“He’s grown, as you’d expect, has two bottom teeth, one top, and is almost crawling. But his eyes are as blue as yours, and his hair as dark and curly as ever.”
“I can’t wait to see him,” she said wistfully. “Do you think he’ll recognize me?”
The car swung into the airport and drew up near the tarmac where the jet waited. “You’ll soon find out, amore,” he said. “We’ll be back on the island in a little more than three hours—just enough time to enjoy a leisurely in-flight lunch with Giuliana and Lorenzo, who are also headed home today.”
When he stepped into the main cabin, however, he discovered his parents were onboard, as well. “This is unexpected,” he remarked, noting the open bottle of champagne and general air of festivity. “I was under the impression you were staying in Milan for the next few days.”
His mother nodded. “We were, but plans changed at the last minute.”
He swung his gaze to Maeve, who appeared not the least taken aback by their presence. “You don’t seem surprised,” he said.
“I’m not,” she informed him airily. “I invited your parents to join us when I visited Celeste this morning.”
Celeste? Invited?
“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “Anything else I should know about?”
Giuliana snickered into her champagne. No great surprise there. She’d always been a giggler. It used to drive him crazy when they were young.
“A little dinner party for six tonight,” Maeve warbled. “I phoned Antonia from your mom’s this morning to arrange it. It seemed only right that the whole family should be there to celebrate the grand reunion.”
“A glass of champagne, son?” his father asked.
“I need something stronger, Babbo,” he said. “Make it a Scotch, instead.”
Almost midnight, with a light breeze lifting the filmy drapes at the open bedroom doors behind her, and the slate tiles beneath her bare feet still warm from the afternoon sun. Across the sea, lights twinkled on the Tunisian coast. The end of a glorious, momentous day, Maeve thought, breathing deeply of the sweetly scented air.
So many memories. Celeste smiling conspiratorially at her across the aircraft cabin. Dario’s face, priceless in its astonishment. “People don’t effect a coup like this and get away with it,” he’d threatened her in an undertone, when they sat down for lunch. “You’re safe enough now, but you’ll pay for this later, once we’re alone.”
Arriving at the villa, to find the entire household staff waiting on the front steps to welcome her home. Flowers in every room. Her little niece, Cristina, adorable in white embroidered cotton and lace, planting a shy kiss on her cheek and calling her Zia Maeve. Enrica, the cook, taking her aside to consult on the dinner menu. “Does it meet with your approval, Signora Costanzo?”
Dario disappearing briefly, then returning with their son and placing him in her arms. To hold him again, to smell his sweet, clean baby smell, feel his breath against her neck, his chubby fingers clutching her hair, the warmth of his little body against hers, his wide smile not quite as gummy anymore…that was a heaven on earth made all the more unforgettable by the emotional response of those who witnessed it. Lorenzo and Edmondo blinking furiously. Giuliana sobbing openly. Celeste dabbing fastidiously at her eyes with a scrap of lace that passed for a handkerchief. And Dario whispering, “Look, angelo mio, he remembers you. Sebastiano knows his mother.”
With a last glance at the star-studded night, Maeve turned and went on silent feet through the bedroom to the nursery. A lamp on the dresser sent out a soft glow, enough to show a yellow plush teddy bear sitting in the rocking chair near the window. She crossed to the crib and looked at her sleeping son. He lay on his back with his arms outflung.
“Perfect, isn’t he?” Dario whispered, coming up behind her and slipping his arm around her waist.
“Perfect,” she echoed, and pressing a kiss to her fingertip, she placed it gently on her baby’s rosy cheek. “I love him so much.”
Dario turned her away. “And I love you. Come to bed now, my darling, and let me show you how much.”
She went with him, his words alone enough to unfurl the passion always lurking in her soul. She was home at last. The two people who meant the most to her were under this one roof.
They loved her.
She loved them.
It was enough. It was everything.
Joy spilled over her, rich and warm and forever.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5505-4
THE COSTANZO BABY SECRET
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2009 by Catherine Spencer.
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