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Mom would probably have more of a reaction if she didn’t feel like every inch of her body was burning intensely. Instead, a spaced-out smile spreads across her face. “After everything, you lookhappy. How is that possible?”
Love. That’s my instinctual answer. However, that message not being sent has messed with my head, as crazy as that seems. Yet wheneverythingseems crazy, is it fair to pick out one note of madness?
“I don’t know,” I say. “What do you want? Some toast?”
“Sure,” she replies. “Just one slice.”
I return to the kitchen and quickly make the toast. Then I have a shower, leave Mom resting in bed, and go to make myself some breakfast. As I put my bread in the toaster, Alessia enters, wearing a dark dress, her eyes downcast with heavy makeup. She looks like she’s barely slept.
“Good morning, Mrs. Marino,” I say.
Her expression is just as sad as Mom’s. It’s like she’s grateful to me for even addressing her. She acts as though I will call her names, push her away, or insult her. “Yes, hello, Scarlet.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“How amIfeeling?” she repeats, shaking her head as she sits at the kitchen bar. “I hardly think that’s the right question. How myhusbandfeels is more to the point, isn’t it? I wonder if he even knows what’s going on. Oh, goodness gracious.”
“What is it, Mrs.—”
“Alessia,please,” she says tightly.
My toast pops, almost making me jump. It feels like there’s way too much tension in the room. “Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong. Not right. It just feels like a relief not to have to pretend anymore. Pretend he was speaking. Pretend I knew what I was doing. Oh, I’ve ruined everything.”
She starts to cry, hunching over. Despite what she did, I can’t just stand here and watch. Walking around the bar, I place my hand on her shoulder. It’s just like in the dining room last night. She turns and presses her face against me.
“You’re so strong,” she says after a minute or two of heart-wrenching sobbing. “Such a resilient young woman.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “I try my best. It’s all we can do, right?”
“But you judge me for cheating.”
I hesitate. She leans back, staring firmly up at me. “If you’re going to be my daughter-in-law one day, get used to being honest.”
“Uh… Mrs.… Alessia… I’m not sure…”
“Oh,please,” she says, dabbing at her cheeks. “If I know one thing, it’s my family. I’ve never seen Elio look at anybody the way he looks at you. I tried. His father and Itried. We wanted grandchildren. We wanted our son to find love, but he’s always been obsessed with his work. Then you came along. You changed everything. I can see it. When he looks at you, it’s like how Leo used to… used to…”
She breaks down again. This time is worse than the last. I do my best to hold her, trying to contain some of her heartache. It’s like she’s tearing apart from the inside. Finally, she manages to stop herself. “So?” she says. “Honesty, dear, please.”
I swallow a ball of nerves. Even if she made a mistake, I don’t want to start our relationship with judgment, but I don’t want to start it with lies, either.
“I don’t agree with cheating,” I tell her. “I think if you’ve committed yourself to one man, you should keep that commitment. If you can’t, you should leave him, but there’s no excuse for cheating in my book. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t youdareapologize for that,” she replies. “It’s exactly how I feel, which may surprise you. I was weak. Leo was working so much. I let thispersonfill my head with stories of romance and princes and princesses. I enjoyed the physical side, but I hated myself afterward. I scrubbed myself raw in the shower every time. I broke it off after a month.”
When I nod, she tilts her head at me. “You don’t think that’s a reasonable excuse.”
“With all due respect—”
“I don’t need respect. Just the truth.”
“Okay. There’s no excuse for cheating.”
“Yes, you’re right. Leo knew, by the way.”
I gasp. “He did?”
