Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I have no way of telling the time, but I’m guessing the sun sets around five or six. It’s been dark for a long time before headlights creep over the hill and fall on the house.
I wait on the threshold as Heidi gets out of the car and takes a shopping bag from the back.
Her broad smile slips as she nears. “What’s wrong?”
“You better not come inside.”
She drops the bag on the veranda step. “Did something happen?”
“Lice.”
“What?” she asks with a shriek.
“Yep. I got products to wash my hair and spray the mattress, but I have to boil the bedding.”
“Oh my God.” She clasps a hand over her mouth. “This is terrible. Wait.” She lowers her hand. “Where did you get products?”
“At the pharmacy in the village.”
Her mouth falls open. “You walked there?”
“It’s not that far.”
“But…” She shakes her head. “How did you pay?”
“I didn’t.” I bite my lip. “I offered to pay with a service, but the lady ended up giving me the products for free. She wasn’t very happy about that though. I should probably go back and give her the money.”
Her lips flatten. “Did she wear ugly black glasses and too much make-up?”
“That sounds like her.”
“Helene Campana, the local pharmacist.” She adds with disdain, “The woman has always been tight-fisted.”
“Well, it wasn’t her duty to give me the treatment for free.”
She locks her jaw as she picks up the bag and charges up the steps. “A bit of charity won’t do her any harm. It may even win her a little grace in the eyes of the Almighty.”
“What are you doing?” I ask with alarm as she moves around me.
Putting the bag down, she snorts. “Do you think I’m scared of a few lice?”
“You should be.”
She shuts the door and turns to me with a chuckle. “I’ve dealt with worse. Let me see.” She grips my shoulders and spins me around. “Did you do the back of your head?”
“I tried my best.”
She parts my hair with her fingers. “I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re all gone. We better make sure, just to be on the safe side.”
“Maybe we should cut my hair.”
“Nonsense.” She releases me. “There’s no need to be so radical. We’ll get those rascals, don’t you worry.” She shrugs off her coat, all efficiency and determination. “Bring me those products.”
“Thank you, Heidi.” And I don’t only mean for helping me. She doesn’t know how much I need her kindness.
“Don’t mention it,” she says, waving my gratitude away.
A short while later, I’m sitting on the floor in the kitchen while she combs the oil through my hair.
“Who lived here?” I ask, unable to squash my curiosity.
She sighs. “The late Mrs. Russo’s family.”
I glance at her from over my shoulder. “Angelo’s mother’s family?”
“They’re a different lot.” Focusing on the task at hand, she briefly meets my gaze. “Not from good stock.”
A memory of what my sister said about Angelo’s family enters my mind. She told me they were bad people, and she didn’t mean only in the moral sense. She compared them to a kid in my class who always had a ring of dirt on his neck. Poor Isaac. It wasn’t his fault his parents didn’t keep him clean. He was a bright, kind-hearted boy.
“Where are they now?” I ask.
Disdain fills her voice. “They moved back to their tents and shacks in that dump they call a camp.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Who knows? Some people are too set in their ways to change. Angelo had this house built especially for them. You’d think they’d be grateful.” She adds with a scoff, “All they did was steal everything and ruin the place.” Then, muttering to herself, “Who keeps goats on a veranda?”
That explains the lack of appliances and furniture as well as the manure encrusted on the tiles outside.
“The people in the village detest them,” she continues. “They’re probably glad the scoundrels left. The only one who was happy about having them here was Angelo.”
“What about his mother? How did she feel about all of this?”
“Poor woman.” Heidi crosses herself. “Bless her soul. She never knew. Angelo didn’t have a chance to tell her. Before he could, the accident happened.”
My heart constricts, its beats falling painfully in my ribcage.
No, not an accident.
Feeling bad for deceiving Heidi, I remain quiet. I truly am the traitor Angelo accused me of being.
“We better not say anything about your visit to the village,” she says. “Mr. Russo won’t be happy.”
I thought as much. Not that he left me a choice. “Will you be able to bring me a phone? And some money? In case something happens again.”
Her hand stills in my hair. “You’ll have to ask Mr. Russo about that.”
“Of course.”
I drop the subject, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
While she works, I reflect on the information she shared. Thanks to her revelation, I’m two things wiser. The first is that Angelo is obviously despised in the village for more than his brutal reputation. His family on his mother’s side brought him shame. The second realization is the one that hits me the hardest. He built a house for them—a stunning, enormous, sea-facing house.