“Matteo,”I shout as my cousin steps into baggage claim.
“Dan.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. The last time I saw him was at his mother’s funeral in the States. My aunt’sdeath had been a tragedy that fractured something deep in my cousins. I know all too well what it’s like to lose a mother.
“Let’s get you checked into your hotel. You can rest after your long flight. Then we can order room service and review the plans for the delivery.”
“Grazie.” He straightens the collar of his black shirt, then stuffs a hand into his black jeans, pulling his case with the other.
We walk out of the terminal into the warm Mediterranean air, the afternoon sun beating down on my face. It’s a good thing Rose had a flight today. I’d almost forgotten about this meeting with everything that’s happened lately.
I glance at my cousin’s tired, weathered face and am reminded that he needs me, too. This meeting had been planned long before I knew I had a son.
Family always comes first.
But now, I have another family.
One I didn’t even know I was missing until I looked into a kid’s eyes and saw my own.
I place a hand on Matteo’s shoulder. “We’ll catch up this evening. I have a few errands to run this afternoon.”
“Thanks, cugino.” He wheels his case onto the pavement as we head to the taxi stand. “It’s good to see a friendly face.” His warm smile reaches his eyes, the lines on his face deeper now than the last time we met.
“Same, cuz.” I squeeze his shoulder, knowing the years have taken their toll on my dad’s side of the family. Since my mother’s murder, we’ve all felt the weight of corruption and betrayal. At least I got to avenge my mother’s killers and make peace with it. Matteo, on the other hand, is still struggling with his demons.
21
ROSE
“Ciao, Mamma.” I smile as I walk over to Mamma’s chair next to the hospital bed. “You’re looking so much better.” I lean down and kiss her cheek.
She raises a hand and pats my face, her body much stronger than before. “I feel a lot better. Especially now I’m seeing you.” Her familiar scent of lavender seems to relieve all the tension from my shoulders.
“Would you like a stroll around the garden today? It’s nice weather out.”
“Sì, let me get into the wheelchair.” She pushes herself up with shaky limbs, still not fully mobile, and I’m not sure she ever will be.
I hook the portable oxygen concentrator onto her wheelchair and cover Mamma’s legs in a blanket. As I wheel her down the corridor, I tug at my necktie, the air stifling in here, full of disinfectant. The walls close in on me, but I’m acutely aware of every person I pass and lingering eyes after Dan said it wasn’t safe in Rome. I’m sure he’d be here with me if he didn’t have a meeting. I don’t miss the irony that he claimed to be keeping me safe back home and never left my side, but here in Rome, wheredanger is more prevalent, he’s gone off to a meeting. It doesn’t make sense.
“How’s my grandson?” Mamma asks as the doors to the garden open automatically.
I push her over the threshold into the warm breeze and welcome the sun on my face, and the scent of the stone pine trees that always remind me of my childhood and the Villa Borghese, and him.
“Angelos is fine, Mamma. It’s his birthday Monday.” I wheel her to a bench partly shaded by a tree.
“I know. I haven’t got him a gift, but I’ll get Elio to wire some money over.”
I sit on the bench next to her, taking hold of her hand as it rests on her blanket. “It’s fine, Mamma, he knows you’ve been in hospital. He isn’t expecting anything.” I look around, checking our surroundings, and lower my voice. “Dan’s taking us out somewhere for his birthday.”
Mamma has a whimsical smile. “I’m so glad you’ve found each other again.”
“It’s not like that.” I shake my head, my neck itching and tender under my silk scarf where his lips lingered. “We’re not together. But he knows about Angelos.”
Mamma nods. “About time that boy knew his real father.”
“I haven’t told Angelos yet. Mamma, I’ve been such an idiot.” I bury my face in my palms. “I honestly never thought I’d see Dan again. And if I ever did, I always told myself I wouldn’t fall for his tricks again, but I feel history is repeating itself.” Tears pool in the corners of my eyes, but it’s more frustration at my own weakness. For the last eight years, I’ve been this strong, independent woman, but one look from Dan and I’m a naïve girl again, desperate for his affection.
“There, there.” She pats my head as I rest it in her lap, just like I would after my father had lost his temper with Mamma. Ignoring her own bruises, she would soothe my cries with lullabies. “He’s not your husband.”
I lift my head. “But he betrayed me. He used me. He even admitted it.”
