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Roberto’s mouth dropped open. “So itisserious!”
“We’re talking business, Roberto.”
“Will you introduce me to a redhead, too? So I can have one of my own?”
Franco ignored him, opening the ledger. “If we buy this parcel, I can support a family, and you can support a family, so—”
“Farmhousesfullof redheads!” Roberto threw up his arms. “Redheads forever! Like poppies they’ll grow!”
“First, you need to know the details—”
“I hate details.”
“Rich men love details, and you’re going to be rich.”
“Can I be a baron? Baron of the Redheads?”
“Roberto, pay attention.”
“Okay, but you’re not getting a belt buckle.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Mafalda sat nursing baby Salvo by candlelight, and Lucia slept in Salvo’s box at her feet. Anna was asleep, and the kitchen was quiet except for Salvo’s suckling. Mafalda felt relieved and happy, now that she and Lucia were safe at night, and she grew accustomed to nursing another mother’s baby. Her body produced enough milk to feed both, for which she thanked Madonna.
Mafalda had on a new dress in a floral pattern, and a pair of shoes only one size too small. Lucia had clothes, diapers, and a swaddling blanket from Salvo, and Mafalda used the blanket to cover the baby on the walk here. Anna made a big dinner every night, and Mafalda gained back the weight she had lost. Tonight, they had a mouthwatering red mullet with rosemary, fennel, and basil.
Mafalda began rocking Salvo as he nursed. The baby had gained weight, too, thriving in her care. She closed her eyes, letting the nursing relax her, but she didn’t fall asleep. She thanked Madonna del Lume for Lucia, Salvo, Anna, and Francesco, who was away again. They had been her salvation.
Mafalda opened her eyes to a scream.
“What’s the matter with her?” Anna stood holding Lucia, her mouth a horrified circle. “She’s the color of milk! She’smilk!”
“No!” Mafalda jumped up and set Salvo on the table. “You weren’t supposed to look! Give her to me!”
“Take her!” Anna thrust Lucia at Mafalda, and the baby started crying, then Salvo did, too. The wailing reverberated in the tiny kitchen, and Anna picked up Salvo. “You lied to me! You brought ademoninto our house!”
“She’s a baby!”
“You lied!” Anna advanced on Mafalda, who edged backward. “What have you done to Salvo? Will he turn white, too? Is it yourmilk? Is that why you have so much? It’s a spell, isn’t it? You’re trying to turn him intomilk!”
“No, no! I fed him! I loved him! I took care of him!”
“Get out!” Anna pointed at the door, and Mafalda flew outside with Lucia crying. She ran through the village, reached the wall, and put Lucia in her sling. She stuffed their belongings, food, and water into her sack. Tears came to her eyes, but she wiped them away.
Mafalda would never think again about the baby boy and the home she was leaving, since neither was hers. From now on, she would avoid everyone. She would live in the shadows, behind the walls, or under the trees. She would survive like a she-wolf with her cub. It was the only chance Lucia had to grow up strong, proud, and safe.
Every mother’s wish.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
It was the Sabbath, and Alfredo needed G-d. He had no hay, and they were down to his last apple. He’d made his cheese, but fed it to the girls. He’d been looking forward to tonight, so he could conduct his service, as both rabbi and congregation. He prayed G-d would have answers for him.
The sun was sinking outside the window, and Alfredo lit a single candle on the kitchen table to substitute for a menorah. He used his threadbare whitetallisto cover his head and shoulders. His Hebrew Bible lay open before him, and his girls and Beatrice were dozing.
Alfredo froze when he heard a commotion outside the door, which was closed. Ginevra and the others woke up, but not Beatrice.
“Alfredo, we want those goats! Hand them over and we won’t hurt you!”
