The Last Promise (11 page)

She had been, hadn’t she? She had been the first runner-up in the Miss Vernal Pioneer Days beauty pageant. The thought made her grin. Even then she had hated the idea of the thing: women being judged like cattle (in fact they were paraded before the judges on the same reinforced plywood stage the cattle were brought up on an hour later; same judges too). But at the time it was what all girls did. She didn’t know which was more pathetic: that she had participated in the pageant or that she now looked to it for validation.

She took a sip of her tea, then set the cup to the side of the tub and stepped into the water. It was too hot, but bearable. She turned off the faucet then let herself slowly slip into the porcelain tub until it covered all of her body up to her neck. Then she bent her knees and slid deeper into the water until it was on her chin. She closed her eyes and let the water soothe her. She just wanted to dissolve into the hot water, like sugar. Into something else. Something that didn’t hurt or tire or bruise.
Another day in paradise,
she thought. And then, a few minutes later, as her thoughts began to calm, she heard Alessio’s cry.

—Italian Proverb

 

 

 

 

 

R
oss had only taken three bites of his dinner when there was forceful pounding on his front door. He got up from his dinner and opened the door to find Eliana standing there. Her hair was stringy and wet and she was wearing a light jacket over a nightshirt. Her face was bent with desperation.

“Can you help me? I need to get my son to the hospital.” She sounded panicked.

“I only have a scooter.”

“My car’s already out front. My son’s inside.” Ross followed her out. A forest green BMW was idling outside the villa’s walls, its headlamps illuminated. She slid into the back of the car, lifting Alessio’s head onto her lap. Ross climbed into the driver’s seat and quickly oriented himself to the controls.

“Hurry, please. He can’t breathe.”

Ross grabbed the gearshift then looked back over his shoulder to turn the car around and saw the little boy. He reminded Ross of a fish fallen out of its tank. The wheezing of his strained lungs was harrowing.

“Breathe, Alessio. Come on, son. Breathe easy, not too fast.” She took an inhaler from a small plastic sack. “You’ll be okay,” she said as she inserted the device into his mouth. “This will help. This will help.”

Ross spun the car around. He pulled out a little too quickly, and the back wheels spewed gravel as the car lurched forward, bouncing over the rough drive.

Ross said, “I’m sorry, I don’t know the way to the hospital.”

Her voice was controlled. “Turn right up ahead. Follow the road to Grassina. You know where Grassina is?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll take the first right turn at the roundabout. Please drive fast.”

Ross pressed further on the accelerator as she turned her attention back to her son. The cabin light was on and she could see that his lips were beginning to turn blue. She was losing him and she knew it. She was staring into her son’s eyes. “Come on, Alessio. Stay with me.”

Ross slowed where the dirt road met the asphalt of the main drive; then he pulled up onto the road. On the narrow but deserted country roads, he pushed the speedometer past a hundred kilometers per hour. Ross converted it in his mind: sixty-two miles per hour and change. Eliana was suddenly quiet, and on a straight-away he stole a glance in the mirror. Her eyes were closed.
She’s praying,
he thought.

They passed through two townships, where he slowed only slightly for the vacant intersections, then ran the red lights. At the Grassina roundabout he veered right and came around a slight bend. The hospital, a great, gray concrete structure, suddenly loomed ahead. A road sign read,
“Ospedale Santa Maria.” Saint Mary’s Hospital.

“The emergency room is up front. The first turn-off.” She pointed. “Right there.” Her voice was now trembling.

He raced the car up to where an orange-and-white ambulance was idling; then he screeched to a stop. Eliana flung her door open and began lifting her son out. Ross ran around the car, taking the child in his own arms. “I’ve got him. Just show me where to go.”

Eliana ran to the emergency doors with Ross after her. She yelled to the women in the lobby,
“Mio figlio ha un attacco d’asma, non respira.”

A nurse came running out and waved them forward. Just then Alessio went limp.

“He’s passed out,” Ross shouted.
“È svenuto!”

A doctor wearing hospital greens appeared at Ross’s side. He asked Ross in Italian, “Are you his father?”

“No.”

“I’m his mother,” Eliana said.

“How have you been treating him?”

“I’ve given him two doses of albuterol in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Get him into ICU. Nurse, get me an oxygen mask and a nebulizer. I need an IV of SoluMedrol. Get an oximeter on him,
subito
.”

