Her brain was a flip book.
Anthony’s frightened face on TV.
Nonni slumped against the wall, feet cocked at a sickening angle.
Flashing lights, Nonni strapped to a stretcher, disappearing into the back of an ambulance.
The blank TV.
She couldn’t stop the images flashing through her mind.
Mom and Dad were at the hospital, and Nella was in charge of the boys. Vinny and Bobby were parked in front of some idiotic TV show. Vinny’s head rested on Bobby’s belly. Bobby sucked his thumb and absentmindedly twirled his little brother’s silky hair. They were a two-man comfort machine, and Nella yearned to lie down with them. Instead, she washed dishes, folded laundry. Prayed. She was exhausted and electrified at the same time, and her useless brain kept flashing like an appliance on the blink. Holding the phone, she stepped out on the porch. Salvatore and Kevin raced toward the house.
“Is Nonni dead?” cried Kevin, panting.
“No! Don’t even say that!”
“Anthony DeMarco shot a guy dead,” he said, like being dead was contagious. “He shot him right between the eyes.”
“In the stomach,” Salvatore corrected. “And he’s not dead yet.”
“There was blood all over the sidewalk!”
“They washed it off.” Salvatore swallowed. “But you can still tell.”
“Anthony’s in jail,” Kevin said. “Angela’s crying her head off.”
“You saw her?”
“No, but I bet she is.”
They looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell them it was okay, it would be all right. Nella, who spent half her life wishing they’d vaporize, felt helpless and terrible. She was letting them down.
“It was at Mrs. Manzini’s house,” said Salvatore.
“What?”
This had to be wrong. Mrs. Manzini? Nella had just seen her at the Feast, her and her little girl dragging the blankie. Buona festa! they sang. They were not the kind of people to have a shoot-out in their front yard. Blood on their sidewalk. Her knees went weak.
“The black guy banged on their door,” said Salvatore.
How could he know so much more than she did? The phone in Nella’s hand rang. She’d forgotten she was even holding it, and a tiny scream flew out of her. Both brothers jumped in fright.
It was their mother’s cell.
What if Nonni died? The world faded, all its colors bleaching away. Everything went flimsy, even the massive wall of the cemetery.
The phone kept ringing. As long as Nella didn’t answer, Nonni was alive. Her brothers gaped at her.
“Answer!” said Salvatore.
How could she ever have gotten upset over things like being too tall or having too many brothers? How could she ever have wished Nonni would disappear? All the vengeful things she’d done, like pretending she couldn’t find Nonni’s remote or favorite black sweater, lying to Ernestina that Nonni couldn’t come to the phone when she’d been waiting all day for her friend to call. How could Nella have done that? How could she have been so stupid and selfish?
Salvatore grabbed the phone and hit talk. She grabbed it back.
“Nella! At last!”
“Mom!”
“Nonni had a stroke. It’s serious, but they think she’ll pull through. Nella?”
“Oh. Oh!”
“Is Nonni okay?” asked Salvatore.
Nella nodded, and Kevin threw his arms around her middle as if she’d saved Nonni. Crazy love flooded through her. Fierce, feverish, big-sister love. She’d never get mad at them again, no matter what they did. Never, ever would she take people she loved for granted as long as she lived.
“It’s so lucky you were there,” Mom was saying. “The doctor says quick treatment saved her life. What were you doing there so early? Never mind, tell me later. I’m coming soon. Wait. . . .”
Nella heard her father’s voice in the background. Her mother got back on. “Dad says to tell you how proud he is of you, Bella.”
Nella croaked something and hung up. Kevin wriggled away from her, and already her relief started to ebb. The only reason she was there so early this morning was she was too late last night. Why didn’t Nonni call Mom and Dad last night when Nella didn’t show up? Maybe she was already getting sick, while Nella lounged on Clem’s couch, sipping mango fizzy water and dreaming of a silver evening gown.
The cemetery wall once again rose straight and blunt, no longer flimsy. She was not a hero. Saving Nonni was a big fat accident.
A yellow-flecked bird swooped over the cemetery wall and vanished among the trees. Salvatore and Kevin went inside, letting the screen door bang behind them.
Clem’s cell phone went straight to her message.
“You’ve reached me in a galaxy far far away—if only!”
Clem would listen. She’d sympathize and try to help, but she wouldn’t understand. She barely knew Nonni. All she knew was that Nonni enjoyed making Nella’s life miserable.
Angela. She was the one who’d understand. Angela was practically an honorary great-grandchild.
Now it came rushing back. Anthony. Anthony shot someone.
Inside, Vinny was crying. Nella wiped his runny nose, fed him lunch, read to him till he fell asleep. When Mom finally got home, she was a wreck. Nonni couldn’t talk. Her left side was useless. She was too fragile for surgery and it was too soon to say if she’d recover.
“How much, I mean,” Mom corrected herself. “Not if.”
Was that supposed to be a smile? Mom was a relentless optimist, so seeing her this upset was scary. Vinny staggered into the room, rubbing his eyes, and Mom cuddled him.
“Why did the stroke happen?” Afraid as she was of the answer, Nella had to ask.
“We don’t know. She takes medication for her high blood pressure.” Mom’s voice broke, and Vinny patted her cheek, murmuring incomprehensible comfort. “The doctor said sometimes an emotional upset can trigger a stroke, but that can’t be. Nonni’s always upset!”
Mom said they needed to wait till the swelling in the brain went down before they knew more. Nella imagined a brain inflating like a pink blister. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head as if it was hers.