Anina laughed. “We get along just fine. The only island we go to is Ischia for the annual clam festival.”
“Keep it that way.”
“You could have named me Domenica.”
“Do you want to change your name?”
“No, I just think it’s odd that we don’t have a Domenica in my generation.”
“There’s a good reason for that. When I was seven or so, and Matteo was ten, Mama got pregnant. She told me that if the baby was a girl, she was mine, and if it was a boy, it was Matteo’s. We were always competitive, but this was ridiculous. We both wanted another sibling, and we waited for that baby like it was Easter Sunday. Anyhow, Mama went to the hospital, and when she came home, she didn’t have a baby. We found out later that she had a little girl, but she was stillborn. Mama had named her Domenica.”
“Poor Nonna.”
“And here’s the crazy part. I loved my baby sister, Domenica, and I never met her. Now, how can that be? How can you love someone that you don’t know and never will, but they are as real to you as anyone in your family?”
“Nonna loved her father the sea captain, and she never met him. She cried when she told me about him. So I guess you can love someone you’ve never met.”
“She cried?”
“She did.”
“I can count on one hand how many times I saw my mother cry. When she came home from the hospital, she cried when she dismantled the bassinet. It was white wicker and she had covered it in tiny yellow bows. It took her days to make the bassinet.”
“You remember it in detail, Mama.”
“Because the baby mattered to me. I longed for my sister my whole life. Mama was a different person after the baby.”
“Mama, why didn’t you tell me about your sister?”
“I didn’t want you to be afraid to have your own child someday.”
“It doesn’t scare me, Mama.” Anina embraced her mother. “Now it makes sense. When Nonna was dying she said, Domenica. She saw her daughter.”
“Do you think so?”
As Anina held Nicolina, Anina promised herself she would name her daughter Domenica someday. Domenica Cabrelli.
* * *
Anina sat in her grandmother’s chair on the terrace when she heard Beppe bark and the glass door slide open behind her. “Do you need something, Nonno?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the sea.
“Ciao, Anina.”
Anina turned and faced Paolo. She wore an apron over the dress she had worn to the funeral. Her feet were bare, and the mascara she had cried off formed two black shadows under her eyes.
Paolo pulled up a chair. “I’m sorry about your grandmother. She was a great lady. My parents said it was the biggest funeral they ever attended at San Paolino.”
“Thank you. I was glad to see you there. Please thank your parents for coming.”
“I will. We didn’t think it was appropriate to go to the coffee afterward.”
Anina managed to smile and took his hand and squeezed it before letting it go. One of the things that attracted her to Paolo when they met were his manners. “You and your family are always welcome.”
“It’s funny.” He smiled. “I feel that.”
“How have you been?”
“All right. I moved back in with my parents, but not for long. I’m going to Barcelona. A couple of friends invited me to come and work at their start-up.”
“Congratulations. That’s great news! I didn’t know.”
“How would you know? We don’t talk anymore.” Paolo looked down at his hands.
“We will. I spent the last few weeks with Nonna.”
“I didn’t have a problem with you spending time with your grandmother.”
“I know. I said some things I shouldn’t have. And I probably did some things I shouldn’t have. But I learned a lot from her in the past several weeks. I’m going to try to do better. I’m going to try really hard not to control everything in my life. That includes the people I love.”
“I didn’t want you to let go of me.”
“But look what happened when I did. You got a job! I wanted things to go well for you so much I prevented them from happening.”
“No, Anina. You encouraged me.”
“I tried. But I also held you back with my own fear about things. I wanted you to be happy in a job you loved, but I didn’t take time to find out what it was you loved to do. I was an obstacle, and now you have a good position. It’s all connected.”