she could hear people talking quietly. Dishes rattled in the kitchen, the girls cleaning up. She blew out a breath. “It was moderate severity. She had some damage, and there are some restrictions on what she can do. Changes she needs to make.”
“What kind of changes?” He thrust his hands in his pockets and paced. “I can’t believe she had a heart attack and I didn’t know. Why didn’t you call me?”
“It’s her business what she tells people.”
His mouth twisted to one side. “C’mon, Lace.”
“I’m serious. Patients have the right to confidentiality. I couldn’t breach that. In fact,” she said, stricken, “I probably shouldn’t have told you even now.”
“You’re my friend. You can tell me as a friend. Now, what kind of changes? What does she need to do to get back on her feet?”
She perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair. “You can probably guess. It’s a lot about diet. She needs to start a gentle exercise program. I have her walking around the block twice a day.”
He stared. “Nonna’s walking? Like, for exercise?”
“I know, right?” She smiled a little. “It wasn’t easy to talk her into it. I make sure we have an interesting destination.”
“How did you get so involved?”
She let her forehead sink down into her hand for just a second, then looked back up. Vito. He’d never take her seriously. He’d always been a big brother to her, and he always would be.
He held up a hand. “I’m not questioning it, Lacey. I’m grateful. And I feel awful having been out of the loop, not helping her. I’ve had lots of personal stuff going on, but that’s no excuse.”
His words flicked on a switch of interest in her, but she ignored it. “I worked her hall at the hospital, and since she knew me, we talked. She was worried about coming home alone, but she didn’t want to bother you, and your brother’s far away. I was looking to make a change, anyway, moving toward freelance home care so I could have time to finish renovating this place.” She waved an arm toward the unfinished breakfast area, currently walled off with sheets of plastic.
“So you made a deal with her.” He still sounded a little skeptical.
“Yes, if that’s what you want to call it.” She stood, full of restless energy, and paced over to the fireplace, rearranging the collection of colored glass bottles on the mantel. “She’s had a lot of anxiety, which is common in people recovering from a heart attack. She’s on several new medications, and one of them causes fatigue and dizziness. The social worker was going to insist on having her go to a nursing home for proper care, which she couldn’t afford, so this was a good arrangement.” She looked over at him, mentally daring him to question her.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “A nursing home. Wow.”
“It wouldn’t have suited her.”
“For how long? How long do you think she’ll need the extra care?”
Lacey shrugged, moved an amber bottle to better catch the sun. “I don’t know. Usually people take a couple of months to get back up to speed. And your brother’s happy to pay for as long as we need.”
Vito’s dark eyebrows shot up. “She told him and not me?”
“She said you’d find out soon enough, when you came back home.”
“And he’s paying for everything?”
“He felt bad, being so far away, and apparently he begged her to let him help. Look, if you want to make a change in her care, I totally understand.” It would mess up her own plans, of course; she’d given notice at the hospital only when she had this job to see her through, so if Nonna left, she’d have to apply for a part-time job right away. But Nonna was improving daily. If she had Vito with her, and he could focus on her needs, she’d probably be fine. A lot of her anxiety and depression stemmed from loneliness and fear.
Truth was, Lacey had found the older woman a hedge against her own loneliness, as her brother had gotten more and more involved in his wedding plans.
Now Buck and Gina and their dogs would be living in a little cottage on the other side of town. She’d see them a lot, but it wouldn’t be the same as having Buck living here. “Whatever you decide,” she said. “For now, we’d better go reassure your grandma, and then I need to attend to the rest of my guests.”
* * *
Vito followed Lacey back into his grandmother’s room, his mind reeling. Nonna had mostly raised him and his brother, Eugene, after their parents’ accident, and she was one of the few family members he had left. More to the point, he was one of her only family members, and he should have been here for her.
Everyone treated him like he was made of glass, but the fact was, he was perfectly healthy on the inside. His surgeries had been a success, and his hearing loss was corrected with state-of-the-art hearing aids, courtesy of the VA.
He just looked bad.
And while the scars that slashed across his face, the worse ones on his chest, made it even more unlikely that he’d achieve his dream of marriage and a large family, he couldn’t blame his bachelorhood entirely on the war. Women had always liked him, yes—as a friend. And nothing but a friend. He lacked the cool charisma that most women seemed to want in a boyfriend or husband.
Entering his grandmother’s room, he pulled up a chair for Lacey, and then sat down on the edge of Nonna’s bed, carefully, trying not to jolt her out of her light doze. He was newly conscious that she was pale, and thinner than she’d been. A glance around the attractive bedroom revealed a stash of pill bottles he hadn’t noticed before.
Nonna’s eyes fluttered open and she reached out.
He caught her hand in his. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”
She pursed her lips and glared at Lacey. “You told him about my heart.”
“Yes, I told him! Of course I told him!” Lacey’s voice had a fond but scolding tone. “You should have let him know yourself, Nonna. I thought you had.”
He squeezed his grandmother’s hand. “Don’t you know I would’ve dropped everything and come?”
Nonna made a disgusted noise. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You and your brother have your own lives to lead. And I was able to find a very good arrangement on my own.” She smiled at Lacey.
“It is a good arrangement, and I’m glad for it.” Vito glanced over at Lacey, who had gotten up to pour water into a small vase of flowers.
With its blue-patterned wallpaper, lamp-lit bedside table and a handmade quilt on the bed, the room was cozy. Through the door of the small private bathroom, he glimpsed handicapped-accessible rails and a shower seat.
Yes, this was a good situation for her. “Look, I want to take you back to the house, but we’ll wait until you’re a little better.”
Nonna started to say something, and then broke off,
