knew Vinnie was right. Of all the things people had said to her over the past six months, all the useless advice and meaningless platitudes (God never gives you more than you can handle, everything happens for a reason) and quoting of Bible verses, what Vinnie said about elective amputation and losing her ankle made the most sense. Matilda grew up knowing that you didn’t get anything without giving something up. In her world, that was the prevailing logic. It was just a matter of knowing how much you were willing to lose, how many pounds of flesh, which in her case would be literal. (“If thy foot offend thee, cast it off”—that Bible verse she understood.)
When she was in rehab, one of the nurses told her Vinnie was someone they called a “superuser.” He healed so swiftly and learned so fast that he’d been chosen to test the cutting-edge prosthetic he wore. And here she was, barely able to hobble around on her clunky, ugly rubber foot. She was the opposite of Vinnie. She wasn’t a superuser, she was a superloser.
But more surgery, more rehab, better prosthetics? It would all cost money. A lot of money. “I don’t have that kind of insurance. I don’t have that kind of money, and I don’t know anyone who does,” Matilda said. She sounded defeated, resigned.
“Yes, you do,” Vinnie said. “You do.”
IT HAD TAKEN VINNIE A FEW TRIES, but before he took the mirror to Matilda, he’d managed to convince her cousin Fernando to meet with him privately. Fernando was suspicious at first and Vinnie quickly realized the source of all the wariness, the secrecy and protectiveness around Matilda: fear of deportation. Vinnie slowly pulled the story from Fernando—the wedding, the ride in the fancy car, the emergency room, the hastily called meeting in an attorney’s office only days later, the rush to sign papers and take the check, the refusal to fight Leo Plumb in court or insist on an insurance claim. The family wanted to avoid a police report because a police report would mean that Matilda’s parents—and Fernando’s mother who was also illegal, not to mention most of the rest of their extended family—would come to the attention of the immigration authorities, as George Plumb had repeatedly threatened, according to Fernando. Vinnie tried to understand exactly what kind of agreement Matilda had signed (in the hospital, hopped up on morphine; it was ridiculous, a travesty). He finally convinced Fernando that a conversation with Leo Plumb was not going to incite legal action. “I just want to have a friendly chat with him,” Vinnie said.
Fernando had burst out laughing. “You understand why that doesn’t sound entirely plausible to me?” Fernando had almost punched Vinnie the day he’d yelled at Matilda in the pizza parlor; he didn’t trust the guy.
“I swear to you,” Vinnie said. “On my mother’s grave. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Matilda. You have to believe me. I would never, ever bring harm to Matilda.”
Fernando did believe that part because Vinnie was clearly head over heels. And Fernando also felt a not-insignificant amount of guilt about the weeks following the accident. He had panicked; they all had. He’d been blinded by the sum of money the Plumbs were offering as much as anyone and was ashamed to think of how Matilda had helped him pay off some of his law school loans. He’d been so relieved, he’d barely protested.
“Okay,” he finally said to Vinnie. “But you have to tell Matilda what you’re planning and she has to agree. Promise me you will tread carefully.”
“You have my word,” Vinnie said. He wasn’t scared of anyone, and the mysterious Leo Plumb sure didn’t intimidate him. He respected Fernando’s hesitation, but he knew without ever having to meet him what kind of a person Leo Plumb was: He was a fucking coward.
Matilda was so full of shame about the night of the accident she couldn’t see clearly, but Vinnie could. What kind of person leaves his wife at a wedding and lures a young girl out to his car with a lie? What kind of person doesn’t even think twice about driving given his blood alcohol and drug levels? What kind of person doesn’t fucking apologize and check on the girl who, because of his spectacular hard-on, no longer has a foot? A coward, that’s who. And here was another thing Vinnie knew about cowards: They were easy to break.
Vinnie had a plan. He was going to request a meeting