Matelda nodded. She had cared for her mother, Domenica, until she died; it didn’t seem possible that she was now the elderly person who needed Nicolina to care for her.
Nicolina got in the driver’s seat, put on her seat belt, and started the car. She drove onto the main boulevard slowly and stopped at the light. She opened a small bottle of water and handed it to Matelda. “Drink this, please.”
“I’m fine.”
“Drink it. Anything bad that happens to older people happens because they don’t drink enough water.”
Matelda sipped the water. “It’s probably the sfogliatella. I ate the whole thing. I guess I can’t eat what I love anymore.”
“A pastry won’t make you faint.”
“I was barely out.”
“We don’t know how long you were out. Papa went to work at seven, and I came over at nine.”
“It was just a couple of seconds.”
“How do you know?”
“I was thinking of my mother when she was a young nurse in the clinic. What does that mean?”
“You needed to see a doctor?”
“I take care of myself.” Matelda was defensive.
“Let’s have the doctor decide.”
Ida Casciacarro was at the market when she saw Matelda in Nicolina’s car as they passed by. She thought to wave until she noticed that Matelda and her daughter were bickering. “The Cabrellis. Always fighting,” she said under her breath.
* * *
Olimpio stepped outside the shop and called Nicolina.
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said her heart was weak. It may be causing her mood swings. That’s why the crying all of a sudden. It’s also why she’s having issues with her memory. She told him she’s having vivid dreams. She’s dreaming of her childhood. She believes that her mother is calling her to be with her. She can see them.” Nicolina’s voice broke.
“Did the doctor say anything else? What can we do?”
“He said that Mama was in the first stages of whatever this is.”
“Dementia?”
“The doctor doesn’t think so. It’s not Alzheimer’s either.”
“Thank God.”
“The doctor said nothing had changed since you brought her in for tests.”
“Good.”
“He said her heart issue is causing a lack of oxygen to her brain. He wants Mama to take oxygen at night when she sleeps. He says that will help. I’m going over there with the machine now to show her how to use it.”
“I’m on my way home.”
“No, Papa, stay. I can handle this. The doctor said to stick to our routines but keep an eye on her. It will agitate her if we start acting differently.”
“I understand. I will call your brother.”
Olimpio stood on the sidewalk. He had to expect this; after all, they were octogenarians and something was bound to go wrong with one or the other, or even both of them. But the time had come too quickly. There were still memories to make.
* * *
Nicolina drove down the boulevard with her mother in the passenger seat. “Mama, are you all right over there?”
“Va bene.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through this today.”
“Going to doctors is my new career. With bookkeeping, I had the weekends off. Being old and going to doctors is a seven-day-a-week grind.”
Nicolina stopped at the light.
“You see the gelato shop?” Matelda pointed. “That used to be Dottore Pretucci’s clinic. My mother used to work there. She was the first woman in this village with an education.”
“That makes me proud.”
“Me too. She paid for the achievement, believe me.”
Nicolina noticed that her mother’s memory was best when they were walking or driving. It was as if motion itself triggered details and encouraged Matelda to share them.
“What happened to your mother?” Nicolina asked. “Do you remember?”
CHAPTER 13
Viareggio
FEBRUARY 1939
The village was quiet as Domenica Cabrelli walked to work on the eve of the finale of Carnevale. Only a few locals were out, conducting the business of early morning. The fishermen were setting up their haul at market, and two nuns were haggling with the local farmer over fresh bunches of broccoli rabe to make Lenten broth. The food stands along the boardwalk were covered with tarps. The bunting that crisscrossed over the promenade fluttered in triangles of red, white, and green. The only sound she heard was metal against metal as a vendor scraped the grill of the sausage-and-pepper stand, preparing for his biggest night of sales.