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Oh. Oh no, I would not put his doggie condo there. The house and all the trees were gone. I battled back the urge to cry. I wasn’t sure I had any more tears left to shed.
“Any news from Lowell?” I softly asked so as not to rouse Donvino, for he had breathed in more of the smoke than I had since he had made me leave the house first. Such a hero. Him and Earnest both.
“No, nothing yet. He will report in as soon as the police have something to tell him. For now, I have him at the villa walking the dogs so Vittoria can calm herself. She gave both Signora Britta and Giada quite a difficult time insisting that she come to see her favorite student.”
“She’s an angel,” I whispered, wondering if I should not have mentioned heavenly things when we had no clue when Vittoria might become one.
“Yes, that she is. She and I have been the best of friends for many years. My heart will break when she joins our father in heaven,” she confided, a rare admission for the stately, stoic woman. “But for now, she is having a light dinner with Donvino’s grandmother. Giada and Alessio will come after things are quiet at the villa to see their grandson. Giada was beside herself with worry for the boy. She prayed for both of you.”
“Huh, I wasn’t sure she would pray for me since I led Donvino down such a prickly path.”
“Your ribald humor is ill-placed, Arlo.”
“Sorry, my back burns, my ankle hurts, and I’m hungry.”
“We will ring the nurse to bring some food.” She waved at the little gizmo resting beside me. I pushed a few buttons. Within seconds, a pudgy woman in sparkling white appeared at my bedside. Dinner was ordered via the nurse who took my vitals and left the room after helping me to pee in a bottle. It was humiliating but better than having a catheter. Once the curtain was back in place, I glanced past my aunt who had returned to her book to see dark, dark clouds blotting out the sun. I sat up straighter, wincing at the pull at the mega-sunburn on my back, and watched as a splatter of rain hit the large window. Then another. Then another. Then another. Thunder rolled. It was a deep growl accompanied by a bolt of lightning that lit up the evening sky.
“It’s raining.” Talk about stating the obvious. My aunt nodded, her eyes leaving her novel to watch the storm moving low and slow over Florence. “Where was this rain last night? Maybe it would have helped with the fires.” My mind kept leaping back to the flames chasing us, the heat scalding our backs, the swim through the sluggish river. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Are you sure none of the workers were harmed?”
“I am sure. All the people who showed up to fight the fire are safe. They finally extinguished the last of the flames just two hours ago, according to the last call from Lowell. The police are now making a full investigation into what took place. We have turned over all the security footage to law enforcement. You look piqued still. Place your worry aside, Arlo. Lowell is making our wishes known to the police that we wish to have answers to our questions quickly.”
I stared at her for a long moment. “You suspect foul play.”
She nodded. Her neat hair sprayed so well it didn’t budge. “I do. There was no lightning last night to spark things. And two fires in different places seem unnatural to me. I have suspicions. That is all I will say for now. Please, try to rest until your dinner arrives.”
Rest she says. As if a mind as active as mine would just shut down and—
I woke up to the door of my room opening. I blinked at the shape entering as my stomach growled loudly. Right, dinner. This was probably the night nurse delivering food for Donvino and me.
“Finally,” my aunt said as the shape bustled into the room. I yawned, throat dry and sore, and pushed myself up to sit, eyes bleary, the room darkened with just a small light for my aunt to read by sitting on the table next to her.
“The storms over Florence stalled our landing,” my father replied, tossing a wet coat to the floor to stride over to the bed. “Arlo, oh my gods, my son.”
“Dad,” I managed to squeak out before I was in his arms. Tears started to flow. And here I thought I’d wept them all away. I burrowed my face into his neck, more desperate for this embrace than I could have possibly known. Wind whipped a torrent of rain into the side of the Hospital of the Blessed Lady of Lourdes as we clung to each other. He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands, his dark eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Arlo, my boy, you’re okay, yes?” he asked, his carefully cultured American accent slipping as he looked me over as if he were able to suss out injuries with his x-ray vision or something.
“I’m okay, Dad, just sore mostly,” I replied, throat thick with emotion. I cleared it and he took the plastic cup of water Ginerva passed to him.
“Drink, where is the doctor?” he asked as he pushed the cup into my hand, his voice losing the quaver it had for a moment. “Did he come in today to examine the boys?”
“He will make rounds soon. Stop blustering, you will wake Donvino,” Ginerva chided.
“I’m awake,” I heard Donvino say, his words scratchy still. I wiggled about to glance around my father to my boyfriend. A sight for sore eyes if ever there was one. Yes, he was haggard, scratched up, and talking like a frog, but he was alive. “Forgive me for intruding into a family moment,” he added and coughed up a nasty black slug.
“You are just as much family as anyone who carries the Bonetti name,” my father announced, giving my cheek a pat before walking over to hug Donvino. “You saved my son’s life and for that, I am eternally in your debt,” he said as he clasped Donvino to him. “Ask and it is yours.”
“I need no thanks, Signor Bonetti. I love your son. I would run through fires every day for him,” Donvino replied and then fell into a coughing fit that winded him badly. Dad released him, looked at my aunt, and then went to find the doctor. He met the nurse coming in with our dinners, late as it was, and directed her to check us both closely, for he did not like the way Donvino sounded. I threw a wobbly smile at my boyfriend.
“See where I get my bossy genes from?” I asked with a wave of my hand at my aunt and father who had the good graces to look a little ashamed.
Donvino nodded softly, his eyes warm as he looked at me over his meal. We ate well, the food was delicious, obviously purchased and delivered from a restaurant for us. Not going to lie, being rich and powerful had some bennies. Dad and Ginerva talked as we chowed down. The conversation was mostly about the fire and their suspicions about what had started them. The longer they talked, the more I wondered if something evil had visited us last night.
“Excuse me, signora and signor,” Donvino said, wiping at his mouth with a cloth napkin that had come with the meal. “Are you suspecting foul play?”
“I’m suspecting it, yes, Donvino, and please, call me Tommaso. You and my son are dating. You got him out of a burning building before getting yourself out. You helped him to the river, into it, and across it, then hoisted him to safety on the other side. If that does not earn you the right to use my first name, I honestly do not know what would,” Dad stated matter-of-factly.
I nodded, sipped at the cool nectarine juice bottle that had come with our food, and glanced at Donvino. My boyfriend seemed uncomfortable with such familiarity but inclined his head.
