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Even after he hung up the phone with his father, Massimo was still not sure. He was still not sure he could do what his father insisted. He had to try, though. That was the right thing to do, even if it was for selfish reasons.
Massimo stepped off the elevator. He didn’t feel the same urgency to get to Isotta. He really didn’t want to see her at all because all he could think about was the lack of promise.
His steps towards Isotta’s room were slow and methodical as he contemplated what his father said. I’m confident in your seed, he repeatedly heard. Massimo needed to repeat it because he needed to start believing it. Massimo needed to believe that the end result wasn’t the end result.
I’m confident in your seed.
As Massimo rested his hand on the door handle to her room, he repeated the words over and over again. He had to believe it.
“How are you, dear?” Massimo heard as he entered the room. It was a voice he faintly recognized. He knew it wasn’t Rosa’s. Stepping through the door and rounding the corner, who spoke came into view. Massimo continued to advance until he stood at the foot of Isotta’s bed.
“I’m doing okay, grandmother,” Isotta replied.
“That’s so good to hear,” Celestina replied, reaching for her daughter’s hand.
Isotta slowly folded her hand into her mother’s. She was awake, but their presence was what awoke her. Isotta preferred to still be asleep. Then, all the thoughts about her fate and her future would remain at bay.
“Rosa, thank you for reaching out and letting us know about Isotta being at the hospital,” her mother continued.
“I just thought you should know,” Rosa explained.
“Daughter, what happened? What did the doctors say?” Francesco asked.
Massimo looked at her to see what she would say. But Isotta didn’t say anything. He could see that she struggled to find the right words to say, but she didn’t come up with anything.
“She is going to be fine,” Massimo interjected. “She had a momentary setback, but she’s going to be fine.”
“A setback? A setback from what?” Celestina asked, her voice reflecting the level of concern she felt.
“I appreciate your response, Massimo, but that’s not the question my son asked,” Costanza interjected.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Isotta was momentarily relieved until she saw Dr. Farina enter the room.
“Good afternoon,” the doctor greeted, seeing that her patient had more visitors than before.
“Good afternoon, doctor,” Francesco said, getting up from the chair he occupied and making his way over to her.
“Yes, Dr. Farina,” the doctor answered, shaking his extended hand. “I’m Ms. Ricci’s attending physician.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Francesco replied. “This is her mother, Celestina, and her grandmother, Costanza.”
Both ladies nodded their acknowledgment.
“Can you tell us what’s going on with our daughter?” Celestina asked as she stepped away from Isotta’s bedside and padded toward the physician.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Farina replied. “My involvement with your daughter’s care is confidential.”
“Excuse me?” Celestina asked, confused by the doctor’s response.
“Ma’am, your daughter is an adult. She has rights of confidentiality and privacy.”
“But I’m her mother,” Celestina insisted. “We’re her family.”
“And I understand that, but still, she has rights, and I will protect those rights,” Dr. Farina replied, walking over to take Isotta’s vitals. They watched as the doctor went about her medical business, taking Isotta’s blood pressure and temperature and recording the findings on the record at the foot of the bed.
“Excuse me, doctor,” Francesco interrupted. Dr. Farina looked up temporarily, acknowledging him. “Our daughter’s health is important to us. We need to know what’s going on with her.”
“And as the doctor said, my wife’s privacy is paramount,” Massimo interjected before the doctor had the chance to respond. “Our business is our business.”
