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I take it. It’s Michele.
“Get home,” he says. “Your ma is waiting, and your wife is pale.”
“My wife?”
“You think you the only one with connections? Don’t say a word to your ma about being married either.”
The line goes dead.
I hustle home. He never looks for me. He never calls. And something about his voice was off. He answers the door a few minutes later. The breath out of my mouth comes out like steam from a speeding train. I’m not out of breath because of the run.
He turns his back on me and I’m left to shut the door. I follow him to the dining room. All eyes turn up to find mine when I enter. Lucila is pale, but it’s different. Her eyes are watery. She’s holding ma’s hand. Ma gives me a weak smile. Molly is holding Minnie on her lap, helping her color. Unc is staring into his cup of coffee like it’s sucked his brains out and he’s looking for them. Michele moves around me and takes his usual seat.
“Your ma is sick,” he says.
“Michele,” Ma says quietly.
“You want to sugar coat it for him? The son who’s as hard as rock? You went to the doctor. You were diagnosed with a crippling disease. Then you come home and cook him a feast, and this is how he repays you? By making you wait?” He slams his fist into the table, rattling the dishes and making them jump.
Ma and Lucila both bounce like the porcelain plates. Unc licks his hand where the coffee sloshed over on to it. I stare at Michele, then look at ma. Maybe she sees that I need confirmation from her.
“It’s true,” she whispers.
“What is it?” I ask. “How long?”
She tells me the name of what she has and shrugs. “Can’t say. It’ll progressively get worse. That’s all they can tell me. Brio!” She stops me before I leave the room. “I’m going to fight.” She squeezes Lucila’s hand and presses it to her chest. “You’ve given me something to fight for. I have so much to look forward to now. Like the wedding. My only son is getting married. I refuse to leave until I see it all. I’m a fighter. Like you. It’s in me, too, but I’m going to use it to keep me here. I’m determined.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. I walk out of the room and go into ma’s music parlor. It’s dark and the air is cold. I take a seat at the piano and stare at the keys. Her perfume wafts in before she does.
“Hey,” she whispers.
Words fail me, but my fingers start to play as I look up to meet my wife’s eyes. Tears stream down her cheeks. When the song ends, she uses her palms to wipe them.
“I’m sorry, Lilo,” she whispers. “She doesn’t deserve this. And neither do you.”
I move to the edge of the seat, turning so she can stand between my legs. When she does, I reach out and pull her closer, my arms around her waist, my face buried in her stomach. She runs her hand through my hair.
“You’re not alone,” she says. “I’m here. We have each other.”
“How long?” I say.
“How long…?”
“Will you be here.”
“You have the key, remember?” Her voice is full of conviction. She sounds so much older than she is. Because she had to grow up before her time. She understands loss and how it goes hand in hand with life more than some adults I know. “That means forever.”
The conversation with Gallo grates on me. It tries to pry my mouth open so the words will spill out. Instead, I say nothing. I refuse to lose her. I refuse to lose the key that unlocks…everything.
LUCILA
PRESENT DAY
Carine once told me that she was looking forward to meeting her grandson in heaven. She would kiss him for me and tell him how much we all loved him.
Three weeks after our wedding, I told her to hold little Brio in her arms for me until I got there. Her husband sat on the other side of her, holding her other hand. A strong embrace that would give her strength.
Her Brio, her son, played the piano as she did the bravest thing any of us could do in life when the time came—she closed her eyes and let go.
