‘Did you go alone, or did you have an accomplice on this quest?’ His expression grew sterner and his green eyes narrowed on Matthew, even over FaceTime.
‘Most of the time, yes. There was this kitchenhand called Elisabetta. Her son, Eduardo, used to hang around sometimes. He was a school refuser. Easier for him to come to work with her. He used to hang out with me. But in those later years, I spent a lot of time with Federica.’
Andrea searched his mind, trying to place the name. ‘Not the daughter of Carlo on reception? The little balding man.’
Matthew mimed zipping his lips. ‘I don’t kiss and tell.’
‘Matteo, here I was promising your parents well-spent Australian summers abroad, full of culture and civility, but you were actually just—’
‘Chasing skirt. Flirting. Doing what teenage boys do at that age.’ He flashed his grandfather a cheeky smile. ‘You had no clue, Nonno. It was hilarious. She was in our apartment once when you came back from a meeting, hiding under my bed, and you had no idea! She was there for like an hour until you headed back out.’
‘Matteo!’
‘Relax, all above board. Just some kissing. That’s all.’
Andrea shook his head. ‘Are you actually trying to kill me right here and now?’
Matthew laughed. ‘Never.’
‘How did I not know?’
‘You were busy. You were all over the place. That time was special for me, you know? Florence was my oyster. It was like no one else was there.’ He enjoyed a pensive beat of silence, then said, ‘I think that time has made me the man I am today.’
‘How so?’
Matthew’s eyes ran across the surface of the kitchen bench in front of him. ‘Well, I’m stubborn as hell. I learned from the best.’ He grinned as Andrea scowled at him. ‘That time in Florence, over all those years and school holidays, just taught me to be safe and comfortable alone. By myself. I didn’t need anyone else, really. I learned to enjoy my company, the time it gave me to work and learn and value my independence. That’s why I guess . . .’ He trailed off to a complete stop.
‘Why you never got serious with anyone?’
Matthew’s stare was fixed on nothing in particular, but the focus allowed him a moment to process his thoughts. ‘Yeah,’ he admitted softly. ‘Maybe.’
‘You’ve always worked too hard. Study. School. Uni. At work. Making partner. I’ve been saying that for years.’ Andrea paused for a moment to take a sip of water, and Matthew winced at the sight of his hand, fitted with a cannula and series of tubes. ‘D’Adamo work ethic and passion from the very beginning.’
The right corner of Matthew’s lip hooked into a wry smile. ‘You taught me everything I know. Except algebra. You were useless with algebra.’
Recalling the moment in question – when he attempted to help Matthew with his Year 10 homework on the mahogany board room desk at Palazzo D’Adamo – he said, ‘Now, in my defence, it had been a long trip. I was jet-lagged and I tried my best.’
‘Useless,’ Matthew repeated for comic effect. ‘Couldn’t just Google help back in those days. I thought you had all the answers for everything.’
‘I didn’t. Still don’t.’
‘But Ithoughtyou did. You were always so sure about everything. I trusted you unconditionally.’
These words hung on the air in Andrea’s hospital room and he wished they would remain. Though he could feel a tingling prickle at the back of his eyes, he forced the emotion down and out of the way. ‘You’re a beautiful boy, Matteo.’
‘I’m thirty-eight, Nonno.’
‘Fine. You’re a beautifulman.’ He went quiet for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve always been so proud of you, Matteo. It was my life’s greatest pleasure to have you by my side all those years. You were the greatest shadow.’
There was a directness in Andrea’s comment which Matthew noted as odd; it was sharper, more determined than other compliments of the past. And it clearly bypassed the relationship that Andrea had with his own son, Matthew’s father. For the moment, Matthew chose to compartmentalise this fact and set it aside.
‘That means a lot, Nonno. But believe me when I say there’s no one else in this world I wanted to have there as my protector.’ Matthew too could feel the emotion well in the back of his throat, and hoped that Andrea couldn’t make out the subtle change in his voice as he swallowed past it. ‘I owe you my life, Nonno. You are the man who shaped me.’
A beaming smile broke through the pain Andrea had been fighting since waking a few hours earlier. ‘You’re in much better shape than me, now,’ and he tried his best to show Matthew how he flexed his bicep. All he did was allow Matthew a peek at his increasingly translucent skin. Matthew noted how the cancer had ravaged his muscle mass, leaving him almost unrecognisable.
‘I bet you can still hold your own,’ Matthew assured him.
‘I never could. Your nonna, God rest her soul, was my rock. She taught me all I knew about being strong. She lived it. I only tried my best to copy.’ He adjusted the oxygen tubes that protruded from his nostrils. ‘Promise me, Matteo, that you won’t walk life’s journey alone. You need to open up and let people in. Make time for life. You’re still so young. You have so many firsts on your list; I am at the end of the lasts.’
