Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
She waits until the front-page gossip of a glossy magazine distracts Mom before gently bopping my arm. “Can I have a word?”
“I—”
“This is no concern of yours, Miss Nosy,” my aunt says, cutting off my mom. “Just because your birthday month is coming up doesn’t give you the right to snoop on every conversation. Some things are better kept hidden… like the gift I was eyeing for you earlier.”
Mom’s face lights up with childish glee, and Aunt Maria responds to it with a wet, noisy raspberry.
While smiling with gratitude that I’ll never be crowned most childish in our family, I shadow my aunt into the corridor.
The door scarcely muffles Mom’s husky laugh when my aunt pounces. “What happened? You’re pale. You’re never pale. The only time I’ve ever seen your cheeks this white was when you FaceTimed to tell me about your mother’s cancer diagnosis.”
Tact dictates slowly ripping off the Band-Aid, but I misplaced my empathy somewhere between Dr. Russo’s office and my mother’s hospital room. “Dr. Russo said there’s nothing more they can do. Mom needs specialized treatment, which isn’t covered by the public healthcare system.”
Her sigh rustles my hair, and then she pulls me in for a hug. “Oh, tesoro. I’m so sorry.”
Tears threaten to spill as I offload some of my worries onto her shoulders. “I don’t know what to do. The council keeps raising the interest rate on our overdue taxes, and the building is falling apart. I can barely keep up with the bills, so there’s no way I can pay for private healthcare.”
I inch back and stare at my aunt as if she grew a third eye when she says, “There’s nothing we can’t fix.” She goes from semi-insane to a full-blown lunatic. “You and your mom can stay with me. My apartment isn’t big, but you and your mother can share my room, and I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” She’s years older than my mother. That doesn’t make her close to ancient, but my back can’t handle the stiffness of a sofa bed, so I don’t see her fairing any better.
“Why not?” she immediately fires back. “I’ll be there if Concetta needs anything while you’re working, and I won’t have to commute across town after being on my feet for nine hours a day to babysit her. My offer will benefit me as much as it will you.”
I don’t consider her tiny kitchen, cramped living room, and single bed with as much time as they deserve. That’s how lost I am. Two hours of aimless wandering didn’t yield a single solution to our dilemma.
“Are you sure?” I ask after a beat. “I don’t want to put you out.”
Aunt Maria smiles while brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Family is family. You need help. Let me do that.”
Relief cracks through some of the despair sitting heavy on my chest. “Thank you.” I wrap her up in a hug so firm that I knock her back. “I’d be lost without you.”
She squeezes the living bejesus out of me before she gestures with her head to Mom’s room. “Let’s go tell your mom the good news. She’s been seeking ways to share a room with me since we were kids.”
I cease following my aunt back into my mother’s room when a familiar voice calls my name. Cranking my neck, I spot a nurse who’s been working on my mom’s ward for the past month. Luca is friendly but a little creepy. I’ve caught him watching me from afar more than once. His gaze always lingers too long and too low for my liking. I highly doubt he could tell you the color of my eyes.
Luca shuffles from foot to foot when I join him at the nurses’ desk, and glances over his shoulder before speaking. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I wanted to talk to you about your options for your mother.” I prepare myself for another lecture about palliative care, but he surprises me. “There’s a clinic in Palermo that pays women to donate their eggs. It isn’t easy money by any means, but it’s good money. It could be enough to get your mother the care she needs.”
I stare at him, stunned. This isn’t a solution I’ve ever considered, and I genuinely don’t know if I should consider it, but curiosity killed the cat. “How much, exactly?”
“Ten to twenty thousand a deposit.”
“Thousand?” I double-check, certain I heard him wrong.
I didn’t. Nodding, he hands me a leaflet for a specialist IVF clinic. “You’d have to go through some tests, but I’ve seen women pay for their treatments this way…” His nervous shuffling is back. “And new boobs. But you don’t need them. Yours are…” His words stop when I not so inconspicuously yank together my blouse. Finally, his eyes lift to my face. “I thought it might be something you could be interested in, so I gathered a pamphlet for you. I’ll put my number on the back in case you’re interested.” Faster than I can blink, he yanks the brochure out of my hold and scribbles his details on the back. “Call me if you want to go through with it. I have a contact there, so I could probably get you in sooner than the standard wait time.”