All the Way to Heaven

Chapter 43

We meandered our way back toward Lucca, taking roads that kept the two-mile stretch of the aqueduct in sight, ending at another temple-cistern, the San Concordio, just outside the city walls. We didn't get out of the truck, as we were running a little later than we'd planned, and we didn't want Cristofano to think we'd stood him up.

Celia and Cristofano lived conveniently close by, and when we arrived at their tiny apartment, we were warmly welcomed by both mother and son, although I could see the wary concern in his eyes. Celia offered us espresso and crunchy almond flavored cookies, and the four of us sat around a tiny table in her bright yellow kitchen while Cristofano manned up and apologized to me for taking my purse. Celia had apparently already been brought up to date since her Sunday phone call to Paulo, but her eyes still filled with tears as her son asked me to forgive him. She remained silent while he spoke, though, as did Paulo, and I sensed the pride in both of them at the steps Cristofano was taking to make things right.

I turned down his offer to work off the expense of replacing my purse and all that was in it, partly because I had no idea what he could do for me in the short time I was here. "My passport was the most important thing," I reassured him, glancing at Paulo to make sure I wasn't letting the kid off the hook too easily.

When we left a little less than an hour later, I had two new friends in Italy. Celia hugged me warmly and told me I was welcome in their home any time, and even Cristofano gave me a one-armed side hug, thanking me for being so kind. From the corner of my mouth, I told him Paulo had threatened to break my other leg if I didn't come today. The boy laughed and agreed that Paulo was indeed a very cruel slave master.

"Celia is Madalina's friend I told you about earlier," Paulo said, once we were settled in the truck again. "About a year ago, Madalina caught Cristofano trying to steal from l'Aurora and made him call his mother, thinking it would be more effective than calling the police." He smiled, obviously enjoying some aspect of the memory. "Madalina invited them to church where they spoke to the pastor to see if there was any way the church could help. I was just getting ready to launch my program, so he connected them to me."

"That's quite a coincidence that you all ended up at the same church." I wasn't being facetious. It kind of blew me away a little.

He squeezed my hand, his long fingers laced with mine. "Remember. I do not believe in coincidence."

"Right."

"Cristofano was one of the first boys in my program and he was a lot of trouble. Angry, disrespectful, and very rude to his mother. There were many times I almost gave up on the program because of him; I did not think I was making any difference."

I was having a hard time juxtaposing the kid I'd just met with the one Paulo was describing.

"But no one is without hope, Ani. No one. Cristofano is proof of that."

"Right," I said again. "Hey, Paulo?" He'd brought up the subject, and after the day we'd just spent together, and the agreement we'd made about being honest, I had to ask.

"Yes?"

"Did you and Madalina...were you two ever together?"

Paulo let go of my hand and slid his arm around me, pulling me up against his side. "We went out a couple times, yes. But we knew very quickly that we would be much better together as friends. She is like a sister to me, Ani. That is all."

I couldn't help it. I actually sighed blissfully.

I soon discovered that Paulo's "favorite place to eat in Lucca" was at home with his aunt and uncle and their two boys, Dominic, Jr. and Ramon. My first clue was when he pulled into a dark, narrow alley and parked so close to the back of a building we both had to get out on my side of the truck. "To make room for any other vehicle passing by," he explained. Even so, I wasn't sure there was enough room for that. I stood by with my crutches as he stashed the wheelchair inside the cab of the truck and locked it up, assuring me I'd be fine without it. He held open the back door of the building for me, following close behind as I maneuvered into the small foyer of an apartment building, complete with a set of steep stairs leading practically straight up.