by L. D. Davis
She kissed my cheek. When her body lightly pressed against me, I recognized how close we were. My heartrate sped up at her closeness, and there was an uncomfortable sensation in my chest. Celia and I had shared many embraces and gentle moments over the last couple months, but this time, it felt too familiar. I was uncomfortably reminded of intimate times we’d spent together in the past. Feeling awkward and wrong, I quickly removed myself from the position I was in and shifted to the other side of the room.
A subject change was needed. “Have you thought anymore about where you want to stay when you go to America?”
Disappointment crossed her face, but it only lasted a second. She cleared her throat and occupied my now vacated seat on the arm of the chair. “Well, I really like your house in the woods.” She meant the cabin.
I nodded my understanding but gave her an apologetic smile. “I plan to eventually move Lydia and the children to the cabin, so that may be too tight.”
“If she is as stubborn as you’ve made her out to be, that might not be too likely. In any case, it is a big house, is it not?”
“It is, and you’re right. Lydia is stubborn. It may take some time to get her there.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Then we can stay until she is ready to come, or until I find something nearby. Whichever comes first.”
I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Even if Lydia learned to be cordial with Celia, she wouldn’t want to share a home with her. Besides, I’d never had the intention to have my sister-in-law and her children live with me in any capacity. That was her misconception, but I would address it another time.
I yawned loudly. “I should get back to bed.”
Celia pouted. “Already? You just got here.”
I laughed softly. “The sun will be rising in only a couple hours. We had a late start tonight.”
Her bottom lip trembled. I knew she was about to cry. “Can you…can you stay a little while longer? I don’t think I can sleep yet. I am so worried about Massimo and nervous about the move.”
Lydia hadn’t been happy about the time I’d spent away from our bed last night. However, talking to me allowed Celia to get her troubles off her chest, which made it easier for her to handle her husband’s illness and the mood swings that came with it.
“Just a little while longer,” I conceded.
The sun was almost up by the time I made it back to my bedroom. After stripping out of my clothes, I lay down behind Lydia and wrapped myself around her naked, sleeping form. Instantly, the scent and feel of her made me relax. It did not take long for me to begin to drift off, but just before sleep took me, the same question I’d been so sure I’d answered earlier popped into my brain.
How do you know you are the father?
I knew I was. I knew it. Lydia would never deceive me like that.
Right?
Chapter Twelve
Lydia
The phone rang three times before it was answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I said hesitantly.
“Lydia.” My mother breathed my name like she was relieved to hear from me. That was a good sign, and it helped put me at ease.
“I know your cruise leaves this evening. I didn’t want you to sail away without talking to you first. I wanted to wish you safe travels, and I hope you enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
She sniffled, and her voice quavered. “Oh, Lydia. I’m so sorry for—”
“Mom, don’t. I didn’t call you to have that conversation. I just wanted to tell you to have a good time, to do some fun and crazy things with Wes, and of course, to bring me back some booze.”
She choked out a laugh. “He wants me to go snorkeling. I told him I’d go snorkeling if he’ll go to a nude beach with me.”
“Mom!”
There was a snicker from the other line. “What? You said do crazy things.”
“I meant get drunk and gamble a little.”
“Yeah, well, it’s something I’ve always wanted to try. How’s Italy, honey? How are the kids and Marco? How are you?”
“The kids are great. They’ve adapted quickly. Marco is fine, and I’m fine.”
There was a brief silence. “You’re in Italy, Lydia, and all you can say is that everything is fine?”
I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “What do you want me to say?”
“You’re in Italy,” she reiterated.
“I know where I am.”
Another brief silence. “I will get off this boat and fly to you if you need me,” she said quietly. “I know you think I haven’t really been there for you, but—”
“Mom, stop. Listen, I’m going to tell you something. The only reason I’m telling you now instead of later is so that you have an incentive not to drown while snorkeling or go down in a sinking ship.”
“What? What is it?”
Without hesitation, I told her the news. “I’m pregnant.”
She sniffled again. “Oh, honey. That’s…wait. Are you happy?”
At that exact moment, Marco looked at me from where he stood amongst the grapevines with my kids and Armano. They were waiting for me to make my phone calls before we took a walk on the property. His smile was warm, but there was something behind it I couldn’t pinpoint, something that made me feel uncomfortable. I knew he’d thought I was asleep when he’d come to bed this morning, but I hadn’t been. He’d come to lay behind me, smelling of Celia’s perfume.
Fortunately, the hussy was too busy to spend any time with me today. I wouldn’t have to play nice to the woman I knew was up to no good when it came to Marco.
“Yes.” I lied to my mother because, what else could I say? I couldn’t share all my worries and doubts with her when she was about to go on her first vacation ever. I really wanted her to enjoy herself and not worry.
Mom squealed with delight. “I’m so excited for you and Marco. Oh my gosh, I’m having another grandbaby, and so close on Amara’s heals.”
Hearing my niece’s name made me think of my sister and how I’d left things with her. Unlike my mother, I couldn’t easily patch things with Lily.
