To Kiss a King - NIcole Burnham Page 0,62
education program, but instead, it was a maternal health care program that had caught her interest. “I knew there can be a lack of access to maternity care, but I had no idea about the incidence of obstetric fistulas. It’s horrifying to know that so many women—teenagers, even—end up with such devastating injuries from labor, then are left to fend for themselves.”
Claire nodded. “Horrifying is the perfect descriptor for it. Thankfully, there are some wonderful organizations working in Uganda to educate people about the problem and the need for preventive care. They’re also recruiting doctors to perform low- or no-cost surgery so women who’ve been affected can lead more normal lives. Their work gives me hope.”
To Eduardo, she explained, “Our role at the embassy was to facilitate the recruitment of health care educators and surgeons from the United States.”
He hadn’t heard of the problem, but Amanda said she’d done some reading after speaking with her father. “There are several San Riminian health care workers who’ve volunteered their time and expertise. Some in Uganda, others in Burkina Faso and Kenya.”
Eduardo leaned back in his seat and considered his daughter-in-law with admiration. Claire sensed they’d built a solid respect for each other in the years since Amanda had met and married Marco. “We should be doing more to support them. Once the Strada il Teatro project is done, would you remind me of this conversation?”
“I might be a little busy with my own baby, but I’ll make a note. If I don’t remind you, perhaps Claire will?”
It didn’t escape Claire that Amanda’s suggestion assumed that Claire would be around for the long haul. She nodded and said, “I can do that. I met with several fistula patients at a clinic my first year in Uganda. It’s not an experience I’ll ever forget.”
A short time later, they’d adjourned to the sofas and Claire mentioned that she’d had the opportunity to meet Giovanni Sozzani, the king’s close friend, when he’d hosted them for lunch two weeks earlier.
“Did he try to convert you to the dark side?” Marco asked.
At Claire’s frown, Amanda said, “That’s what the king calls cycling. He’s a runner, Giovanni is a dedicated cyclist. They debate the merits of one over the other all the time.”
“We did discuss cycling,” Claire said. “The town where I grew up draws a lot of cyclists in the summer. We talked about New Mexico and Colorado and the cycling events held there. But he didn’t try to convert me.”
“I warned him,” Eduardo said. “She refuses to run. I can’t fathom it, but I can live with it. If Claire were to start cycling, though, I’m not sure how I’d handle it.”
“I told him that taking a spin class doesn’t count as cycling,” Claire noted. “But I prefer hiking when I can, anyway.”
Amanda agreed and said she and Marco had been trying to schedule extra hiking time on their weekends so she could keep moving throughout her pregnancy. “Having that outdoor time is the only thing that keeps me from being exhausted. It refills the energy well.”
“And that,” Marco said, “is our cue to leave. It’s getting late, and my wife and baby need to sleep.”
“The baby can sleep whether or not I sleep.”
Marco shrugged and stood, but the stealthy wink he shot at Amanda made it obvious he simply wanted his wife alone.
Once they were gone, Eduardo asked Claire if she was still awake enough for the movie.
“For that particular movie? Always.”
Eduardo strode toward the coffee table in search of the remote control. “He likes you, you know.”
“Who? Marco?”
“Yes.” Eduardo located the remote, then smiled at her. “He was very close to his mother and has always been protective of her legacy. But not only does he like you, he likes me with you. He told me that last part this morning when we finalized the time for dinner. He said I’ve been at my best recently.”
Claire felt tears come to her eyes. She still remembered watching the late queen’s funeral on television. The pained looks on her family’s faces had spoken volumes, Marco’s expression in particular. She smiled at Eduardo through the wave of emotion that suddenly gripped her. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I thought you should know.” He gave her a long, heartfelt smile, then turned toward the far wall and pushed a button on the remote to reveal a television that was hidden behind a painting. As the painting slid to the side, he admitted, “I don’t have the opportunity to watch television