Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
JUDE
Isabella. Of course. Not that Daddy had agreed to adopt her.
But I read the writing on the wall. If I wanted this fantastical life, she’d be a part of it and I’d be the primary caretaker, since he’d be working all day.
I felt his studied gaze, waiting for my reply.
“I can’t answer until I’ve been with her.
You’re the one who suggested spending time with her.
I’ll answer you when the trial period is up. Isabella might not like me.”
He raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Tesoro, she’s three days old.”
I sat back, my eyes glazed over. I blinked and shook out of my temporary stupor. “It truly is a miracle, isn’t it? Only days old Daddy. It’s kind of crazy.”
“It is, and thank you for giving the best reaction possible,” he said.
“Was that a test, Daddy?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
We finished our meal, which was the best seafood ever. When we returned to the hotel, we went to the rooftop for the sunset, made out under the canopied lounger, then went to bed where Daddy fucked me into oblivion.
I slept like the dead and before I knew it, Daddy’s morning wood was nudging my ass.
He slipped in for a quickie, after which we showered and dressed, then left our room.
In the parking lot, he walked me to my car.
Tossing my duffle in the back seat, he pulled me to him by my waist and kissed me thoroughly, leaving me breathless.
“Drive safe, tesoro.”
“I will, Daddy. I’m going to search for a podcast in Italian.”
“You’ll learn quickly in Italy because you’ll be immersed. And I’ll begin speaking more Italian than English at home.” He kissed my cheek. “But I’m glad you’re thinking ahead.”
Then he was walking to his truck, and I found myself putting my car in gear and driving toward a four-day-old baby who was going to prove to be my end or my happy future.
Was I nervous? Fucking terrified. But of what really?
Maybe I was more concerned that I’d be second place to Ethan.
The way he explained his feelings made sense.
It was giving up sexy times with Daddy anytime we got the urge.
What I knew about taking an infant home was from my sister; her complaints were about endless sleepless nights, pre-dawn feedings, and a ton of worry when the infant was irritable and crying.
But not being able to verbalize their problems, my sister said she’d throw herself onto her bed with a pillow over her head.
Right. What was saving me from not turning around and heading in the opposite direction was the fact my sister was a drama queen.
Although I understood that an infant had their own internal clock for feeding and sleeping, how bad could it really be?
I planned to depend on Mamma and knew she’d help me navigate the ins and outs and tricks of parenthood.
I also wanted to talk to her about my conversation with Daddy about real love.
When did a person know for sure? How did she know with Frank?
She’d mentioned the onset of their relationship to me months ago.
It was another time I’d needed advice from someone that I both respected and trusted.
I’d called Frank for her number and when I’d arrived, we’d sat in the kitchen drinking tea and eating lemon cookies.
From then on, I really did consider her a surrogate mother, much like Ethan did.
Thus, I believed she was the best possible person to help me navigate being around an infant.
Isabella. Naming her what I had chosen was just like Ethan, despite what I’d done to him.
I honestly didn’t know sometimes how he could love me.
But I felt the ferocity of his love deep in my heart.
As I pondered what the next few days were going to be like, I sped by exit after exit.
Oceanside was only seventy-five miles or so away from Costa Mesa where Frank lived.
Their neighborhood he was in was an affluent area.
He’d mentioned once that he wasn’t sure if he could afford his own home the way prices had skyrocketed over the last twenty years.
However, he’d purchased his as a fixer-upper when the prices were low.
Mamma had been fast to praise her husband for having accomplished half the modifications by himself.
I turned onto Colleen Place. They were at the end of a cul-de-sac in a single-story with an open concept, mid-century vibe; very different from what I’d expected to see on my first visit.
I was ashamed to admit that with Mamma being a homey, Italian mother, I’d expected dark woods and memorabilia of her family on every surface and wall.
To my surprise, the walls were white with pastel artwork hanging.
The furniture was sleek, also upholstered in white and eggshell with colorful accent pillows and area rugs.
The kitchen was high-end, with a large marble breakfast bar, white cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances—except for the immense six-burner ceramic stove with midnight-blue tiles for the backsplash.
She definitely had photos of her family but they were interspersed artistically and weren’t the focal point of the décor.