“Yeah, it’s exciting. Hey, I better let you go. I still have to call work, and Marco and the kids are waiting for me. We’re about to explore the estate a little bit. I can’t wait to tell you about this place later.”
When we hung up a minute later, I felt a little lighter after talking to her. I hated fighting with my mom. I’d meant everything I said to her the other day, but I didn’t want her to go away thinking I hated her or didn’t like her, just in case something happened.
As I walked toward Marco and the kids, I called my job. I was supposed to be back at work tomorrow, but that wasn’t going to happen. I had no idea when I’d be leaving. That conversation hadn’t gone as well as the one with my mom.
“How is your mom?” Marco asked when I reached him.
“Good. Excited for her trip and for us.”
He looked at me carefully. “And your boss?”
I frowned and tried not to have a panic attack right there among all the vines. “He let me go. Once again, I am unemployed.”
He shrugged. “So what? You don’t need that job, Lydia. You have me.” He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to speak. “No, you are not allowed to deny my support now. You are mine. You are all mine, and I will always care for my own.”
I really wanted to argue, but it wasn’t the time or place, not in front of the kids who didn’t know of the baby yet. “We’ll talk later,” I muttered.
Marco grinned and kissed the side of my mouth. “We can talk later, Tesoro, but I will have my way.”
The Mangini estate was expansive. Their property extended over two thousand acres. My house in Ohio only sat on a little less than half of an acre. It was almost impossible for me to fathom the enormity of the land they occupied. Almost everything I could see was owned by Marco’s family.
“When my family purchased this hous
e several generations ago, it was in disrepair. There were only a couple hundred acres when they came. It had been abandoned by its owners when they fell upon difficult times. The story is that the aristocrats who once lived here lost everything after committing treason. The house was all but forgotten about by the time my ancestor purchased it for very little money. He brought his entire family here. Over the years, they restored the house and bought more of the surrounding land until it reached what it is today. You see over there, where that cluster of buildings are? That was a village built by my family and people who worked for us. It was sustained by this land.”
I gazed off into the distance at the buildings that appeared abandoned now. “What happened to it?”
“Like so many other small towns and villages in this country and around the globe, a progressive world killed it. There are still many places like it throughout the country, but not like it was back then—when the world was smaller. Maria has plans for it, though. She wants to revitalize it, put in some small rustic and crafty shops, and maybe a bed and breakfast.”
“I like that idea.”
The Mangini family, along with Giovanni’s family, the Alessandris, owned one of the largest real estate investment firms in Europe. In the few days that I’d been in Italy, I discovered that they had funded several programs for those with a low income who could not otherwise afford to purchase a home or live somewhere decent. That had surprised me, considering what Marco had said to Lily and Kyle when she’d first met him. Kyle had been campaigning for Marco’s investment for good low-income housing, and Marco had basically called poor people trash. He’d since retracted that statement and had even taken over that project for Kyle, but I still thought about it sometimes, especially considering I was low income trash.
“Massimo told me about some of the programs Mangini Alessandri has for the working poor. Why were you so against the low-income housing before?”
He gave me a sideways glance before turning his gaze on the kids as they played some game with rocks and sticks. “We are back on that, are we?”
I shrugged. “You’ll never live it down, but really, I’m curious. What made you say all those things?”
“Well, as you know, I moved to the United States at a young age. I worked with my father in the firm from the time I was twelve, so I was very knowledgeable of how real estate worked—at least, I was knowledgeable about how it worked here. It was very different in America, and at the same time, enough of the same for me to get a handle on it. I started my business when I was still in college. I bought a run-down house, did most of the work myself on weekends and holidays. When I flipped it and made a decent profit, I decided to keep it going. Next time, I had help from a few friends. In two years, we bought and flipped six houses.
“When a multiunit house down the street from where I’d lived with my cousin went on the market, I thought it would be a good time to try my hand at being a landlord. The place was barely up to code when I purchased it, but my guys and I worked hard to make it beautiful. I came back to Italy for a little while, like I told you before. I was here for less than a year, and in that time, the low-income tenants had all but destroyed the property. They’d had no respect for the hard work and money that had been spent to give them a nice home. For another year and a half, it was hell. It took me two years to evict almost everyone. I fixed up the building again and sold it as soon as I could. That experience put a bad taste in my mouth. I donated to the less fortunate when I could, did the galas and fundraisers, but I never dealt with people directly like that again.”
I nodded slowly. “I understand now. I mean, you were still a jerk about it, but I understand why. That doesn’t excuse the fact that you judged a whole group of people because of a few bad apples, though.”
His smile was self-deprecating. “I cannot argue with you, Tesoro.”
Someone shouted Marco’s name. At first, I thought I’d imagined it, but when it came again, we all looked in the direction of the voice. A moment later, Roberto dashed through some brush and into the clearing we were in. He was out of breath, his face lined with panic.
“Che cos'è? Che succede?” Marco demanded, moving toward the young man.
“È papà. Lo stiamo portando di corsa in ospedale.”
