Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I consider letting it ring out, preferring to pretend yesterday never occurred, but I can’t. I need this.
No. Correction. My mother needs this.
“Hello?”
“Valentina Raimondi?” The voice on the other end isn’t as devastated since she’s close to clocking out for the weekend. “This is Guilia from the Palermo IVF Clinic. I’m calling with the results of yesterday’s procedure.”
For how often she swallows, anyone would swear her life was precariously dangling on the wire, and not my mother’s. I could kill her for the delay.
I gasp in disbelief when she says, “It was a success.”
I can’t breathe or move. All I can do is cry. Overwhelmed with relief, I grip the dresser to keep from collapsing.
“Thank you,” I whisper as fresh tears sting my eyes. “Thank you so much.”
My relief is short-lived. “There’s just one minor issue.” Guilia’s tone shifts from friendly to anxious. “We’ve had trouble processing your payment. The bank details you provided aren’t working.”
I laugh like my anguish over the previous twenty-four hours has left town. “I lost my purse yesterday, so I had to put a freeze on my account.” After lowering my eyes to the floor, I endeavor to lie my way out of being stamped as a homewrecker. “I was issued new account details today.”
“Okay. Great. If you could bring them with you to the clinic, we will process your payment immediately.”
I hesitate. Returning to the clinic and risking another encounter with Giovanni fills me with dread. I can’t trust myself around him when I’m this vulnerable. But I really need the money. My mother’s life hinges on this.
“What time?” I ask, forcing the words out.
“Now would be great.”
“Now?” I check my watch. I’ll never make it to Palermo before the clinic closes. The train takes an hour, and it’s nearly six. Not to mention I’d have to stay in the city overnight since the train I’d catch would be the last train to Carlisle for the evening. Some lines run well into the evening, but Carlisle bucks the trend with advancements that would bring it into the twenty-first century.
When I explain my concerns to Guilia, she replies, “That’s fine. We’re happy to wait for you to arrive before locking up.” When I remain quiet, still hesitant, and if I’m honest, a little perplexed, she adds, “Unless you want to wait to process your payment until next month?”
“Next month?”
I gasp in a quick breath when she hums in agreement. “We only process payments on the fifteenth of each month. If we miss today’s cycle, it will have to wait until next month.”
“I can come today. That won’t be a problem.” My words are crystal clear since my mind is made up. I’m sure I can find a quiet corner of a shelter in Palermo to rest my head.
“Great.” I can’t tell if her sigh is in relief or panic. “We will see you soon.”
When she disconnects our call, I stare at my phone, hands shaking, before dialing the landline number of the pub. Calling in sick isn’t something I do—ever—so I’m half expecting the owner to sound worried, maybe even a little suspicious. Instead, when I tell Alessandro I’m not feeling well, there’s a pause, a faint sigh, and then he says, “Yeah, all right.”
With that done, I walk into the living room to break the news to my mom and aunt. Mom is sitting in her new favorite chair, wrapped in a blanket, and her eyes are close to closing as she fakes interest in the show Aunt Maria is watching.
“Mom?” I whisper, not wanting to scare her.
She opens her eyes fully and smiles at me. “Tesoro… You look lovely. Glowing, even. Doesn’t she, Maria?”
I brush off their praise like I did their disapproval this morning when no amount of scalding could remove the heat from my cheeks from more orgasms under my belt than I’ve achieved my entire life.
“I got a call.” I almost go the honesty route, but I’m too choked up to do it. God, I wish I could tell her everything, but I’m unsure how to initiate a conversation like that. Furthermore, everything is still so fragile right now. It feels seconds from snapping. “Alessandro needs me to come in early. The pub is overrun with soccer fanatics. Something about possible World Cup contention.”
“That would be Palermo FC,” my aunt chimes in. “They’re in with a real shot this year.”
Her tone is friendly, but the suspicious glare she shoots me makes me worry she’s about to call me out as a liar. “I’ll have to sleep on the cot in the office tonight. I’m closing and don’t want to walk home at three a.m.”
Mom squeezes my hand in support. “I doubt it will be any worse than the cot you’ve been using here.” When I groan, agreeing with her, she smiles for real. “Don’t worry about me. Your aunt is here, so go do what needs to be done.”