The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany(92)

“Sure thing,” Lucy says without hesitation. But I remain silent. Will our aunt even be alive a year from now? Will Rico?

Poppy’s eyes hold mine until finally, I agree.

“But the novel,” I say. “You’re thinking I’ll have it finished in a year? I’m not sure it’s poss—”

“It’s possible,” she says and winks.

Lucy’s explaining the difference between a cosmetologist and a barber when Rico’s doctor approaches. “There you are!” She’s wearing her white lab coat, an iPad tucked beneath her arm. “I have good news, Mr. Krause. Your lab results remain stable. I am signing your discharge papers. Tomorrow morning, you are free to go home.”

Rico chokes up, and I can only imagine what these words mean to a man who’s spent much of his life behind a wall.

Tomorrow he will return home, to the tiny apartment he shared with Poppy. He’s healthy now, and so is she. My mission here is accomplished. But might there be a greater mission? A mission Uncle Dolphie proposed last fall?

I motion to Lucy, and she follows me over to a little flower garden, where patients’ names are memorialized in carved stepping-stones.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Lucy says. “The lovebirds need some space. Those apartment walls are pretty thin.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Uncle Vinnie really should have invested in charm school.” I shake my head. “I’m going home, Luce.”

She rears back. “No. Not yet. We’ll rent our own place, here in Ravello.”

“I’ve got to go. Just for a few days.” I fill her in on the rest of Poppy’s story, the heartbreak of baby Johanna’s death, how crossing the Atlantic with a newborn baby was too much for Poppy, resulting in a displaced affection that eventually ended in Poppy’s biggest regret.

“I will convince Nonna to come back here with me and patch things up with Poppy before . . .” I stop short of saying, Before it’s too late.





Chapter 49




Emilia

Two days later, as Monday’s dawn flirts with the horizon, Lucy and I stack our suitcases at the door. Rico focuses his old Leica camera on Lucy, Poppy, and me. “Are you sure you must leave?” he asks for at least the fifth time.

“We’re coming back, you know,” Lucy says, making a face at the camera. “As soon as I break my parents’ hearts and Em finds someone to rent Emville.”

We haven’t revealed the plan to bring Nonna back here for a final sister reunion. The odds are too slim to get anyone’s hopes up.

“Safe travels,” Poppy says, tucking a penny into each of our purses. “Remember to spread your sunshine. Never underestimate the importance of your light to someone living in a bank of clouds.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Lucy says. “We’ll be back in a flash.” She looks at Aunt Poppy and winks. “So, you might want to take advantage of your alone time. Just saying.”

Poppy laughs and grabs her in a hug. “Luciana, you slay me!” She looks at me, her face growing serious. “You’ll talk to Rosa? Tell her I’m sorry?”

I kiss her cheek. “Absolutely.”

Rico opens his arms to me. Though he’s certainly stronger than he was, he’s still too thin.

“Auf Wiedersehen, meine sch?ne Enkelin,” he says to me in his native language. He pulls back, his eyes misty, and strokes my cheek with his hand. In his gravelly voice, he whispers, “Ich liebe dich.”

I don’t need to translate the German words. His eyes tell me everything I need to know. “I love you, too,” I say.

Lucy and I walk to the end of the street, where a lone taxi idles. The driver leans against the hood, smoking a cigarette. He flicks it onto the pavement when he sees us and pops the trunk. While Lucy helps load our bags, I turn back to the little pink bakery. Poppy and Rico stand at the courtyard gate, the first hint of dawn drenching them in lilac. I wave a final good-bye.

“I love you,” I call, hoping they hear me.

Rico’s arm is draped around Poppy’s shoulders, and she’s dabbing her eyes. He leans in and, ever so gently, kisses her cheek. He says something, and even from here, I can hear her laughter.

Love, in any of its forms, takes the world from a bleak pencil sketch to a magnificent oil painting.



* * *





The flight to New York is full. I stuff my purse beneath the seat in front of me, still reeling with thoughts of my aunt and Rico. What a privilege it has been, witnessing their love. Will I ever have that kind of connection?

I rub my throat, and one man appears in my mind. One man who loves me, who’d wait for me while I finish my duties in Italy, no matter how long it might take. One man who makes me laugh, who cheers me on, who makes me a better person. One man who I know, without a doubt, would gladly be a character in my final chapter, when I’m old and ill and fading to gray.

I reach for my phone. On my way home, MC. I take a deep breath. Let’s talk.

My future with Matt comes alive in my mind. Once Poppy is gone, I’ll return to the States. Bensonhurst will be my world. Forever. Despite myself, a wave of loneliness rolls over me. My little life, working at the bakery, watching Netflix with Matt, seems stifling now. But that’s natural after being on an adventure, I assure myself. I’ll adjust again. Before long, it’ll be like I never left.