Read Online An Italian Wife by Ann Hood - Free Book Online

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not very good at reading minds, I guess.”
    Disappointed, she opened her Latin book.
    â€œSweeping’s done,” Carmine said from the doorway, startling them both.
    â€œFine,” the priest said. “Scrape the wax from the altar then. Get it all, now, Carmine. Be sure.”
    Carmine nodded but he didn’t leave.
    â€œIs there something else?” Father Leone said impatiently.
    â€œShe’s a puttana ,” he whispered, pointing to his sister. “Watch out.” Then he walked away.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Elisabetta said.
    â€œYou? No, no, Betsy. It is God who is sorry for making a world where war can do that to men.”
    Elisabetta studied the priest’s face. I love you , she thought.
    He patted her hand. “God loves us all,” he said.
    SOMETIMES ON TUESDAYS they all three walked to church after supper: Chiara and Carmine and Elisabetta. Chiara prayed as they walked, her lips moving, her fingers caressing the rosary beads. She prayed for Carmine to stop being shell-shocked. She prayed for the end of all war. She prayed to turn twelve soon so she could become an initiate. This last would happen in two months; Chiara knew that. But she prayed anyway.
    â€œIn Coney Island I fell in love with a woman,” Carmine said one night.
    â€œNo, you didn’t,” Elisabetta said.
    Chiara finished her prayer and said gently to her brother, “No, Carmine. You were supposed to marry Anna Zito.”
    â€œThat puttana ?” He laughed.
    Elisabetta rolled her eyes and walked faster, leaving those two behind her. The week before, Father Leone had said he was worried about her. You can be a scientist, he had told her, but you cannot forsake God for science. What have you given to God? he’d asked her. He had told her that her mother gave anything God asked. Think about it, Betsy, he’d said.
    She had thought about it. Tonight she would tell him that she put up with a brain-damaged brother for God. She put up with stupid sisters. She tolerated her mother’s lack of affection. When she became a scientist, she would give her knowledge in God’s name. She was pleased with her response.
    Father Leone was in his usual place, waiting for her. She heard Carmine and Chiara come in. She heard the sweeping begin and Chiara go down the basement stairs, where she would wash all of the holy linens used in Mass.
    Before Father Leone could say anything, Elisabetta gave him her answer. He smiled as she talked.
    â€œYou are intelligent and beautiful and holy, Betsy,” he said when she was finished. “You are sixteen now, aren’t you?”
    She nodded, pleased.
    â€œThen I think you should have a glass of wine with me. First, I will bless it, and we will drink it in honor of God.”
    She watched him bless the wine and pour two glasses. When she sipped it, she wrinkled her nose and he laughed.
    Father Leone got up and closed the door. Standing behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders.
    â€œDo you remember when we tried to do mental telepathy?” he asked her, his voice low.
    She remembered everything he had said to her, ever. Everyone believed his handsome, still youthful looks were a gift from God. But she knew he was more than that. He was a man. I love you, Father Leone , she thought, sending the words out to him.
    â€œJohn,” he said. “My name is John.”
    She smiled. He could read her mind. He could. John, she thought.
    She tried to turn in her seat to face him, but his hands held her in place.
    â€œI believe you were telling me to kiss you that night.”
    Elisabetta gasped.
    â€œI didn’t want to say it because I am a man of God, Betsy, and we do not partake of bodily pleasures. You are such a beautiful girl. Believe me, if I were not a priest—”
    â€œI shouldn’t have such thoughts,” Elisabetta said, dropping her head. “But I do, Father. At