Читать книгу Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart онлайн | страница 58

“Do you think I can raise him?” she asked a few moments later.

“You can do anything if you want it enough. Remember that. From what I see, you are doing a fine job.”

“Tell me more about growing up around here.”

“Weekends are busy times for restaurants. My father worked hard. My mother with him, until she died. But even though we didn’t see much of them our childhood was still magical. Especially when my grandfather was alive. His life was different from our everyday life. He knew the trees, the forest, fish in the lake.”

She fell silent, thinking about the vacations she and her parents had enjoyed. It seemed so long ago and far away. Would visiting some of the spots bring the memories closer? Or only emphasize she was alone? She wanted Dante to see all of Italy. They’d make new memories.

“I’m going into Monta Correnti tomorrow. The doctors at the hospital wanted to check me and Dante again, make sure there are no lasting effects. I need to get access to a printer so I can print up another picture of Ariana. Maybe check around in Monta Correnti to see if anyone recognizes her.”

“Park near the town square. Easy to get to an Internet café, shops and the hospital.”

“We’ll find it,” she said cheerfully, wishing he’d offered to drive them into town.

After visiting the hospital the next morning and getting a clean bill of health for both her and Dante, Mariella wandered the center part of Monta Correnti. First stop after the hospital was the Internet café where she was able to print a color photograph of Ariana. Staring at the picture of her friend, she remembered how vital she’d always been when younger. The illness had robbed her of so much.

Then she pushed the baby in the stroller, wandering down side streets, walking around the square. When she saw a likely tourist spot, she showed the photo. No one recognized Ariana.

It was after one when Mariella turned back onto the wide piazza and gazed at the buildings. Rosa seemed to leap out at her. That was Cristiano’s family’s restaurant—the one with the excellent marinara sauce. She pushed the stroller along, wondering if she dared try Dante in the restaurant. So far the baby had been in perfect harmony with all they’d done. But she’d hate to be in the middle of a meal and have him start screaming his head off.