Miracle for the Girl Next Door

by Rebecca Winters

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Strange.”

  “Strange is good.”

  “Where’s my husband?”

  “In time you’ll be able to see everyone. Relax right now. Let the drugs do their job.”

  Between the anesthetic and other drugs being fed through the IV, she was feeling no pain, but the sight of the big machine next to her bed alarmed her.

  “Did something go wrong with the transplant?”

  The middle-aged woman smiled. “Don’t you remember Dr. Arno telling you it went perfectly?”

  “He did? Then why is the dialysis machine here?”

  “In case your new kidney doesn’t function right away. You probably don’t remember him explaining that to you either.” She gave Clara some pills to swallow. “Just take a few small sips.”

  “The water tastes good.”

  “Tomorrow you’ll be able to drink liquids. Depending on how you’re feeling, you’ll probably be able to eat a little bit, too. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “No, but I would like to see my husband.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll go back to the desk and see how soon a visit is allowed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before long she heard a familiar voice say her name. She opened her eyes. “Hi, Dr. Arno. The nurse told me everything went well.”

  A broad smile lit up his face. “It certainly did. You’re a very lucky woman.”

  She nodded. “There are so many people I need to thank. You most of all.”

  “Not most of all. Without a donor, this wouldn’t have been possible.”

  “I know.”

  “Before I let you talk to your husband, would you like to meet your donor?”

  “Meet?” she cried softly. “But Mamma and I thought someone must have…died.”

  “No. In your case this altruistic donor is very much alive and came through the surgery beautifully, too. He wanted to see the person who received his kidney, but we’ll only wheel him in for a moment.”

  Now that the transplant was over, the reality of the situation was overwhelming. She was about to meet the person who’d willingly given up a kidney for her? Clara couldn’t comprehend that kind of sacrifice. Not really. What did you say to someone who’d just granted you a longer life?

  Tears from too much emotion blurred her vision as she saw a woman pushing a man in a wheelchair. They came closer until she was able to make out his features.

  It was the handsome face of her beloved husband.

  She cried out his name on a sob. “Why did you do it? Why?”

  “Don’t you understand yet?” He was pushed as close to her as his wheelchair would allow. His intelligent brown eyes blazed with light. “I’m in love with you, darling. I think I was in love with you when we were children, but didn’t know it.”

  To finally hear those words from that deep, silken voice…

  More tears flowed down her cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you forever, but what if something happens one day and you’ll need the kidney you gave me?”

  “Then I’ll give him one of mine.”

  Clara lifted her eyes to the woman who’d just spoken and received a second shock. “Isabella—” She hadn’t realized.

  “Yes.” His sister smiled. “And if I find I need one, then Cristiano has pledged his to me. Because of you, Clara, our brother has found his happiness at last. This is what families are for, right? The Rossettis and the Casalis stick together.”

  On the fifth morning Valentino finished showering in preparation for leaving the hospital. Since their surgeries, he and Clara had been walking together, doing all kinds of exercises. They were more than ready to go.

  Dr. Arno made his rounds after breakfast and released them. Within the hour a hospital van would be driving them back to Monta Correnti. This day seemed to have taken forever to get here.

  As he was pulling on his tan chinos and a blue sport shirt he heard her call to him but it sounded muffled. He couldn’t tell if she was excited or upset about something.

  He emerged from his bathroom on a burst of adrenalin and found her standing by his bed.

  “Look!” She turned around, giving him an eyeful of her womanly figure. All the tubes and catheters were gone. No more IV stand. She looked incredible and was dressed in the same outfit she’d worn to the track in Monaco. Those green eyes glowed as if they were on fire.

  “Your kidney’s been working inside me from the time it was transplanted. No more dialysis!”

  It was the best news he’d ever heard. He took another step and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to apply too much pressure while their incisions were healing. “I’m glad I’ve been good for something around here,” he teased to cover his emotions.

  “Oh, Tino, I’m so happy and so terribly, terribly in love with you!” She raised her hungry mouth for his kiss. They were starving for each other. Dr. Arno had told him they had to wait two weeks to make love. Valentino didn’t know how he was going to hold out that long, not with a wife as passionate as Clara, but her comfort had to come first.

  They had other rules to follow. Exercise every day. Walk. The longer the walks, the better. No driving a car or motor scooter for three weeks. No heavy lifting until after four weeks.

  The fear that her body might reject his kidney had plagued both of them, but no longer. Naturally there was the possibility it might be rejected months or years later, but he refused to think about that right now. The different drugs she was taking were working.

  “Signor Casali? Signora? When you’re ready, the van is waiting for you at the south entrance downstairs.”

  Clara pulled away from him in embarrassment. Her face had gone a charming pink color. He would never tire of looking at her. Valentino had definitely come down with a serious case of love for his wife.

  The nurse had brought two wheelchairs.

  “Do we have to use them?” Clara asked her.

  “It’s hospital policy.”

  “Oh, all right,” she grumbled and sat down in one. Valentino sank into the other one and reached for her hand. When she looked at him, they both saw the humor in their predicament and started to chuckle. Soon she was laughing. The sound filled him with an excitement he’d never known in his life.

