“Thank God!” My mother puts her hand over her heart in relief.
“But she has severe arthritis in her knees. They lock and she falls. When she took the spill the other night, it was a doozy. She hit her head pretty badly, and we want to make certain there wasn’t any neurological damage. So we’re going to keep her here and run some more tests.”
“How about knee replacement?” I ask.
“We’re looking into that now. She looks to be a good candidate. And the recuperation period would be a snap with all of you pitching in.”
“I’d do anything for my mother,” Mom says.
“The truth is,” Dr. Rigaux says, looking at us, “surgery is the only way to ensure that this won’t happen again.”
Gram’s third day in the hospital is spent doing more tests, with Mom and my sisters and brother and I staying in shifts to keep her company. I left for a couple of hours to check in with June at the shop, take a shower, and change clothes. I changed the sheets in Gram’s room for Mom and Dad to stay over, as well as the ones in Mom’s room so Jaclyn can stay here if she wants to.
Gram is craving some decent food. She can’t face another day of pressed turkey with yellow gravy and a cup of Jell-O. I load a bag with Tupperware containers of penne, hot rolls, artichoke salad, and a wedge of pumpkin pie.
Back at Saint Vincent’s, I push through the doors and make my way up to the third floor. As I turn the corner down the hallway, I see a group gathered outside Gram’s room. I panic and break into a run.
When I get there, Tess, Jaclyn, and my mother are standing together outside Gram’s room. In the garish green hospital lights, the women in my family look like peasants in an Antonioni film with their bleak expressions, dark hair, black eyes, and the matching circles under them.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s a little crowded in there,” Jaclyn says.
“Why?” She doesn’t answer, so I go in. Mom follows me.
Sitting on the bed, next to Gram, holding her hand, is Dominic Vechiarelli. I must look like I’ve seen a ghost, because I gasp and all eyes land on me. But it’s true, there’s proof, Dominic’s suitcases are propped next to the visitor’s chair.
My father stands at the foot of the bed. He motions for Mom to join him. Dad puts his arm around her. Roman stands next to him, wearing jeans and his work clogs. I only look down at them because as he sways from foot to foot, I hear the squish of the plastic.
As my eyes drink in the roster of visitors, I see Gianluca. I try not to have a reaction. He looks more handsome in America than I ever remember him in Italy, and younger, wearing a leather jacket, a sweater, and faded jeans. My throat closes at the sight of him, but for now, I will blame the dry hospital air. Pamela and Alfred stand away from the bed, by the window.
“What, what is going on?” I say softly. I grip the bag of food I’m holding because, in this room, it’s beginning to feel like the only thing that’s real.
Mom puts her arm around my shoulders. “Dominic flew over when he heard Mom was in the hospital. Evidently, Ray Rinaldi is instructed to call him anytime Gram is ill or in need of…something.” Mom looks at me, confused. She doesn’t know about Dominic, and now, suddenly, she finds out that Dominic Vechiarelli is the first name on Gram’s emergency contact list.
“And, um, you’re here…,” I stammer when I look at Gianluca.
“I flew with my father. I don’t think it’s wise for him to travel alone,” Gianluca says, keeping his eyes on Roman.
Roman’s eyes narrow as he looks back at Gianluca. He’s got a hunch this is the man I kissed. But he’s above his suspicions when he says, “And I brought Gram panna cotta, because she likes the way I make it.” He buries his hands in his pockets and looks at me.
“Now that Valentine is here, I can ask Teodora something I have longed to ask her since the summer. Please, everyone, come in,” Dominic announces.
“There’s no room,” Tess chirps from the doorway.
“Please, everyone, squeeze,” Mom says. “We’re a big Italian family, togetherness is our thing,” she announces, as if to apologize for the cubicle-size rooms in this city hospital. The group shifts to accommodate my sisters and their spouses.
Dominic takes Gram’s hands and looks into her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
The room is completely quiet save for the beep of Gram’s heart monitor.
Then, my mother blurts out, “Dear God, Ma, I didn’t even know you were dating.”
“For ten years. Since your father died,” Gram says softly.
“You mean I could have been happy for you for ten years and you didn’t tell me?” Mom wails. “Honestly, Ma!”
“Mike, for God’s sake, be happy for her now,” my father says. “Look at her. Her head was cracked open like a coconut and she can’t stop smiling. This is a good thing.”
“Let her answer,” I interrupt. I hold my breath. A yes from Gram means the life I cherish will be over. I’ll lose her to Dominic, the hills of Arezzo, and the isle of Capri faster than I can say Gianluca. But the truth is, I love her so much, I want her happiness more than my own. I cross my fingers for a yes.
“Yes, Dominic, I will marry you,” Gram says to him. Dominic kisses Gram tenderly.
My family, including my mother, sort of freeze upon hearing the word yes, as if they’re watching a pot of oil pretzels explode on the stove. It’s up to me to soften the shock of it all. After all, I knew.
“Congratulations!” I go to her and put my arms around Gram, careful to avoid the IVs in her arm. “I’m so happy for you.” Tears fill my eyes, but I am truly filled with joy for my brave Gram who is showing me, even in this moment, how to take a risk, how to live.
I feel my sisters and brother gather around me.
Jaclyn begins to cry. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend either! I wish everyone would stop protecting me. I can handle it.”
Mom mouths postpartum to Gianluca as she takes Jaclyn in her arms. Tess embraces Alfred as Dad reaches out to Dominic to shake his hand. Dominic leaps to his feet and embraces Dad instead.
“Pop?” Dad says to Dominic, then looks at us and shrugs. “Everybody say hello to…Pop.” My sisters and I laugh. Soon, everyone is laughing. The whole family.
I believe it’s fair to say that when things fall apart in my life, they do so in every way, so fate is assured that I have learned my lesson. There is only one place I could go to collect my thoughts and make sense of what Gram’s new life will mean for all of us, and I’m here, high above the fray, on our roof.
I slipped out of the hospital, leaving Gram to celebrate her engagement with the family. I walked Roman out, who had to return to the restaurant, but was honored that he was present for Dominic’s proposal. He kissed me on the street, inspired by the love he’d seen in room 317.
There’s a traffic jam on the West Side Highway, a clutter of cars at the intersection, flashing lights, horns, some barely audible angry shouts, and instead of wishing the city noise would be quelled, I wish there was more to drown out the thoughts in my head.
The sight of my newly betrothed Gram in her hospital bed signaled the end of an era. Forget the fact that I’m now the only unmarried woman in my family, it appears I’m also the only sensible one, who knows what all this change means, for now and for the future. Here’s the truth of it all. Gram will marry and go. My sisters will raise their families. My mother will make certain that my father eats soy cheese on whole-wheat pasta because that’s her guarantee that he will live and avoid a recurrence of his prostate cancer. My brother, as soon as the champagne toast is cheered at Gram’s wedding, will put a for sale sign on 166 Perry Street, leaving the Angelini Shoe Company, and me, homeless. It would appear all will be well for everyone in my family, except of course, for me.