Marco cursed in Italian before turning to me. “My brother, he is being taken to the hospital. I knew he should not have come out last night. I must go. Will you be okay returning to the house on your own?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Roberto, e io?” Armano questioned, his voice shaky and his eyes large and watery.
A brief discussion broke out as Roberto and Marco tried to convince Armano that everything would be okay, and that he should stay with us. The hospital was no place for children, and he wouldn’t be allowed to see his father anyway for hours, if not days. I despised Celia, but I adored Massimo, and I really liked Armano.
I put my hand on his small shoulder. When he looked up at me with tears in his eyes, I gently said, “Andrà tutto bene. It will be okay.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded.
Marco gave me a questioning stare because I’d spoken Italian. In that instant, I knew he’d figured me out, but there wasn’t time for an interrogation. After we shared a quick kiss, he and Roberto reassured Armano once again and then ran back toward the house.
The exploration was over for the day. Armano didn’t cry, but he was very quiet on the way back. Gavi stuck by his side like a good friend and occasionally told him it would be okay. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, proud of my son for being strong for someone he cared about, even though the situation had to remind him of the loss of his own father.
Back at the house, we found a few leftover people from the party, mostly relatives who were from out of town. Sofia, Laura, and Lucia remained behind to watch over all the younger children. My leg ached, and I was nauseous. I wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and rest, but I didn’t want to leave the girls with so many kids, especially since they were clearly troubled by Massimo being in the hospital.
Salina dropped in with Giovanna later in the afternoon to keep us company while we waited to hear about Massimo. I sent Marco a few messages, but he never answered. We didn’t hear anything until the evening when Maria called Sofia, and even then, she didn’t know much. All she knew was that he’d had a bad reaction to something that made his lips swell and worsened his respiratory problems. The doctors had managed to get his symptoms under control, but because of his underlying conditions, he wouldn’t be going home for at least a day or so.
Slowly, family members trickled back in. First Matteo, then Maria and Elena. Roberto and Andrea came by in the middle of dinner and ate before heading to their apartment in town. I expected Marco at any time, but after dinner was cleaned up, he still hadn’t returned. I shot him another message as I got the kids ready for bed, but again, it went unanswered. It wasn’t until almost midnight before he called me on FaceTime.
I could tell by bright lights and emergency vehicles in the background that he was outside of a hospital. His lids seemed a little heavy, and his weary smile was slightly lopsided. “Hey, Tessoro. How are you?”
The truth was my feelings were hurt because he hadn’t responded to any of my texts all day. Even to me that sounded very self-centered, so I kept it to myself.
“I’m fine. How’s your brother?”
He sighed. “Better. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.”
“Which will be when?”
Something or someone caught his attention. He glanced away for a moment and spoke to someone I couldn’t see. Celia’s voice floated in, and a second after that, I caught a glimpse of her as she moved in beside him. She gazed up at him like he was the only star in the sky. I wanted to jump through the phone and karate chop her in the throat.
Finally, Marco returned his focus to me. “We are leaving now. I will see you soon.”
I hated seeing them together. I couldn’t even begin to descr
ibe how uneasy and irritable it made me feel. I cared about what happened to Massimo, but I was finding it increasingly difficult to feel sympathy toward his wife.
An hour passed. Then another. Marco didn’t come. I shot him a text to make sure he was okay. The only reason I knew he hadn’t driven off a cliff somewhere was because the message showed as read soon thereafter, but he didn’t respond. Sometime in the third hour, I fell asleep. Once again, it was nearly dawn when he slid into bed behind me, clogging my sinuses and crushing my heart with the scent of Celia’s perfume.
Chapter Thirteen
Regardless of the fact that we were still in Italy, it was back to business as normal in America. Marco couldn’t ignore his responsibilities for his company any longer. Only a couple hours after coming to bed, he went to his father’s study to work. He was already getting dressed when I woke up, so we barely had a chance to speak before he left. Although, in those few minutes, he seemed different. I figured it was irritation from lack of sleep and a distracted mind, but I also wondered if it was more than that.
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve confronted him about his time with Celia, but I was a stranger in a strange land. No matter how kind the Mangini family was to me, in the end, I was still an outsider. I had to tread carefully.
Just after I finished breakfast, Salina called to invite me and the kids to the zoo with her and Tess. Gavin wanted to remain at the estate to play with his new bestie, Armano, but Sofia had plans with Laura. Elena did the pushy Italian mother thing, piled more food on my plate and assured me that she would look after my son. The smell of the sweet bread hadn’t bothered me before, but this morning, it made my stomach turn. So not to insult her, I forced myself to eat another bite.
Marco was on the phone, pacing back and forth and using his authoritative boss voice when I went to him. I stood patiently by the door and gazed around while I waited. After a couple minutes, he put whoever it was on hold and muted the phone.
“What is it?”
There was impatience in his voice, as well as written across his face. That made me feel prickly, but instead of yelling at him and calling him a dickbag, I reined in my temper. He was working, and I did interrupt.
