Page 64 of The Honest Affair

“He wanted to leave us for you,” Signora Marradi said curtly. “Just before he died. He had others, you see. I always ignored them because they did not matter. But you—you wrote him letters. I found them, you see. He said he told you to let him go, but just before he died, he wanted to go to New York. He must have wanted to find his new family.”

Her anger was palpable despite the low tenor of her voice.

Nina closed her eyes for a moment. “I never asked him to do that,” she almost whispered. “I wanted him to meet Olivia. But he didn’t know about her. I was—I was planning to tell him when I came. But he didn’t know about that plan either. I—my last letter was taken. It was thrown away.”

The two women stared at each other, both torn with grief and anger over a man who had clearly never been good enough for either of them. I wondered if either of them could see it.

“I think,” said Signora Marradi, “that you must go.”

“But—” Nina tried.

“No,” said the other woman. She shook her head, causing small wisps of gray and black hair to feather around her shadowed features. Suddenly, she looked quite tired. “You have done enough. Please leave.”

Nina opened her mouth like she wanted to argue again. But there was nothing else to say. Several awkward seconds ticked by before I realized I needed to do something.

“Come on, doll,” I murmured, holding out a hand to Nina, who was still paralyzed in her chair. “Let’s go.”

This time, she allowed me to pull her up and take her to the door, leaving the numbed Signora Marradi staring at her espresso.

“Thank you for the coffee,” I called before the door shut behind us.

There was no reply.

Nina walked as if in a trance as I guided her down the stairs, out of the courtyard, and to the sidewalk that would take us back to town.

And it was there, finally, that she stopped again.

“Well,” she said softly as she turned to me, eyes glistening. “I suppose that’s it, isn’t it? I don’t know what I was thinking, coming here.”

I stroked her cheek softly, wiping a few stray tears with my thumb. “You thought you were doing the right thing, baby. You did the best you could.”

“Which accomplished nothing,” she said bitterly, then pressed her face into her hands. “Oh God, what if that’s all I’m really capable of? Just…nothing?”

“Ah, Ms. de Vries!”

We turned to find Signora Marradi walking swiftly down the sidewalk while shoving her arms into a worn trench coat to guard from the cold that she was otherwise underdressed for.

“Here,” she said crisply as she came to a stop and thrust a piece of paper at us like it was a weapon.

Nina was upset enough that I took it for her.

“What’s this?” I asked.

Nina wiped under her eyes. When she was finished, she wore a strange smile that made her look like a sad doll. An actual doll.

“An address,” said Signora Marradi. “For Giuseppe’s olive farm near Siena. Do you know it?”

She searched Nina’s face. The underlying question was clear too: had she known it with him?

But my girl, to her credit, didn’t look away, despite the fact that her deep gray eyes still welled as recollections clearly washed over her. Instead she lifted her chin, looked straight into Signora Marradi’s eyes, and nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “I know it.”

SignoraMarradi didn’t look away either. Anger, then understanding flashed through her dark eyes as well.

“The farm, we have to sell it,” she said. “My daughters, they are there now to prepare.”

Nina started in obvious surprise. “Sell it? But I thought Peppe did that before…”

She trailed off as Signora Marradi shook her head.

“No,” she said. “He wanted to, but the girls were so upset, he kept it.”

She shrugged, if to say, that was that. Then she glanced sadly back at Nina’s purse, as if she still saw the picture of Olivia laughing across the black screen on her phone.

“I think they would like to know about their sister,” she admitted. “You should go there and tell them. Giuseppe is dead. I will not keep his secrets anymore.”

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