  After a short elevator ride, they were wheeled out to the van. The interior felt nice, comfortable. They thanked the staff for everything. Soon the attendant closed the sliding door and they were sealed off from the world for a while.

  She darted Valentino a mischievous glance. “I feel like I did when we were little children. I would wait and wait for the end of school so I could run outside and hide from you. Somehow you always found me when nobody else could.”

  “It wasn’t that hard.” He grinned. “Whenever I got close, your laughter gave you away. I was attracted to it.”

  “My laugh?” she asked in an incredulous voice.

  He nodded. “It has a happy quality. I liked being around you because of it. Don’t ever stop. I couldn’t take it.”

  “Tino—”

  They were seated across from each other. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, but he didn’t dare. After the hell she’d lived through, the thought of anything happening to her before they reached home was anathema to him.

  Being a race-car pro, he had a problem letting anyone else drive him. The one hair-raising experience with his wife had been the exception because he adored her. At the moment he needed to have faith in the van driver’s skill.

  Since he couldn’t hold her in his arms right now, he decided this would be a good time to tell her what Isabella had written in her e-mail. He already knew what Clara’s response would be. She was a peacemaker. How else would she have survived from birth with a twin like Silvio?

  Valentino’s relationship with her brother still needed work. It would make her happy if he found a way to ease the tension. He’d have to think about that one.

  “Tino?” she called out some time later. “For
give me for interrupting you, but the driver’s going the wrong way. He should have turned north.”

  “That’s true, if we were headed for the villa.”

  “But we’re not?”

  “I thought we’d do something different.”

  For once she looked baffled. “Are you taking us to your old house on the lake?”

  “No,” he drawled.

  She made a sound in her throat. “To the farm?”

  “That depends on which one.”

  Silence fell between them before her gorgeous eyes rounded. “You bought the Brunello farm—”

  His lips twitched. “Since the day we walked around the property, it’s been known as the Casali place.”

  “Oh, darling—”

  They were driving up to the farmhouse now. Her head swiveled around. “There must be a dozen trucks parked outside. My whole family’s here! Whose car is that?”

  “Isabella’s. She brought Papa. He won’t be able to stay long, but he came because he loves you.”

  “I feel the same way about him, Tino. He raised you as his own. I love him for that.”

  Valentino loved her for saying it and believed it. “They’ve all planned the celebration we couldn’t have on our wedding day. Welcome home, innamorata.”

  She buried her face in her hands. In the next breath she’d broken down in quiet sobs from too much emotion. Valentino could relate.

  He heard the van door open. Instead of the driver standing there, it was Silvio. His gaze shot to Clara, then passed to Valentino. For those few seconds he sensed her brother felt unsure of himself.

  Taking advantage of the unexpected moment Valentino said, “Why don’t you help her in the house while I talk to the driver?” He undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the van in order to give them some time alone.

  Noise from the house reached his ears. Only the sounds of a big, gregarious family enjoying themselves could fill the air like that. By marrying Clara, he had entrée into their exclusive club. He’d never thought this kind of happiness could be his.

  “Clara? This is for you.” Bianca handed her a gaily wrapped gift.

  “Another present? Thank you.”

  “Don’t let Valentino open it,” she whispered, kissing her cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Bianca, whose morning sickness seemed to be letting up, was the last of Clara’s family to walk out the door. They’d brought the food and had done the dishes. Her mother had to be the one who’d made up their bed.

  After her sister had gone, Clara, still seated on the couch, looked around the living room. She felt sated with food no longer forbidden to her. The wedding presents had been piled high on the coffee table. She couldn’t wait to open them, but exhaustion had caught up with her. Tomorrow would be soon enough to dig in.

  Seven o’clock wasn’t late, but, having just gotten out of the hospital, she was ready for bed and knew Valentino was, too. A little while ago she’d seen him step outside with Silvio. She couldn’t help but wonder how they were getting along. Maybe it was a good sign that her husband hadn’t come back in yet, but it couldn’t be good for him. He’d already been on his feet too long.

  On her way to the bedroom with Bianca’s gift, her gaze wandered around. Valentino had arranged for the interior of the house to be painted an off-white. He’d had it furnished with enough things for them to get by on. In a quiet aside he told her that, as soon as she was well enough, he expected her to decorate it the way she wanted. “Buy whatever else you want to make this our home, piccola.”

  Valentino was a rare man. It frightened her how much she loved him.

  After she’d prepared for bed, she opened the present. Inside the tissue lay a black nightgown with lace straps. Definitely decadent.

  When she’d asked Dr. Arno about that he’d said, “Two weeks and not before!” That was still nine days away. She smiled to herself before hiding it in the bottom of the drawer under some other clothes. Then she got in bed.

  In a minute she saw Valentino’s silhouette in the doorway. “We’ve got a slight problem, piccola.”

  Her heart skipped in worried reaction. “Silvio?”

