JOE
Ella and I were relieved to be back in Palm Beach. The nightmare of Palermo was behind us, and we were ready to get on with our lives. Mario was never charged for the murder of Abriana. Her body was never found—his police contact paid his debt. Mario left Palermo. The town held too many memories for him. He met a lovely woman while on holiday abroad. Last we heard of our bubbly buddy, he was up to his eyeballs in babies and Pina Coladas.
Fabio flew back to an eager Bria, while Ella and I traveled back to the US a week later. Before we’d left, Gino and I had a conversation. He’d come clean on many things, such as treating me harshly and trying to insert himself into the Coli pecking order. He apologized for his mother’s action, even though he denied having any knowledge about it. We agreed to disagree and made peace. I wasn’t convinced that it would be the end of our differences, but I decided to let sleeping dogs lie.
I was overjoyed to have my Ella back home safely. She’d spoken to the powers that be at the university, who, after learning of her terrible ordeal, insisted that she take a leave of absence for a year. They were afraid to lose her as an integral part of the academic team. Ella was grateful and relieved. She was very passionate and accomplished when it came to botany. I was happy for her and very proud.
Her pregnancy was a tenuous one. She was in and out of the hospital a few times. The doctor warned us that a miscarriage wouldn’t be uncommon considering the trauma during the first trimester of her pregnancy. I felt for my wife. She was so brave, never complained, and she soldiered on. Halfway through the second trimester, Alicia came to stay. I was relieved to have her at the house when I was at the office.
Fabio and I grew even closer, if that was possible, after our experience in Palermo. We spent as much time together as couples as we could. The bond between us was strong. After the threat of losing the ones you love, we were grateful for each other.
Bria spent a small fortune on baby clothes—more than enough for twins. I asked Fabio when they were planning on having children. He smiled and said, ”I thought I’d see how you guys fair first. Let you two make all the new parents’ mistakes first. Then, Bria and I will swoop in and show you how it’s done.”
“That’s a very calculated move, my horny friend. There’s just one factor you haven’t taken into consideration.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“Bria’s biological clock. Tick Tock, Tick Tock. Before you can say ‘nursing bra’ Bria will have you cornered.”
“Bloody Italian women! All incubators!”
We laughed hysterically as we spoke about late-night feeds and changing diapers. The scariest part of the conversation was the very real possibility that sex would become a scarce commodity. That’s when we decided to have a double whiskey and change the subject. The discussion had run its ugly course.
As Ella progressed in her pregnancy, it was my job to leave the house in the middle of the night on a mission to find watermelon, anchovies, and ice cream. I wondered what had happened to my sensible, reasonable wife. The woman ate like a locust. The best thing about her pregnancy was, without a doubt, the size of her ever growing breasts. I considered kissing them as payment for my late-night trips to God knows where. It was a fair tradeoff.
Life was returning back to normal. The nursery was filled with the best baby paraphernalia Italy and America could offer. My mother sent boxes filled with clothes, fluffy toys, and diapers. Between the three ladies, Ella would be set for sextuplets. I found myself assembling cots, feeding chairs, walking rings, and stenciling the high reaching places in the baby room. Nothing like a pregnant wife to keep a husband on his toes.
As her due date approached, neither one of us got much quality sleep. Every case of indigestion was an emergency drive to the ER. I could drive the route to the hospital with my eyes closed—sometimes, I was so tired I thought I had.
When Alicia called me in a panic, I dropped what I was doing and burned rubber on the highway. It was way too early for this.
***
My heart was pounding so hard I could see it hammering under my shirt. Ella was lying on the operating table, a mesh of tubes everywhere, heart rate monitor beeping. Then, it went quiet. Did someone switch the monitor off by mistake? What was happening? Fast action ensued. The surgeon said something to the nurse, who grabbed the scalpel and handed it to him very quickly. I held my breath as he made an incision in her abdomen. I heard the ripping sound he made when he opened the uterus just enough to pull our son out.
He handed the baby to the pediatrician, who rushed him off to the corner of the room to help him take his first breath. The monitor was making a continuous sound, and when I turned back to where Ella was lying, I watched in horror as the doctor was trying to resuscitate my wife. I tried to move closer to her, but the theatre nurse stopped me.
“Please, Mr. Coli, we need you to wait outside while we tend to your wife. Now, please!”
She half shunted me out the room where I stood, cemented to the