A nurse placed an oxygen mask over Alessio’s face as they wheeled him into the ICU. Only Ross waited behind, standing outside the door as they all went inside. He stood for a moment wondering what to do before he walked out to the car and moved it from the emergency lane, parking it across the street in a lot. Then he came back in to wait for news.

—Italian Proverb

 

 

 

 

 

R
oss checked his watch. It was nearly a quarter of one. He sat alone on the vinyl sofa in the front lobby. He had been up since four-thirty and was fighting sleep. He had been at the hospital for nearly two hours and still hadn’t received word on the boy’s condition. It must mean good news, he thought. Hoped.

He had already read every magazine that held any interest for him, and now the lobby was deserted except for a gaunt, weary-looking man in custodial coveralls who dragged a mop across the marble floor. Ross would give it another hour; then he’d find someone with whom to leave her keys. He closed his eyes and lay back on the sofa.

Forty-five minutes later Eliana walked out of the ICU. She found Ross lying on the couch, his eyes closed. He was lightly snoring. She stood by him for a moment hoping he would wake at her presence. When he didn’t, she crouched down next to him. She realized that she had never really seen him up close. Even earlier that evening, standing in the doorway, she had not really seen him, as she had been too worried about Alessio.

His skin was clear but not without flaws and his face was rough with the shadow of beard growth. His hair, slightly curled, fell over his forehead. He had well-formed lips, full for a man, she thought, yet still masculine.
Bello
.

She reached over and gently touched his arm. His eyes fluttered open. It took him a moment to remember where he was.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Ross rubbed a hand across his face then sat up. “Hi. How is he?”

“He’s fine. He’s sleeping now.”

“That’s good,” Ross said, his voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry to leave you out here.”

“I have your keys.” He sat forward in the chair then extended his hand, smiling slightly. “I’m Ross.”

She smiled back as she took his hand. “This is a rather odd introduction. I’m Eliana.”

“Eliana. It’s a pleasure. Here, sit down.” Ross slid over on the sofa. Then he yawned again.

“I was up pretty early.”

“I’m so sorry. Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. What happened?”

“My son has asthma. He’s been congested the last few days and it triggered a severe attack. Usually the inhalers work, but tonight . . .”

She couldn’t speak and Ross saw that she was completely exhausted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Then tears began to well up in her eyes. Ross put one arm around her. “It’s okay. It’s your son.”

She laid her head against his shoulder and began to cry. Now that the emergency was over, all of her fear released and bubbled forth and she sobbed for several minutes. Ross put his other arm around her, pulling her into himself. When she could finally speak, she said, “It was just so close this time.”

“It was,” Ross said softly. “But he’s okay now. He’s okay.”

It was a few more minutes before she regained her composure and wiped her eyes with her hands. Ross grabbed a Kleenex from a nearby dispenser and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She dabbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know you.”

Ross smiled at her and she thought he had a gentle smile. “It’s okay, we’re neighbors. We
americani
need to stick together.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, I thought you were Italian.”

“Most people do. My husband is. I’m American. We’ve lived here for six years.”

Something inside of Ross stiffened at the word
husband
. Up to this point he hadn’t really known if she was married. There had been no sign of another man. Even the landlady had only spoken of the woman and child.
Of course she is,
he thought, and he didn’t know why it should even matter to him.

She wiped her eyes again, then folded the Kleenex. “I need to stay here with Alessio tonight. If you’d like to take the car back, we’ll take a taxi home.”

“No, I’ll take a cab. There’s a stand out front.”

“It might be hard finding a taxi this time of night. Or morning. What time is it?”

Ross looked down at his watch. “It’s almost two. But I have my cell phone; I can call a taxi. Besides I’d probably just get lost on the way back anyway.”

She looked at him gratefully. “Can I at least give you some cab money?”

“No.”

She sighed. “You’re a real saint. Thank you.”

“I’m no saint. But you’re welcome all the same.” He put his hand in his pocket and brought out the keys. “You’ll need these. Your car’s parked in the lot across the street, near the bus stop on the end of the row, you can’t miss it.”

She took the keys from him, touching his hand as she did, and for a moment she looked at him, as if she wanted, or needed, to say something, but realized that she just didn’t want him to go. She brushed the hair back from her face.

“I better get back to my son.”

“You have a place to sleep here?” Ross asked.

“They brought in a cot.” Her eyebrows lowered in concern. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

He smiled. “It’s no problem. I’ll see you back at the ranch.”

“Okay.
Ciao, ciao
. Good night, Ross.” She turned and walked back to the ICU. Ross watched her disappear behind the emergency room doors then went out to find a cab.