A Heart Most Worthy by Siri Mitchell Read Free Book Online

good.”
    “For His mercy endures forever.”
    Annamaria stepped out of the booth, and Father Antonio remained, hoping for a parishioner just a little more . . . interesting. For someone who really needed his help.
    As Annamaria walked down Prince Street, she couldn’t keep herself from wondering if, in fact, she could do something that needed confessing. Something so . . . rebellious, so . . . wicked, that it had to be wrong. Wouldn’t that be something? But doing something, and being able to do something, were two very different things. Unfortunately, meek, kind, gentlehearted Annamaria had cultivated the two most lamentable, most damning traits known to womanhood: She was nice. And worse, she was good.

    Julietta, on the other hand, could have confessed to any number of sins. But she didn’t. At least not on a weekly basis. She had developed a more efficient method of confession that fit in rather nicely with her personal philosophy of work. Why go to St. Leonard’s for confession every week and admit to sins by ones and twos, when making a confession once a year, at Easter, was so much more convenient? It made her feel more devout in the same way that it made her feel more contrite. She could repent and be sorry in a much more satisfactory way if she had the benefit of having all her sins lined up together in a nice long row.
    And that evening, she added one more sin to the pile.
    The Settlement House lady visited the Giordanos again. Julietta loved it when she came. The girl could examine her clothing – and her hats! – and then, later, try to imitate the American accent. But to Mama Giordano, the Settlement House lady was the devil incarnate, always telling her the things she shouldn’t do and handing her an ever-growing list of things that she should. She couldn’t understand Americans! Mama had offered the woman a bowl of her spaghetti with tomato gravy and the woman had turned it down. And not just that. She had done it with a sniff.
    And a grimace!
    Mama took the bowl from the woman and put it down in front of Little Matteo. He knew what was good for him. Then she looked over at Julietta. “What did she say?”
    Julietta understood English much better than she could speak it. “She says we need to eat more meat. Every starch needs a meat.” That’s what the lady always said, and Julietta was inclined to agree with her. That’s what all Americans ate. They ate meat. Mounds and mounds of meat.
    “More meat? She going to give us some?”
    The Settlement House lady was a bit worried. It was always tense in the Giordano apartment and now the mother of the brood was frowning. She turned toward Julietta. “What is your mother saying? She doesn’t look happy.”
    “She fine. She fine.” She wasn’t, of course, and that’s where the sinning came in. Julietta had lied.
    “She going to give us some? That’s what I want to know.” Mama stepped toward the Settlement House lady, arms lifted as if in supplication to heaven. “When are you going to give us this meat?”
    “Ma.”
    The Settlement House lady was looking back and forth between Julietta and her mother. “Maybe . . . I know meat is expensive. But so many vegetables – it’s just not healthy for you! I know you people eat noodles . . . maybe you could just eat them with meat. With . . . meatballs!” That would work, wouldn’t it? Meatballs couldn’t be as expensive as a roast or a chicken. And hadn’t she seen Italians making meatballs? Somewhere in that filthy and derelict old building?
    “What did she say?”
    “She says maybe we can eat our maccheroni with meatballs.”
    “What? Like this spaghetti? With meatballs? Who ever heard of such a thing!”
    “Ma.”
    “She’s crazy. Loony.” She swept her gaze from Julietta to the Settlement House lady. “Get out of my house.” Turned back to Julietta. “Tell her to get out of my house. Got no time for crazy people. Got enough people here as it is.” She shuffled back to the stove,