Page 19 of The Unraveling of Julia

“I think that every day. I wish he were here.”

“Dead and alive ’ere. ’E is ’ere, Signora ’ere, too. Everywhere.” Anna Mattia moved her gnarled little hands in the air. “Together.”

Julia wondered if the dead could be among the living. Oddly, she felt like shewasthe dead among the living.

“Anima. Soul. All ’ere.” Anna Mattia gestured to her chest. “My Sofia, I lose when she is nine years.”

Oh no.“I am so sorry.”

“After church, we come ’ome, we eat. We ’ave bread, it catch ’er throat. She choke.” Anna Mattia’s hooded eyes filmed. “I can no save, Piero can no save.”

“I’m so sorry.” Julia imagined the awful scene. A frantic mother and father, trying to save their little girl. Then she flashed on Mike, bleeding to death in her arms, his gaze heavenward. She realized it was uniquely hellish to experience the unnatural death of someone you loved, not only horrifying, but literally against nature.

“My Sofia, she ’ere now. We talk.” Anna Mattia lifted a graying eyebrow. “You talk your ’usband?”

“No,” Julia answered, nonplussed. “I think about him, but I don’t talk to him.”

“Why no?”

“It never occurred to me.” Julia never talked to her mother, either. Maybe she would start crying and never stop.

“Ask for sign. I ask, Sofia give. It ’elp me suffer.” Anna Mattia winced. “No, my English is wrong. It ’elp menotsuffer. ’Ow you say?”

“It eased your suffering?”

“Sì, certo.” Anna Mattia patted Julia’s arm. “Sofia, she love a pink flower. Gladiolus, wild lily. Some light, some dark. Sofia pick it always. Someday, I come to my kitchen and I see on the floor a petal from this flower. She give me and Piero. A sign of love.” Anna Mattia slid the water glass from Julia’s hand and set it on a side table. “You miss your ’usband? Ask for sign. Go, now.”

“Go where?” Julia asked, confused, but Anna Mattia rose and pulled her to her feet.

“Out.” Anna Mattia led her from the bedroom, and Julia followed her downstairs to the kitchen door, then realized something. Today’s horoscope hadn’t made sense until this very minute.

Let go, and go.

12

Julia looked around, taking in the scene from outside the kitchen door. The day had turned grim, and gray clouds blanketed the sky, weighing the air with humidity. A rickety wooden pergola sagged with trumpet vines over a rusty tile table with broken cane chairs. A jumble of weeds, grass, and mossy stones looked like it used to be an herb garden. Beyond that was the vineyard, such as it was, curving behind the villa at a sharply lower elevation.

She spotted a narrow path down the hill and started walking that way. The ground was uneven and embedded with fieldstone. The wind dropped off precipitously, and the air smelled damp and earthy, like something decomposing.

She reached the vineyard, thinking of Mike and scanning it with his eyes. He would have loved to have a vineyard, but this neglected mess would have broken his heart. Greenish-brown vines coiled in curlicues around the underbrush, throttling tiny white wildflowers trying to find the sun. Wooden stakes meant to guide the growth had long ago been toppled by the grappling vines and swallowed up by the tangled thicket. It struck her that unlike a ruined villa, untamed nature never rested.

Mike would clear this place with his bare hands.

The thought popped into Julia’s head, and she didn’t try to shoo it away.

I wish Mike were here.

I would give anything if Mike were alive.

I would give all the money in the world.

I miss my husband.

Julia let the thoughts come, one after the next, and found herself not only thinking about Mike butfeelinghim, experiencing loving him as if he were still alive. She could even pinpoint the moment she fell in love with him because it happened on her birthday. They’d been seeing each other but they hadn’t gotten to the I-love-yous yet, and they woke up in bed that morning.

It’s your birthday!Mike had said, kissing her.

I hate my birthday.Julia didn’t have to explain. He knew why.

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