Driving down the street, I saw Ethan’s truck was there already and wondered how fast he’d been speeding because I drove above speed limit.
No sooner had I pulled into the driveway and parked when the front door swung open.
Ethan jogged to meet me as I climbed out and stretched, grabbing me by the waist and tugging me close for a chaste kiss. “I had my phone out to text you. Come on, let’s go in.”
He moved toward the house, and I froze with an out-of-body coldness that stopped me dead. “I’m nervous, Daddy. I was good the whole ride, thinking about seeing her, and now… I’m suddenly freaking out. Feel my hands. They’re like ice.”
Daddy came back and pressed me against my car. He grabbed my nape and rubbed his thumb along the front of my throat. I guess he figured since the dominant gesture worked at the restaurant last night, he’d use the pressure on my breathing to relax me now. “Tesoro, what’s in your head?”
“What if I don’t like her? What if I stare down at her and… and is it possible that she doesn’t like me? Maybe my voice is too harsh. Or she doesn’t like my face.”
Daddy added pressure. “Listen to me. Isabella can only see shadows. By the time she’s able to see your face, she’ll see the beautiful man that I do. As for your voice, it’s melodic. The way you sang the Gloria in church melted my insides.”
“You remember?”
“Of course, I do. If you don’t like her and you can’t see yourself holding her or being with her, you’re going to be patient and try again tomorrow.
” With his hand gripping my throat and his thumb sinking into my flesh, he spoke behind my ear, low and dominant.
“You’re allowed to be nervous, feel fear, anything, baby.
Neither Frank nor Mamma are going to think less of you.
Neither will I. This is a big deal. But you’ll try this for me, si? ”
I looked up at pools of aqua, the depths of which I was still learning. But I knew what love looked like in those green orbs. And over the last three days, he’d never wavered. Never lost his belief in me.
He loosened his hold and stroked lightly where his thumb had been. And then he kissed me hard. He didn’t rush, not caring whether anyone was watching. He let his tongue dance and tangle with mine until I needed air.
“Si, Babbo. I’ll do it for you.”
“That’s my good baby,” he praised and let his hand slide down to my back. “Now take a nice deep breath and let it out with me.”
I inhaled and exhaled a few beats longer and when he clasped my hand in his, I was ready. “Okay, Daddy. Panic gone.”
Entering the house, there was a foyer with a glass console table and a beautiful watercolor of horses running on what looked like packed dirt, their long manes flowing in the wind.
Pastel colored mesas typical of a New Mexico landscape served as a backdrop.
It usually gave me a sense of freedom, but not today.
Daddy tugged me down the long hallway that led into the formal living and dining rooms and then on through to an expansive kitchen. We continued through to the back of the house and the family room that opened up onto the patio.
“Where are they?” I asked, then realized Frank would be at work. Having Daddy at home during the week was a unique occurrence.
“I don’t know,” Daddy said, then walked to the patio doors. “Out here.” He waved his hand, gesturing for me to follow him.
Crossing the threshold, I saw Mamma. The itsy infant was on her shoulder with a tiny blanket over her back. I just saw her head and black hair, like Ethan’s.
Mamma saw us and walked over.
Speaking in a tone just above a whisper, I asked her, “Is it safe to have her outside?”
Mamma let out a soft chuckle. “In Italy, women who work in the olive fields carry their infants on their backs at a month old. She’s fine. The fresh air is good for her rather than always having the A/C on.”
Mamma held the back of her, hand splayed. “Is her neck not able to hold up her head?”
“No, not until three months old,” Mamma said.
Daddy’s smile widened, his eyes bright with love. He pulled me to him, my back to his chest, so we were both watching her. “Daddy,” I whispered, “Her skin is like light toast whereas your is dark toast.”
Daddy bit my earlobe.
“Ouch, that was meant as a compliment.”
“You know I take any opportunity to nibble on you. As for the color of her eyes, we won’t know for sure until she’s at least six months old. Some babies don’t grow into their natural color until one year.”
“She’s been out long enough. Go sit in the family room on the sofa. I’ll change her diaper and then you can hold her. She’ll be asleep for a while yet. Have you had lunch?”
Following Mamma inside, Daddy said, “Not yet. Do you want me to run out and get something?”