I squeezed Enzo's fingers to get his attention. "Why don't you run out to the nurses' station and see if you can find out her restrictions? She won't starve if she waits to eat until Tony can get up here."
"The doctors won't like that, sir," the orderly informed me.
"Yeah, well they're not going to be happy if she refuses to eat, either. As Enzo told you, her son is a chef, and he'll follow whatever the doctors tell him to the letter. Hell, he'll probably pay closer attention than your kitchen staff does." I motioned for Enzo to go, leaving me to deal with the nervous orderly. He paused as he passed, sliding his hand over the top of my shoulders. I looked up, recognizing the longing and gratitude in his eyes. "For now, leave the tray here. You've done your job. We'll make sure she eats lunch, one way or another."
The orderly gave me a curt nod and left after recording her delivery on the computer in the corner. Silence descended on the room once she was gone. Even the ambient noise in the corridor was missing. Mama and I watched one another, neither of us saying a word. This room was all wrong for her. It was dark and cold, devoid of the life I was used to whenever she was around. I couldn't do anything about the scent of antiseptic and bland food, but I could make it a bit cheery.
Her eyes tracked me as I walked around the end of the bed to the windows. It was a sunny day outside. Cold, but that was to be expected this late in the fall, and she wouldn't notice it from inside the stifling room. Her face brightened as soon as I opened the blinds, flooding the room with sunshine. "Thank you...Max. Come. Sit with me."
I reclaimed my chair beside her bed and watched her gaze longingly out the window. The scenery wasn't much to look at, but it had to be an improvement over staring at the dry erase board opposite her bed and the TV hung near the ceiling. It was odd, but my mind caught on the television and how I'd never seen her lazing around watching it when we'd visited. Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure she even owned a TV.
"You love him." It was a statement, not a question. Three simple words delivered without the struggle she'd shown since our arrival.
"Tony?" If she glared at me, I wouldn't know because I was busy memorizing the patterns in the linoleum floor.
"I'm sick...not dumb," she scoffed. "They're...good boys. Special. Be...be good...to them."
"I will," I promised. My chair screeched as I dragged it closer to her bed. I took her hand in mine, caressing the silky, thin skin with my thumb. It'd be easy for me to leave the conversation there, but I was overcome with a need to explain myself to her, make her understand I wasn't just fucking around with her sons. I'd be in their lives as long as they'd have me. "I know it's an odd situation, but I love both of them. None of us meant for it to happen, but I'd like to think they're as happy as they make me. It's a gift, and I'll always cherish their love."
"Not strange to a mother." She'd worked hard to keep her words in the right order, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. She might not have given birth to me, but she was everything my own mom had never been capable of being. Unlike too many parents, she understood and truly offered unconditional love. "I worry for them. Their bond...unique."
She grunted in frustration as she tried putting together the words she needed to say. Her eyes kept shifting to the door, giving me the impression she wanted to say something to me before Enzo came back. I placed my other hand over the top of hers and patted it a few times. "There's no hurry. You're doing great given everything you've been through this week."
Mama nodded. Her shoulders relaxed, and she settled against the pillows. "They need...each other. Strong man to...love and...understand them. You don't...judge."
My mouth fell open, and my eyes widened. I nodded, agreeing with what she said while also wondering if this was a symptom of her stroke or if she'd already realized there was something different about her sons. I swallowed a few times trying to get my breathing under control before saying anything else. I felt like I was standing at the fulcrum of a teeter totter and the slightest wrong move could send me crashing to the ground.
"It's okay...Max. I could never...hate them." She lifted a hand to her chest and held it over her heart. "You can't deny...who you love. Even if it's...different. You fight for them. With them."
"Always."
No other words were said. I continued rubbing Mama's hand as she drifted off to sleep. I looked up when Enzo walked back into the room, inviting him to sit with me. Later, when Tony was with us, I'd tell them about our chat. Until then, I could only hope her words had been from the heart and not borne out of drug-induced confusion.
Chapter Twenty
Tony
Noneof my brothers were surprised when I told them Mama was refusing to eat the food offered by the hospital. It seemed she'd put up a fuss every time a meal was brought in, and the others had been sneaking her food whenever they visited. Without a word, Freddie pulled a chicken breast out of the prep cooler and tossed it on the grill. Frankie rounded the cold station and started tossing cut fruits and veggies into a carryout container.
"We'll take over from here," Matteo told me. In the time he'd been with Levi, he'd become much more focused and assertive. His kitchen calamities were a rarity instead of an every day occurrence. "You need to go see her."
I felt guilty I hadn't spent more time at the hospital with Mama. Every time I saw her lying in the bed, my mind jumped to every outcome other than her giving the doctors a hard time and critiquing the food quality. I obsessed over what would've happened if she hadn't come to Marino's that day, if she'd been puttering around in the back dining room later in the day when I'd have been busy getting the main area ready for another busy Friday night. I pictured her lying on the floor, the color draining from her body as she stared up at me with panicked eyes.
Matteo pulled me into the dry storage room and held my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "Enzo told me you've spent most of your time in the waiting area. Why?"
"I hate it, Teo," I admitted. "I know it's wrong, but I can't stand seeing her like that. I can't stop thinking about how close we came to losing her. I can't go through that again."
His fingers dug into my flesh. The little shit was stronger than I'd given him credit for. "You think we're not all feeling that way? But she's doing well. You're letting your fear keep you from seeing that she's going to be fine. Take her lunch and see how she reacts. That'll go a long way to helping ease your fears."
Maybe it'd help the panic over how close she'd come to dying, but I didn't trust myself around Enzo and Max in front of her. It'd only been a few hours since I'd seen them, yet all I wanted was to collapse against their chests and feel the safety of their arms around me. We'd briefly talked this morning about how to deal with telling Mama that Max was with both of us and decided it would be best to not say anything until she was out of the hospital. We weren't going to lie to her, but we also didn't feel the need to add any potential stress when she should be focusing on healing. That meant I could probably get away with holding onto Max for security, but having one without the other was like Thanksgiving dinner without the pie. It was good, but not enough.
"I never said I wouldn't take her lunch," I argued because it was better to focus on the parts of his criticism that didn't leave me spiraling out of control. Plus, I hated the idea of admitting the baby of the family had just effectively put me in my place. And I wasn't the type of guy who skipped a holiday meal just because he couldn't have his favorite dessert. That thought made me chuckle, which caused Matteo's face to twist in concern. He reached out to pat my arm, and I backed away. "I'm fine, Matteo. It's been a long-ass week, and I'm just tired."
"Whatever you say." He quickly bagged the food our brothers had prepared for Mama—and apparently for Enzo and Max as well because there was no way Mama was eating that entire mountain of food on her own. "Spend the afternoon with her, and then go home with the guys. We'll pick up you and Enzo around eight."
"Huh?" I scratched the back of my head, trying to find the detail of this conversation that was still locked in Matteo's bizarre mind. I knew damn well we hadn't made plans, and it wasn't anyone's birthday.
Matteo handed me the first bag and grabbed the other two. The staff called out messages for me to pass along to Mama as I wove my way toward the back door. Matteo bumped the door and held it open for me. I squinted against the sudden brightness. Days like today, it was easy to lose track of time and forget that while the dining room was illuminated by carefully set artificial light to create a romantic atmosphere, the sun glared on the other side of the heavily tinted glass.
