The Good Left Undone(40)

“Guido Mironi, you have been a brute all your life,” Domenica said evenly. “You pulled your nonsense in the shadows so as not to get caught. But you and I know what you’ve done. You grew up to be a drunk: the fate of all cowards who cannot face themselves.”

“You told my wife to leave our bed. You go against the natural law. Against the Church. Stay out of my business, Cabrelli.”

The opening fireworks shot into the sky with a loud whistle until they found their highest peak and exploded in a shower of hot blossoms in the night sky. The whistle, boom, and shatter sounds of the fireworks drowned out anything further Mironi had to say.

Mironi’s gang pulled him off the boardwalk back onto the beach. Domenica turned her back on the spectacle. She walked home under the showers of light, whereas in years past, she had stood on the beach and reveled in their beauty. She did not show it, but she was afraid. Whenever there was a fight at school, at the bottom of the pile was a hot-tempered Mironi. That had not changed since they were children. But something had shifted for Domenica during the altercation. For the first time in her life, Viareggio did not feel like home. The locals had lost respect for Domenica somehow or were angry that she had the temerity to take a stand, or perhaps it was something worse: they sided with Mironi and wanted the young nurse to know her place in the long shadow of the Holy Roman Church.





CHAPTER 15



Domenica had never seen Pretucci angry. She had made mistakes for sure, but he was usually patient as she found a solution.

The shades in the office were pulled so far down over the sash, no light came in. The lamp over the examination table made a ring of light on the marble that looked like the moon. Domenica stood on one side of the table. Pretucci paced on the other. The doctor raised his voice for the first time to her: “You cannot give medical advice that goes against the Church.”

“I was not speaking out against the Church, I was trying to help Signora Mironi. She cannot keep having babies; she has weak blood.”

“That’s not your concern.”

“She came to me for help. The Church doesn’t seem concerned about the three children who are already born. Who will take care of them when their mother dies in childbirth? I’ve yet to see Don Giuseppe pushing a pram.”

“Signorina!”

“It’s the truth. Why does Monica’s fathead husband make the decisions when it comes to the children? Isn’t holding the purse, the property, the rights to the children, and any inheritance enough? Why does he also have a say over her health?”

“I made it clear she should not have another child. To Mironi, the priest, and the mayor.”

“Il sindaco? What business is it of his?”

“The law.”

“Bassini is a buffoon.”

“It doesn’t matter. He holds the law of this village in his tiny hands.”

“Three men against one woman? Her weak blood is a medical concern, is it not?”

Pretucci remained frustrated. “Yes, it is.”

“So tell them. Tell them the situation. Explain it to those dunces. Give them the pamphlets!”

“The pamphlets are for the sailors who dock here. We don’t want them spreading disease up and down the shore. I don’t give those pamphlets out to married couples.”

“You should! Those pamphlets can help women take care of themselves.”

“You humiliated Guido Mironi in a public forum.”

“Carnevale is not a forum, it’s an amusement. He was drunk.”

“It doesn’t matter! He is the head of his family!”

“He shouldn’t be.”

“But he is! His wife is his business.”

“She was afraid to tell him about the birth control. I could tell.”

“The solution to their family issues was not to teach the woman birth control. That falls outside your role as a nurse.”

“How? If I have learned something in school, am I not to apply it?”

“You can apply it, but you need to understand the scope of what you are saying to a patient.”

“I shouldn’t tell the truth?”

“You could leave that to me.”

“But you leave the women to me. I recommended, with your approval, a tincture of black cohosh to Signora Luccizi, who is going through the change of life. How is giving a mother of three a pamphlet going to hurt her?”

“In this instance, and you must listen to me, it’s because your honesty has become a problem. Signore Mironi went to the priest, who came to me. He demands your license.”

“He has no right in the matter.”

“The priest supports Mironi’s position. And so does the law. We have to be careful in the area of reproduction.”

Domenica felt a rage rise within her. “I have to be careful because I’m a woman.” She sat down on the stool next to the examining table and tried to think.

Pretucci leaned on the table. “I’m afraid they’re serious.”

“I will go and see the priest myself and explain.”

“Don’t. He’s angry. I can protect you if you leave Viareggio. I will be able to argue that I sent you away to teach you a lesson. There’s a hospital in Marseille.”

“France? My mother needs me here.”