”
“She doesn’t even have an account.”
“You’re not married?” Silvio took a step back and looked at her.
“I have a profession. I’m a nurse. I work for Dottore Pretucci.”
“Is he still alive?”
“He was close to our age when he sewed you up. He helped me become a nurse.”
“But that doesn’t explain why you’re not married. Are you a nun?”
“Does this look like a habit?”
“You could be a Sister of the Tarantella.”
Domenica laughed. “How about you? Are you married?”
“Betrothed.”
Domenica looked around the pier, happy to have something to do to hide her disappointment. “Where is she? I’d like to meet her.”
“She’s in Parma.”
“When are you getting married?”
“This summer.”
“Congratulations. You deserve happiness.”
“You’re the only person that thought so. Well, that’s not exactly true. You and my mother.”
The bandleader blew the whistle to summon the dancers to the stage.
“I have to go. Will you wait for me?”
“I’m sorry. I have to meet my friends for the drive back to Parma.”
Domenica couldn’t hide her disappointment. “That’s too bad. So much more to talk about.” She bit her lip. “All this time I’ve been praying for you. Take care of yourself.”
Domenica turned to the stage to join the dancers when Silvio took her hand. “Before you go”—he leaned down and whispered in her ear—“did you ever find the buried treasure?”
The band began to play. The dancers moved across the floor without Domenica.
“I never found it.”
“That’s too bad. I have a reminder every morning when I look in the mirror.” Silvio moved the lock of hair that had fallen across his face, revealing the scar over his eyebrow. The black arch was staccatoed with tiny pink dots where the stitches had been.
Domenica leaned closely to Silvio’s face to examine the scar. She touched the outline of the arch gently with her finger. She was close to his mouth, her finger tracing the outline of his face to his lips.
“Domenica,” he whispered. His lips grazed her cheek.
“You can barely see the scar. It healed beautifully. You made a wise choice. I wanted to sew you up and you wouldn’t let me.”
Silvio laughed. “But I took your advice about the olive oil. Looks less like a gash, thanks to you.”
“Now that I don’t remember.”
“That’s all right, because I do.” Silvio took her hand. “I remember everything.”
“Remember your fiancée in Parma.” She let go of his hand. “Where do you work?”
“I’m an apprentice to Leo DeNunzio, a master gem cutter in Torino. I was lucky he took me on.”
“Papa will be pleased that you took up the trade.”
“How is your father?”
“He works hard and my mother pushes him to work harder.”
“Your father has a fine reputation throughout Toscana.”
“Grazie. And how is your mother?”
“She married a nice man from Firenze. A stonemason. After so long, she found happiness.”
“She deserved it too. Was he a good father to you?”
“He was gentle and fair.”
“I’m glad,” Domenica said sincerely. “Your mother is one of the finest ladies I’ve ever known.”
“I’ll tell her you said so. How is your brother?”
“The same.”
Silvio laughed. “Aldo hasn’t changed?”
“Not at all.”
“Where is he?”
“He joined the army. Maybe that will help.”
“It might make him worse.”
“That’s what Mama said!”
Mauro Cincotto came to the edge of the stage. He motioned to her. “Domenica. Box formation. We need you.” He lowered his voice. “I can’t lift Stella Spadoni.”
“Yes, you can.” Stella, tall and broad shouldered, yanked Cincotto back into formation. “And you will.”
“I lost my partner.” Domenica turned to Silvio. “Would you like to dance?”
“I’m not a good dancer.”
“Don’t let that stop you!” Ignoring his pleas to let him go, Domenica pulled Silvio onto the dance floor. “Come on. You’re a native! Follow me,” she commanded. She took Silvio’s hands in hers and placed them on her hips. She put her hands on his shoulders. “Now count.” She patiently taught him the box step until he was comfortable with the footwork. “We add the skip.” Silvio skipped in time to the music. “Well done. Now, move!” Domenica instructed.
“I thought we were.”
“Like this.” Domenica led Silvio until he took the lead and reversed their movements. She laughed while he concentrated on his feet.
Silvio and Domenica took a skipping tour around the dance floor until they reached the edge of the stage. Instead of pivoting, Silvio lifted Domenica and swung her around before placing her on the ground. A smattering of appreciative applause was heard from the tables where the old people sat with a view of the stage.