All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 28

The wheelchair, much to our relief, collapsed easily, and was not too heavy for Isa to hoist into the back of her Fiat. I didn't know how she managed to not kill herself in the shoes she wore, but if ever anyone looked elegant tossing wheelchairs, it was Isa. The weather was gorgeous and on the ride in, I asked her about Cosimo and her mother and their relationship.

She nodded for a few moments after I asked, as though she knew it was something she must explain, but needed the time to compile the information in her head before saying anything wrong.

"Cosi, he is almost twenty years younger than mama. He was six when I was born. My grandmother was very old when she became pregnant with him and she did not survive his birth. So Mama, still living at home, took both her papa and her baby brother home as new lady of the house."

"Oh, dear."

"Yes, but it turned out for the best in many ways. You see, Mama was secretly in love with my father, who was foreman for the frantoio de Lazzaro. She was afraid my grandfather would not want her to marry only a foreman, but with the birth of Cosi and the death of his wife, he was happy to have Mama stay close to home and take the hand of a man who loved the olives as much as any Lazzaro ever could. I believe he must have seen the love Papa has for mother, too." She smiled, clearly enjoying the telling of the family love story.

I sighed dreamily in the midday sun, the cool breeze outside the car window blowing my curls every which way. I didn't care. I felt relaxed and empowered by the bittersweet tale of love and loss.

"But the story does not end there. My grandfather, who loved Cosi very much, was also elderly, and when Cosi was seven years old, and I was only a baby, he died, too. So, my parents became legal guardians to Cosi." She paused before adding, "It is why he became a doctor, I believe, to find a way to stop death." Then she turned to glance at me as though to see if I was paying attention. I straightened, realizing she was perhaps saying more than just the words she was using. "With plastic surgery, his patients never have to grow old. Or at least they grow old much more slowly, yes?"

"I see. So does he like being a doctor? Would he rather work with the olives?" The logistics of that with Franco so ensconced seemed insurmountable.

"Oh, no. Cosi would be happy never to pick another olive again in his life. Papa and Mama are in charge of everything, including the house itself, and Cosi prefers it that way. When he came home from medical school in Milan, he moved into the pool house. That's where he stays when he comes. Mama converted it into a home for him while he was at university."

I looked at her in surprise. Well, that explained his sweaters being stored at the pool house.

"Cosi's passion, as Paulo said, is to heal. All his life, he fixed wounded animals, he wanted to see every injury and to understand lo scheletro, the bones, and the flesh. I think that he finds his power, his fire, when he helps someone who is hurting."

"So why cosmetic surgery?" I didn't understand the psychology behind cosmetic surgery, but I assumed that was because I was young and fairly satisfied with what I'd been born with. I knew of others who suffered horribly, though, usually at the words and hands of others, because of uniquely proportioned bodies and unusual features. I could at least empathize with that, but I felt more strongly about changing people's behavior than about changing people's physical qualities.

"Even the rich men and women who come to him to have new body parts exchanged for the old ones that are hurting in some way, don't you think? Cosi understands that and treats them with respect. He helps them to keep their dignity when many people would condemn them for wanting to change things." She moved her shoulders in a way that indicated she didn't completely ascribe to his way of thinking, but that she understood his reasoning. "But there is also money in cosmetic surgery, Ani, and it is much of Cosi's financial support that keeps the frantoio de Lazzaro in business, especially in times like this.