Linda Cardillo - Dancing On Sunday Afternoons Read Online Free Page B

Signora D'Orazio has said about you convinces me that your family has sent the right person.
    Why don't I show you where you can wash your face and then let's go see your grandmother."
    Once again, she whisked me down the hal , this time to the ladies' room. When I was ready, we took the elevator up to the orthopedic floor. As we passed open doors, I saw and heard clusters of people gathered around patients' beds, family members taking advantage of the Sunday-evening visiting hours, and was relieved that now Giulia would have someone at her bedside, too, even if what I could offer was simply a voice and a face from home.
    Reverend Mother knocked at a partial y opened door.
    "Signora D'Orazio, she's here! Your granddaughter is here!"
    I willed a smile to my face and walked into the room.
    "Nana," I said. "It's me, Cara."
    She turned toward the door and reached out her hand. I was glad Reverend Mother had prepared me, but even so, her bruised and swol en face and the black-and-blue marks on her arm appal ed me. She looked as if someone had beaten her, and then I remembered the stone steps in Letitia's house.
    I went to her, put the hydrangea on the floor and threw my arms around her, careful of the IV and reluctant to hold her too tightly for fear of hurting her sore body.
    "How good you are to be here!" she whispered.
    I sat on the side of her bed and she stroked my hair, by now flying out of its ponytail. She rubbed my bare arms, as if assuring herself that I was truly there.
    Reverend Mother left us, letting me know that she was going to order the cot.

    Shortly afterward, Giulia's supper tray arrived. When the nun bringing the food saw that I was there, she said she'd cal down to the kitchen and have them send something for me. In the meantime, I busied myself with cutting meat and buttering bread for Giulia. She waved me away when I lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth.
    "I didn't break my arm, for God's sake. Just help me sit up a little higher so I don't dribble al over myself."
    This was the Giulia I knew, and it was a relief to have her scold me.
    By the time we'd both eaten, an aide had delivered a cot, sheets and pil ows and made up a bed by Giulia's side. I went down to my car and retrieved my suitcase and then stole a few minutes to peel off the clothes I'd been wearing for two days and take a shower in a bathroom down the hal from Giulia's loom that the aide had pointed out to me.
    When I rejoined Giulia, she'd had her evening medication, and some of the strain I'd seen in her face was eased. She beamed at me. I was now scrubbed, my hair neatly braided, and wearing fresh clothes.
    "Sweetheart, did you bring the things I asked for?"
    I patted the tote bag. "It's al in here, Nana. Do you want anything now?"
    She wavered, but then threw up her hands as if surrendering to an irresistible need.
    "The box. The cigar box. You found it, where I said to look?"
    I nodded and dug it out of the bag. "Here it is, Nana."
    She took the box and stroked the outside of it, tracing the colorful image of Francisco Fonseca. Then she held the box to her breast, cradling it with her eyes shut. At last, she lifted the cover and stared at the stacks of letters before slipping one out from its ribbon binding. She closed the box and brought the single letter to her lips before unfolding it.
    For a few moments I watched as she scanned the lines. I thought she was reading, but then she turned to me in restless exasperation.
    "My eyes are no good at night. I can't see the words. Sweetheart, you've done so much, just to come, but do this for me. Read to me. Read me the letter."
    She handed me the blue sheet of paper.
    I took it hesitantly.
    "Are you sure you want me to read this, Nana?"
    She looked at me and the letter in my hand, agitation rising in her as she struggled between the absolute sanctity of the message in the letter and the urgency she felt to hear it again.
    "I need to hear it tonight, Cara. Go ahead. I trust you." And so I began