A horrible, slicing pain squeezed tight around my heart. My breath felt strangled, and I began gasping, desperate to get air. The pictures kept flickering across the screen.
The little girl does a happy dance and flashes a gap-toothed smile. “I wish for a box of Lexi’s Lemonade!” she shouts to the genie.
Immediately, a puff of pink smoke swirls and the familiar box of juice is in the girl’s hands. “Wish granted. What is your second wish?”
“I wish for a box of Lexi’s Lemonade!” she says again.
The genie frowns, then nods. A puff of blue smoke appears along with another box.
I tried to suck in a breath but there was no air. I was dying. I was having a heart attack right in front of my clients, and there was nothing I could do about it. A vision of Allegra swam past me, and my hands fisted in helpless fear as I began to crumble to the ground, trying to shout for help.
“Wish granted. What is your third wish?” the genie asked.
“I wish for a box of Lexi’s Lemonade!” the girl yells.
A puff of glittery silver smoke, and then the lemonade is in her hand. The girl hugs all three boxes to her, beaming.
“Your wishes are granted,” the genie announced.
“Thank you, genie. Boy, I wish I had one more wish left. I’d wish for a lifetime supply of Lexi’s Lemonade!”
The genie shook his head in obvious confusion, then shrugged. “Before I go back in my lamp, do you think I can have one? I don’t want to wait another ten thousand years to taste Lexi’s Lemonade.”
“Sure!” The little girl gives the genie one of her boxes and they both drink.
The words pop on the screen in huge neon glitter letters.
Lexi’s Lemonade—Make All Your Wishes Come True!
Good for Moms Too—100% Organic and Packed in the World’s First Recyclable Boxes!
With a pain wracking my chest, my lungs unable to draw in any air, I hit the floor as dim shouts seemed to come from far away. I clawed for focus, but my vision blurred and the room did a drunken spin. The words got stuck in my throat and refused to emerge. In those final moments before I lost consciousness, one thought repeated over and over.
I should have brought the meeting to a close earlier.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sophia
The day my husband died, I won two thousand dollars.
I was with my church friend, Kathy Burke, and she had talked me into heading over to bingo after Saturday mass. Jack had said he wasn’t feeling well and was going to stay home, and I didn’t give it much thought. I remember telling him I wasn’t sure if I was going to bingo and did he want me to check in, but he said no, if I didn’t come home by six, he’d put in the leftover chicken and take care of himself.
The mass was long because Father Bill was dealing with some drama from the fallout of the church mergers, and some of the congregation had a bee in their bonnet about mass times getting cut. After he addressed the issues, he went into a detailed sermon on forgiveness (probably directed at the specific people who’d been giving him a hard time), and then the birthday blessings came up, and by the time I’d shaken Father Bill’s hand, I just wanted to go home and watch a movie with Jack.
But Kathy was insistent, so I told her I’d go for a short time. The event ended up being more fun than I’d expected. A group of friends flocked over, and we had a whole table to ourselves, and they even served some wine, which was rare. The time flew, and I ended up winning the final game of the night, which was the big jackpot.
I couldn’t believe it. I’d never won anything in my life. And two thousand dollars was a huge amount of money for us at the time. I remember how excited I was to tell Jack. I decided not to text or call but to surprise him when I got home. We’d make plans to go out to a fancy dinner with Francesca to celebrate. I drove home singing to Justin Timberlake, who seemed like such a nice boy with an amazing voice, and was surprised when I walked in and saw there were no dishes in the sink and the television wasn’t on. Jack had never washed a dish in his life and I didn’t expect him to start now, so that meant he hadn’t eaten dinner. Had he gone to bed already?
I walked up the stairs and found him dead on the carpeted floor of our bedroom.
Nothing was out of place. No phone by his side to call 911. He was dressed in his normal outfit of loose khaki pants and a white shirt. His face didn’t reflect any distress or regret or pain. It was just smooth and expressionless.
And gone.
Jack was no longer in there. The body had been just a shell after all. And as I called 911 and felt the hysterics begin deep in my bones, the full horror unfolding over losing the man I’d been with for my entire life, I wondered, if I hadn’t stayed for bingo, would he still be alive?
I never told Frannie about the money or being at bingo. I donated the funds back to the church and buried the knowledge deep. But right now, walking into the hospital to see my daughter, I couldn’t stop wondering whether one bad decision can wreck the rest of one’s life. If I’d come home from mass, maybe I could have saved my husband, and then maybe Frannie wouldn’t have collapsed at forty-eight years old.
Men plan and God laughs, the familiar voice whispered. Why are you still obsessing about that? You should have never donated the damn money. You could have used it.
Shush, I told Jack, hurrying my steps to the nurse’s desk. It was blood money. I didn’t want it.
You’ve been watching too many old movies on TCM. It was from church bingo and it wasn’t your fault.
I had no time to converse with my dead husband right now. Instead, I gave them my name, and they told me floor four, and I got off and made my way to the nurses’ station. I tried to remain strong for my daughter’s sake.
Dear God, let her be okay. If I lose her, I won’t be able to cope.
My voice shook but at least it worked. “Francesca Ferrari. She’s my daughter.”
The nurse smiled and gestured down the hall. “Room 404. The doctor will be there shortly.”
“Thank you.”
They’d told me she was out of danger, but that was all I knew. I walked in and she was propped up in bed with some pillows behind her, eyes closed. I stopped at the edge of the bed, trying hard not to cry. She looked so fragile. None of her usual strength and force radiated from her figure. Even when she was young, she’d run from place to place with a determined focus to conquer every task. “Frannie?” I said softly.
Her eyes flew open. “Mom.” She shook her head, a self-conscious smile curving her lips. “I had an incident.”
I sighed and sat down, my hand automatically reaching for hers as I reassured myself she was okay. She accepted my embrace, her fingers curling around mine, and for a moment I remembered when she was young and used to hold my hand for guidance, her warm flesh a comfort and guiding light for every second of my day. Now I grabbed any crumbs my daughter would give me and was grateful.