The Good Left Undone(73)

“You don’t have to etch both our names—just our initials would be fine. J and D. Please. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

“In that case then . . .” Mattiuzzi brought the watch fob to his son.

Piccolo whispered, “Papa, I packed the tools.”

“Unpack them. Do as the man asks.”



* * *





The rolling hills and lawns on the grounds of Notre Dame de Namur glistened in soft folds of green. The red roses that surrounded the statuary of the Blessed Mother were in bloom. Fuchsia peony buds dangled from delicate branches along the walkways, ready to burst open at any moment.

The May Day garden was in bloom with pink azaleas and blue hyacinths. The reflecting pool was dotted with lacy white lilies that floated on midnight blue water. The Sisters who prayed there called their pond a “mirror of heaven.”

John McVicars paced back and forth in front of the convent.

Sister Matelda peeked out through the curtains on the main floor. “He’s wearing a path on the lawn.”

Domenica looked out the window. “There’s something the matter with him.”

“He’s in love, that’s all.”

“You can tell from that far away, Sister?”

“You’d better go talk to him before he paces himself right into the ground and there’s nothing left but his epaulets. Haven’t you tortured him long enough?”

“Maybe.” Domenica winked at Sister Matelda. She wrapped herself with the scarf McVicars had sent and walked outside to join him.

McVicars was regal in his navy blue uniform. He remembered a high-ranking officer in the merchant navy who once said to him, “Our uniforms are so sturdy, they will hold you up when you’ve lost your courage.” McVicars was plenty scared that morning. As Domenica walked toward him, with every step she took, his heart beat faster. He believed his future was in her hands.

“The nuns are concerned about their lawn,” Domenica said.

“Is it against the rules to walk here?” McVicars asked.

Domenica had compassion for McVicars. He wasn’t his typical jocular self; ever ready with a joke or pointed remark, he seemed vulnerable. “Why are you here, John?”

He took a deep breath. “Domenica, I know I am not worthy of you.”

“Did you come all the way from Glasgow to tell me that?”

“No, I came all the way from Glasgow to ask you to marry me.”

Domenica buried her hands in her apron pockets. She hadn’t expected a proposal of marriage. She thought he had come to the convent to inquire if she would see him again. If she’d known that McVicars was going to propose that day, she would have put on her blue dress. Instead she was wearing her uniform and apron. It seemed she was never properly dressed when he had something important to say to her. Maybe that was the point. There wasn’t time for artifice; their connection was the destination, not the dance that preceded it. She weighed the idea of life without him against the commitment to him for the rest of her life. Domenica was not an impulsive woman, but she found out in this moment that she could be. She wanted him; the decision had been made the night she met him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“This isn’t how I pictured it.”

He looked around. “There’s no rain. It’s warm. I got a haircut and wore my uniform. I splashed on some cologne.”

“All that for me?” she teased him.

“If it’s not enough, tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“It’s enough, John. I’ll be happy to marry you.”

McVicars scooped Domenica up in his arms, held her close, and covered her face in tender kisses. She kissed him feverishly before sinking her face into his neck. The scent of the lemon water made her think of Italy, which made her feel torn. A marriage proposal was celebrated by the entire family in her tradition. McVicars swung her through the air, which made her laugh and forget that the circumstances of their engagement were not ideal. McVicars placed her gently on the ground and reached into his pocket. “This is for you.” He gave her a velvet jewelry box from Mattiuzzi’s.

She lifted the watch fob out of the box. It could not have been a better engagement gift. Domenica was practical. The watch was functional, but it was also elegant.

“So the jeweler told me about this stone. Aventurine, it’s called. It came from Mozambique; the gold is Argentine, he believes, and built with rubies from India. Small ones, but they’re there.”

“They sparkle. Small red tears.”

“Or raindrops. There’s a stone in this watch fob from each hemisphere. In a small way, it is bigger than the world. It’s my intention to show you the world. There are places I can’t wait to take you.”

“I want to go.”

“And it works.” John held it up to her ear. “This will be closer to your heart than a ring. I rather like this. It’s like a medal.” McVicars pinned it on her apron. “May we never run out of time.”

Domenica placed her hand over the green aventurine. “What did I do to deserve something so beautiful?”

“You said yes.”

“I would have said yes sooner.”

“Is that true? When did you fall in love with me?” he wanted to know.