3. Luca
Chapter three
Luca
I hear the chirp of my cell—a text from Dante letting me know he’s here. I slip on the flip-flops I keep by the door and head outside. In the small driveway is an army of people, all holding shit for my kid. My chest clenches, but I push the emotion down, much like I do with everything else. I’m supposed to be the fun brother, the one that doesn’t cause too much stress, just good times and fun vibes.
“So much for only bringing your wife, huh, bud?” I call over to him, my smile strained.
He smiles back, shaking his head as his wife piles items into his arms.
I call over to Kat, “Hey, gorgeous girl, you get out of work early today?”
Kat gives me a knowing smile, always able to read my emotions, but never calls me out on them. She heads toward me, arms full of diapers, and knocks into me purposefully. She transitions some of the items into my hold as she gives me a small smirk. “Anything for you, stronzetto .” She chuckles as she passes by me into the house.
I roll my eyes. Clearly, after years of tormenting her fiancé—my oldest brother—about our mother’s nickname for him, “rattino,” or little rat, she decided to give me one of her own. One that the entire family followed suit on: “you little shit.”
I see my mother wheel herself to the door, formula and bottles in her lap as she makes her way up the ramp I had installed as soon as I moved in. She looks up at me, blue eyes gleaming brightly as she chortles. “You’ve really done it now,” she tells me as she makes her way into the house. Don’t I know it?
“Sure have,” I groan, and head down the steps, helping to unload everything else from the car. Ale, Dante, and Arielle all work to unload the vehicle, each of them smiling ear to ear. I look over at Lark as Dante grabs the box of wipes out of her arms, replacing them with a single roll of paper towels. She rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t argue. She recently gave birth to my newest nephew, Jeremy, who decided to make his big entry into the world a day after his parents’ small garden wedding.
“Gi couldn’t make it to this little pity party?” I ask her, my tone teasing.
Her cheeks still flame at the mention of my brother. Those two must do some seriously kinky shit with the way she’s always blushing.
“He’s coaching the kids’ soccer team, but he said to let you know he’ll give you a call in the morning to check in.” She looks at me sympathetically.
I give her a nod, slam the trunk of the Tahoe closed, and follow everyone into my little blue house.
Everyone piles the items at the entryway or on the kitchen counter before getting to work. Each one of them busies themselves with a task. Lark starts by cleaning up the couple of dishes I have in the sink, then moves to cleaning all the baby bottles and on to reorganize my kitchen cabinets, making space for the baby items to all be in one place.
Dante is in my room with Arielle, setting up the bedside bassinet and what I think is some sort of dresser and changing station on wheels.
Luckily, having such a big family with nieces and nephews around means I’m at least familiar with what each of these things is used for. I can’t imagine doing any of this if that weren’t the case. I’d be totally lost . Hell, I’m sure I will be soon enough.
Ale is seated on the gray wooden floor, surrounded by plastic baskets in shades of gray and navy, labeling each one and filling them with clothes, diapers, diaper rash creams, binkies, and all sorts of other items I guess I’ll be needing to have in my home now.
“You guys don’t think this is all a bit much? We don’t even know what the test says yet.” I shift uncomfortably as they all watch me.
Ale pushes himself up off the floor to come stand beside me. He places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “If she’s not yours, we’ll donate everything, return it all, or use it on the kids. Whatever you want. But if she is yours, at least you’ll be ready. Okay?”
As usual, Ale is the leader of the group. When he says we’ll make this work, he means it with his whole heart.
I nod, hoping that his confidence will make its way into me as I head to my room to grab laundry and make myself useful.
***
Some of the weight has lifted off my chest over the last few hours. My blood still feels like it’s buzzing, but at least I can take a full breath.
“You guys really don’t have to wait around with me, you know. Gi shouldn’t have to wrangle the kids all by himself, and we don’t even know if they’ll call tonight.” I say this, but in reality, I don’t want them to go. I’m afraid that the moment they leave, everything will come crashing down around me, and I won’t be able to hold myself up without them.
I’ve never truly had to do anything alone. My family has always been here for me.
“Kat, Lark, and I will go help Gi with the kids, and someone will call us when you find out,” Ale tells me. He takes on his role as “big brother” even at thirty-five years old. He still can’t seem to leave that particular personality trait behind.
Rather than argue, I just agree, closing the door behind them.
Mom smiles at me from her seat beside the couch and pats the armrest. “Come sit down.”
I know she’s trying to help, but I’m not sure anything could work right now.
Reluctantly, I take a seat beside her, but it makes me feel even more restless.
***
Mom laughs beside me as she keeps her eyes trained on the reality TV show she put on in an attempt to distract me from my racing thoughts. Unfortunately, it hasn’t helped.
Sitting down is only adding to my anxiety. I’m itching to get up and work on something, eager to do anything to keep my mind busy until I know for sure what my future holds. Never in a million years would I have imagined this day going the way it has. So much about my life has changed in mere hours.
My heart is racing so fast, I’m fighting to sit still. My leg is bouncing a mile a minute as every second ticks on.
This wait is killing me.
I practically jump out of my skin when I feel the familiar buzz of my cell pressing against my leg. My ringtone blares with one of my favorite songs. 1
Mom’s fingers snap in front of my face, pulling me from my daze. “Pick it up already!”
I grapple for the phone, sliding it unlocked and bringing the speaker to my ear. “This is Luca.”
“Mr. De Laurentiis, this is Stacey from Philadelphia Regional Hospital. I apologize for the late hour. I wanted to get this message to you as quickly as possible, given the circumstances. Are you available to speak?” she asks.
“Yeah, now would be great. Thanks for calling,” I tell her, eager to find out my fate.
“Before I provide the results, would you mind confirming your date of birth and address as well? I need to be sure I’m speaking to the correct person.”
I give her my details, and once I’m done, she says, “You are the father. Your paternity test came back with a confirmatory result with matching alleles.”
My breath catches in my lungs. I’m the father.
Just like that. My entire world has been flipped upside down, and I don’t have a single fucking clue what I’m going to do about it. My jaw aches, I hadn’t even realized I was clenching it so tightly.
“Mr. De Laurentiis, did you hear me?” Stacey asks.
Clearing my throat, I take in the watchful eyes surrounding me, silent as they take in my expression. “Yes, yes. I heard you. Thank you for the information.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. De Laurentiis. I hope things work themselves out okay. Have a good rest of your evening.”
“Thanks, you too,” I grunt, hanging up.
I hang my head between my shoulders, releasing a long, calming breath. When I finally look up, it’s my father’s empathetic green eyes that I focus on as I speak my next words.
“ I’m the father ,” I tell my family. My heart is starting to race again, and while I know this is the information I’ve been waiting for, I’m fucking scared.
I’m not cut out to be a father. I can barely take care of myself.
Hell, I beat myself up every time a puck slips past me and blame every loss on myself. And I’ve been playing hockey my whole life. This is all so new to me, and there are a seemingly endless number of ways in which I could mess this up.
“Alright, what next then?” my mom asks, appraising me warily.
Taking another steadying breath, I tell her, “I guess I contact the social worker and go to court tomorrow. We’ll see what happens. If the judge doesn’t grant me temporary custody, it’s all kind of a moot point for now.”
They each nod slowly, afraid to say anything. “Can you call him now?” Dad asks.
“That’s probably a good idea,” I agree, heading to my room to give him a call and see where we go from here.
1. Fake It — Seether