  “No. Amazingly enough he thanked me in a choked-up voice and we talked farming. I told him I would need his advice on how to go about getting started outside. He has offered his services. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Contentment washed over her. She let out a relieved sigh. “Neither did I. Come to bed.”

  “That’s the problem. In the hospital I would have sold my soul to be able to hold you. Now that I can in the privacy of our own bedroom, I’m telling you it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Yes, it would. We’re both too tired.”

  “That’s how much you know,” he muttered.

  “I’m wearing the same robe I wore at the villa.”

  “You think that protects you?” He started getting ready for bed. “Don’t you realize how enticing you are when you’re buttoned up from hem to neck?” he called out from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. “You might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘warning—to proceed beyond this point could give you a heart attack’.”

  Clara laughed so hard it made her incision hurt.

  When he finally climbed under the covers, they both lay on their backs. It was the most comfortable position for them. She reached out to touch his arm. He caressed hers. When his fingers came in contact with her graft, the movement stopped.

  She heard Valentino suck in his breath. “Now I know why the good doctor left it in. He’s a very wise man. You’re safe from me for a while longer. Ti amo, Clarissima.”

  “Ti amo,” she whispered back. It was liberating to be able to tell him I love you.

  “What do you think, Papa? You’re a connoisseur.” Valentino had just dropped off Clara at the clinic for a checkup. Now was the perfect time to come to the apartment while he waited. He suggested the two of them sit at the dining-room table to enjoy a drink.

  His father took another swallow. “It has a sweet bite. Very unusual.”

  “Do you feel it’s good enough for your Rosa clientele to add it to the drinks menu?”

  Luca eyed his son intently. “I didn’t know you’d developed a taste for limoncello.”

  “In the last month I’ve developed a taste for several new things.”

  His father smiled at him. “Marriage obviously agrees with you. I knew it would once you found the right woman. That’s the trick.”

  That was the trick.

  “You’re one of the lucky few who married your best friend and fell in love with her, too. That doesn’t happen to everyone. I’ve a feeling it will last forever. It’s a rare occurrence, just like this tangy liqueur.” He lifted the wine glass and smelled the bouquet before emptying it.

  “You’ve hit on the right word, Papa,” Valentino mused aloud. Clara was like the drink she’d created. She had her own tang, her own flavor. His giving wife was no imitation of anyone else.

  “Who makes it? This doesn’t smell or taste like it came from Sorrento. It’s sweeter.”

  “Your ‘nose’ never fails you. This comes from a local source.”

  “Ah… I knew it.”

  Among the traits he admired about his father was his insistence on sourcing local produce even if it was more expensive. He paid his staff more and gave them longer holidays.

  These were the reasons he was in debt, but, on the other hand, these were the reasons the staff had stayed loyal to him. Giorgio had confided that Lisa had tried to bribe him several times to come and work for her restaurant, but she’d underestimated her brother’s influence.

  Luca stirred in his chair. “Do I know them?”

  “Yes. Quite well, in fact.”

  He looked surprised. “They’ve never approached me.”

  Valentino smiled inwardly. “No. They wouldn’t.”

  “What’s their brand name?”

  “Limoncello Clarissima.”

  His fath
er blinked. “How unusual, yet beautiful… Reminds me of your wife. I hope she can one day give you a child because you’ll have the most beautiful children around. But more importantly, I have to tell you that you’ll make the best kind of father.”

  A lump lodged in Valentino’s throat. “If such a miracle happens and it’s a son, Clara has already decided we’ll name him Valentino Casali in honor of your heritage.”

  “Well…” His father had to clear his throat several times. “Where did you say these people live?”

  This was fun. “Right here in Monta Correnti.”

  “Why don’t you bring them around to the restaurant tomorrow afternoon or the next afternoon and we’ll talk about serving it for a trial period. I can’t guarantee anything, of course.”

  “Of course,” Valentino echoed.

  He couldn’t wait to get back to the farm to tell her. The long wait was finally over. Tonight would be their real wedding night. His papa had just made it possible for Valentino to give her a wedding present she’d never forget.

  “About your idea for the tour-bus crowd. I think we should try it and see what happens.”

  Elated, he got up to kiss his father on both cheeks, then disappeared out the door with the bottle. There was only a little liqueur left. Enough to celebrate her return to life.

  Once he took off in the Ferrari, it didn’t take long to pull up outside the clinic where she was getting her post-op checkup. He hurried down the hall to the dialysis department. To his frustration she hadn’t come out yet.

  “She’s not here,” the receptionist called out. “She told me you were to meet her in the restaurant at the San Gallo hotel.”

  “Grazie.”

  He had to fight his disappointment that they couldn’t simply drive back to the farm. The San Gallo was the best five-star hotel in Monta Correnti and sat on a hill with its own lovely view. But it was always crowded, especially at this time of year when students and tourists were on spring break. Valentino didn’t want to face hordes of people right now. All he wanted was Clara.

  “Buon giorno, Signor Casali,” the maître d’greeted him ten minutes later. “Congratulations on your marriage. I will give you a view table as soon as I can make the arrangements.”