Once Valentino had unloaded about Clara, the doctor told him what he could. “Those treatments take between four and five hours. Afterward she’ll be weak and need rest. Sometimes the patient suffers a sudden loss in blood pressure or gets muscle cramps. One or all of those reasons was why she’d been in a hurry to get on the bus the other day.”
“Of course.” Valentino had read all the signs wrong. She’d run from him because she wasn’t well, and because she had her pride. The Rossettis possessed that in abundance. Clara wouldn’t even let her family drive her to the clinic and back.
“Depending on her individual health, she probably needs to eat more animal protein. If necessary she might have to cut milk, cheese, salt and soft drinks. She’ll do better on the day after each dialysis treatment. That explains her ability to work at her family’s fruit stand.”
“How long can she go on like this?”
“Most patients live longer on dialysis these days, but her End Stage Renal Disorder might be more severe. Perhaps she’s been diagnosed with anemia. There could be other problems, too, like bone disease, nerve damage or high blood pressure. These are complications you’ll have to discuss with her specialist. Naturally the most desired thing would be to find a compatible donor for a transplant as soon as possible.”
He closed his eyes tightly. Dr. Arno couldn’t call him back fast enough. In the meantime, Valentino intended to be there for her in every conceivable way.
“Thank you, Dr. Rimbaud. What you’ve told me helps a lot.”
“Call me anytime.”
As soon as he hung up, he phoned for a taxi to take him to the local market. Once there he did some shopping, satisfied that the paparazzi would be looking in vain for his Ferrari. Until further notice it would stay in the garage. He would wait outside the doors to the clinic in the taxi until she emerged, then offer her a ride home.
“Signore?” the chauffeur called to him. “We’ve arrived.”
“So we have.”
He instructed him to wait in the loading zone. His pulse picked up speed when he finally saw Clara start out the clinic doors. She looked good, not as pale as she’d been last evening. He stepped out of the taxi into her path so she had to stop.
“How come you keep following me?” he baited her gently.
She lifted her beautiful head so he could see the green flecks in her eyes.
“Tino—”she cried in shock, but her eyes lit up. This was a bonus he hadn’t expected after barging in on her treatment.
“Come on. I’ve brought cold fruit juice and a chicken sandwich for you. You can eat it on the way back to the farm.”
He could tell she wanted to argue with him, but she didn’t have the kind of strength she needed for that. “Where’s the Ferrari?” she asked as he helped her into the backseat.
After he gave the driver directions, he handed her a sandwich and a drink before sitting back to answer her question. “It’s out of sight for a variety of reasons.”
“That will drive the paparazzi crazy.” She took several bites of her sandwich. “I have to admit this tastes delicious. You’re spoiling me with good food again.”
He’d bought himself a fruit drink and drained most of it. “I wonder how many hundreds of times you shared your lunch with me at school because I was too busy doing some project to stop and eat. Your mother made the best lunches in Monta Correnti.”
A trace of a smile hovered on her lips as she continued to eat. “Our family carried around the excess pounds to prove it.”
He flashed her a sweeping glance. “Not any longer.”
She avoided his gaze and drank more juice.
“Does your mother know she kept me alive with her cooking?”
“I didn’t dare tell her.”
Valentino chuckled. “You’re lucky you’ve had her in your life all these years. Do you want to know a secret?”
Clara’s head turned in his direction. She’d finished the last of her sandwich. He was thankful she’d had an appetite. “What is it?”
“I was jealous you had a mother who fussed over you every day. You and Bianca always seemed so happy. You didn’t know it, but having two parents who were alive and loved you gave you a confidence I would have given anything to feel.”
Her expression sobered. “I understand that now, but you did have Luca.”
“Yes, and he indulged me without limits.”
“That was only natural. After your mother died, he would have tried to play both roles. He loved you, Tino. I know he did. Otherwise his marriage to your mother wouldn’t have worked out.”
“I guess he wanted her badly enough to include her excess baggage.”
In a surprise gesture she covered his hand with her own and squeezed it gently. “I’m so sorry you’ve carried this pain with you all these years. I often sensed something was wrong, but you never opened up about it.”
“I couldn’t.”
Her head was bowed. “None of us is exempt from problems, but somehow we deal with them because we have no choice, right?”
He marveled at her courage. “ì.”
She let go of his hand. “We’re almost to the farm.”
Valentino told the driver to turn onto the private road where you could see the sign advertising produce at the Rossetti farm. He told him to follow it all the way in to the farmhouse and pull to a stop.
The minute the taxi slowed down, Clara had the door open. He knew better than to ask her to stay with him and talk. She was probably craving her bed.
“Thank you for the food and the ride, Tino. You saved my life today.”
Would that were possible.
“I always enjoy being with you.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Where are you going now?”
“Home to work on the Web site.”
“What did your father say about your ideas?”
“I’ve decided to wait until I have all the facts at hand, then present them in one go and see how he reacts.”
“I think you’ll be surprised how accepting he is of your ideas.”
“We’ll see. Your optimism gives me hope.”
“That’s good,” came her fervent reply.
He leaned toward her. “I’m going to come by for you in the truck after you’re off work tomorrow.”
Clara felt her pulse race. “What did you have in mind?”
“I thought we’d drive to Gaeta—we went there once, remember? We’ll enjoy a meal on the coast. It’s not too far. We’ll take it in stages. If you feel like sleeping on the way, you can.”
He still wanted to be with her?
“I’d love it!” she broke in. To go to the sea with him sounded divine.
His mouth broke into a satisfied smile. “I’m happy to hear it. Get a good sleep. I’ll be by about three.”
“All right. Ciao.”
Clara entered the kitchen feeling more lighthearted than she’d been in days. Who else but Valentino would have pretended to be her fiancé so he could gain access to the treatment room? She’d noticed that none of the workers at the clinic were immune