Page 37 of Demon's Speak

“Would you like me to say anything in particular to her?”

“No,” Massimo began. “Just let her know I need to speak to her.”

“Will do,” Rosa agreed. She excused herself from Massimo’s room and went to the phone. She placed the call to the Conti residence. Francesco answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Greetings, Mr. Conti. This is Rosa calling for Mrs. Isotta.”

“Hold on for one second.”

Rosa patiently waited. She busied herself as she waited.

“Hello, Rosa.”

“Hello, Mrs. Isotta,” Rosa greeted cheerfully. “Mr. Massimo asked me to call.”

She felt a lurch in her spirit at the mere mention of his name and what all that represented. Isotta felt like resisting talking to him, refusing to entertain whatever he had to say. Rosa noticed how quiet she became on the other end of the line.

“Ms. Isotta?”

“Yes, yes Rosa?”

“Mr. Massimo would like to speak to you.”

“I heard you,” Isotta uttered. “I just need a second.”

“Okay,” Rosa replied. She kind of knew there had been some challenges in the relationship, so she didn’t want to push Isotta too hard.

Isotta mentally tussled between wanting to speak with her husband and not. Eventually, she agreed to hear what he had to say.

“I’ll talk with him.”

“Hold on for just a second.” Rosa clicked the line over and called Mr. Massimo.

“Mrs. Isotta is on the line.”

“Fine,” Massimo answered. He heard Rosa click the line over, and then Isotta was there.

“I’m ready for you to come home.”

“Why?” Isotta countered. She wasn’t ready to relinquish the distance she had from him, the peace she felt in being away from him, any of it.

“I’m ready for you to come home.” Massimo refused to relinquish his position or give in to her whims. He needed a baby to solidify his place in the family. He needed a child by his wife. He didn’t have time for nonsensical questions.

“But you didn’t say why, Massimo. I asked you why.”

He didn’t like to be questioned, not by his wife. Massimo didn’t even think what he said was a demand, although it was. It was cordial.

“Because I want you to come home.”

He could have responded angrily, but Massimo was trying to do better. He could feel himself becoming incensed.

“Let me think about it. I will let you know,” Isotta said.

“How long? How long do I have to wait?” Massimo felt his temper rising, but he didn’t blow up.

“Just a few days.” Isotta felt like she was being fair. Still, Massimo didn’t say anything. “Please.”

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