All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 10

Dodging bicycles and pedestrians, skirting front stoops and flower pots, it was a miniature taxi making its way toward us, maneuvering the narrow streets with the finesse that only comes from years of experience. Granted, the car was tiny; I was surprised to discover it had four doors. It pulled up to the doorway across the street from us and Madalina released Paulo as she called out, waving both hands over her head.

"Isa! Come, per favore!"

Oh no. I closed my eyes in defeat again. I was going to be subject to more humiliation, more questions, and more time spent away from bed.

The lovely Mrs. Adimari paid the cab driver, who scuttled off down the lane, and then she crossed over to us after checking for traffic. What traffic, I wondered. Cyclists? Purple-suited mad hatters? The ruffles at the deep neckline of her blouse fluttered up around her cheeks as she approached, and I wondered how she didn't turn an ankle braving the uneven stones in those heels.

She listened attentively while Madalina, who'd gone back to stroking Paulo's left bicep, presumably explained the circumstances around my condition. Paulo confirmed the Romanian girl's words with nods and agreeable murmurings—I tried not to gag—then told Mrs. Adimari what I could only assume was a quick rundown of his version of things. All three of them kept throwing concerned glances my way.

I lowered my chin to my chest, studying the crisscross pattern of the threads in the cheesecloth wrapped around my hands, and thought about a bottle of whiskey. Not that I ever drank, but right now might be a fine time to start. At least it would take the edge off my pain, according to every cowboy in every Western I'd ever watched with my dad.

"Ani?" Madalina placed both palms flat on the table and dipped her head to catch my eye.

The look on her face was genuine concern, and then my eyes were burning, my nose tingling, and I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat. I spoke around it, my voice catching on it. "I—I need to go lie down, Madalina. I'm not fee—feeling so well."

I dropped my gaze again in the silence that followed my stuttered admission, and then Mrs. Adimari was in front of me, crouching in her short gray pencil skirt, a fine-boned hand on my black jeans.

"My name is Isadora. Isa."

"I'm Ani." I was mortified to meet her under these circumstances. Up close, she was even more glamorous with her mocha skin and her makeup and hair all understated elegance. I, on the other hand, was once again at my worst, but this time, no amount of coffee, per her orders or not, was going to set things right for me.

"You must go to the doctor. Madalina says you cannot walk. Perhaps your foot is broken?"

"I don't think so." I shook my head quickly. "I think I just twisted it. I need to put some ice on it and rest, that's all."

"Wheesht!" Madalina shrieked. "Ice! How could I forget?" She turned and bustled back into the bakery. Paulo offered Isa a chair, then drew another one up and sat down, leaning forward in front of me, his elbows resting on his knees. I didn't look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me.

"Ani, you should see the doctor." He spoke softly, but firmly.

I glared at stones between his feet. These people were ganging up on me.

"I—I don't know." My ankle did hurt like crazy, and fear was starting to introduce itself in a very persistent manner.

"Mrs. Adimari has a good suggestion," he cajoled, smiling encouragingly at me. He seemed so much more relaxed now. Maybe he was warming up to me.