Page 39 of Nantucket Reflections
Elena was quiet and watchful, her hand making a fist at her side. “Let me think about it,” she said. Her voice was hard-edged.
Julia sensed it. Elena wouldn’t do anything she wanted her to do, not unless it benefited the CAT name. She hoped Elena understood how essential this was before it was too late for all of them.
ChapterTwenty
July 2022
Positano, Italy
The fact that Alessandra was almost too weak to finish the mural that hot summer night in July was not something she and Federico talked about on the drive back from the edge of Positano. Early morning sunlight played across the rolling fields and lit up the house, the little place they’d shared since their wedding, the home where they’d brought their baby girl Elena, where they’d nursed each other back to health, where they’d bickered and slept and dreamed and planned.
When Federico cut the engine, Alessandra pushed at the door with the last of her strength, then fell back against the seat cushion, her head spasming. Realizing she was too weak, Federico carried her from the car and into the house, where he laid her on the sofa so she could watch the rest of the morning through the window. Federico hauled in all the mural supplies, cleaning the paintbrushes and putting everything away before joining her with coffee and cornettos stuffed with pistachio cream.
“I’ve never been this happy,” Alessandra whispered to him, cuddling closer. “I think it’s the best CAT mural to date.”
“I agree,” Federico said, kissing her on the nose.
A few seconds later, Elena joined them, digging into the brown paper bag to find her own cornetto. She was older now, old enough to sleep alone at the house at night. They’d told her that they were going to be at a party held by friends, that they’d be late, and that if anything happened, she needed to call them.
A part of Alessandra wondered if Elena knew about Alessandra’s identity as CAT, if she’d ever put together the facts and dates and realized. But Elena was clever enough not to ask her mother that outright. Although her mother was dying, although everything was about to shift to another dimension of fear and doubt, Elena was still just a teenager, making her way in the world. She was still selfish and obsessed with her little life and her friends, and the boys.
That was what Alessandra wanted most for Elena: normality.
Of course, Elena also had heaps and heaps of CAT money. Elena didn’t know that yet. When she decided what she wanted to do for school and what she wanted to be, Federico would make the money known to her. She’d probably put the final pieces of the puzzle together then.
Two days after their return from the final mural making, Alessandra moved into the guest bedroom and couldn’t really get up again. She was too weak, thin as a rail, and trying to reckon with the fact that it really was the end.
Sophia came over that afternoon with heaps of food and plenty of gossip. Sophia’s surgery last year had completely removed the cancer, and it was almost like she’d never been ill. That was how vibrant she seemed. Alessandra often wondered if she was pretending to be this energetic for Alessandra’s sake. Maybe it was just a big act.
Alessandra’s father was softer about it, frequently sitting by her bed as they watched old movies they both loved and shared memories. Unlike her mother, Alessandra was fairly certain Marius had never caught on to her CAT identity, and she was fine with that. She just wanted to be his little girl, forever.
She never wanted anyone to know she was CAT, partially because CAT felt so much bigger than life, now. CAT wouldn’t die of cancer because CAT wasn’t really human. She thought brilliant thoughts. She performed brave acts in the name of art. She was incredible in ways Alessandra could only hope to be.
Federico arranged for a hospice nurse to visit the house daily. When she arrived, Alessandra was surprised to realize she knew her, or had known of her for years.
“Lucia?” Alessandra said weakly, offering the woman a smile as she adjusted her hospital scrubs. “I didn’t realize you were a nurse!”
Lucia smiled grimly. “The art thing didn’t really work out.”
“It didn’t for me either,” Alessandra tried to joke, gesturing to her ailing body. “Obviously.”
Lucia looked like she didn’t know what to say. Finally, she burst out with, “I really am sorry about this.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Alessandra told her. “You must see death all the time.”
Lucia blinked in confirmation. “My boyfriend got me this job,” she explained as she checked Alessandra’s various vital signs and prepared to care for her—doing all the things Alessandra could no longer do for herself, things Alessandra refused to let Federico do.
“Who are you seeing these days?” Alessandra asked, remembering that Lucia had been somewhat wild for a few years, having committed numerous crimes.
“His name is Ivan,” she said. “He’s from Bulgaria.”
“Does he make you happy?” Alessandra asked.
Lucia scoffed gently. “I don’t know.”
Alessandra turned her head to look at Lucia hard. “He should make you happy!”
“I don’t know,” Lucia said, trying to fix her face. “I’m sure you’re right.”
