Chapter 2 #2
He and Rio are doing a slashing motion with their hands at their necks.
They think so much alike that it’s scary.
Jett curses under his breath for giving Brooke his phone.
Zach looks towards me, like he's expecting me to fix things.
Matteo's arm tightens possessively around Elizabeth's shoulder and he hugs her closer to him, but says nothing.
I walk over to Brooke, reach over and gently take the phone. “Can I have that please, sweetie?”
Brooke hands it over without complaint.
“Father.” I sound awkward. I point the phone at me, so that he can see my face, and I can see his.
I've taken one for the team and spared them, but I’m quickly startled by the face staring back at me.
Father's eyes look sunken, his skin is crepey, when it was always smooth, and he has more lines around his eyes. He looks thinner and his hair isn’t perfectly groomed.
I’ve never seen him like this, but I remind myself that it’s five weeks after his surgery.
Yet this image of him shocks me. He was always so invincible. He always seemed larger than life, but now I see an old man who suddenly looks his years.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Perfect,” he replies, like he doesn't have a care in the world, but I can tell from his expression that this cuts deeper than he’s letting on.
He's being looked after very well at home with a top medical team. He rarely calls, so I wonder what prompted this, and why he'd call Jett of all people.
Or perhaps he wasn't trying to at all. And maybe Brooke called him by accident.
“What are you all doing?”
I swallow. “We're about to have lunch. Mama invited us over.”
Father is silent.
Behind me, someone hisses “Why d'you go and tell him?” and then Mama softly
says, “It's okay. We're not doing anything illegal.”
“You're all at Isabella's apartment?”
He's always called her Isabella.
“Yes.” My mouth has gone dry and any moment now I'm going to need a glass of water. Or try to end the conversation fast.
“Your mother is still here?”
My brothers chuckle like Father's shock is so satisfying for them to hear.
“Yes.” I’m going to need that glass of water.
Father nods. “Interesting. Where does she live?”
“It doesn't matter where she lives.” There is no way I'm giving him Mama’s address. He lost the right to know anything about her on that fateful day.
Mama holds out her hand for the phone, so I pass it to her.
“Paul.” Her voice is calm as she stares at him.
“Isab—”
“You do not need to ask my boys where I am or where I live.” Her voice is low and steady, and stronger than mine was. “What I do here is my choice, not yours. My life, not yours. My business, not yours.” She pauses. “You should look after yourself.”
“You look well,” Father says.
“Keep well.” Mama ends the conversation abruptly and hands the phone back to me.
I clear my throat. “We’re about to have lunch.”
“Yes,” Father says after a pause. “I'll leave you to it.”
I end the call.
The silence lingers for a moment before Jett swipes his phone from me.
“Why did Brooke even have your phone?” Dex demands.
Jett slides it into the pocket of his jeans. “I let her play with it.”
“Why don't you buy her her own iPad?” Dex asks.
“No technical gadgets for my girl for as long as I can help it.”
Rio snorts. “Then what's she doing on your phone?”
Jett inhales a long breath, appearing to think about it. “She ate all her vegetables.”
Dex mutters something like this being unbelievable.
“You have good fatherly instincts, Jett,” Mama says.
Jett's expression softens and he thanks her for the compliment. The conversation moves on. Almost. Because nobody mentions the enormous elephant in the room. Nobody talks about the fact that Father has seen all of us together and about to share a family meal without him.
Like this is what we've always done.
Like this is what a family looks like.
These get-togethers at Mama's place have been healing. I sense that it's not only me who feels this way, not only Rio and Matteo either. It’s been good for the others.
Dex still cracks jokes, but he's so respectful around Mama.
Jett surprises me the most. He warms to Mama in a way I never expected.
He's always offering to carry things for her or help her in the kitchen, and sometimes I wonder if, through Mama, he's getting a tiny piece of something he lost far too soon with his own mother.
And Zach is fond of her, too.
Coming here, we all get to have Mama all over again.
Mama cooking for us, instead of us talking to her on a video call with thousands of miles separating us.
Here, we all sit around a table, with Mama, my brothers and their partners, and little Brooke.
And at every meal I look around the table at all the people who make up my family, and I feel such a precious sense of belonging.
I leave Mama's get-togethers not just with a full belly, but a full heart.
Finally, I make a stab at conversation. “So ...” I glance at everyone. “Are we going to talk about Father?”
Everyone looks at me.
“He's recovering well,” Matteo says.
Rio exhales loudly. “He sounds stronger.”
“He does,” Dex agrees.
“I suppose the doctors are happy with how the transplant's gone,” I say.
Soon we're talking about his recovery, his medication and ongoing medical needs. About how long before he's properly back on his feet.
Zach doesn’t say a word.
Mama looks around at all of us before finally speaking.”I love that you are all here, and I need you all to understand that your father not being here is not your doing.”
I glance around at everyone. Jett looks like he wants to say something, but he's holding back. Dex, too.
Everyone is quiet.
Mama smiles at Brooke, before clasping her hands together. “I'm leaving for Soave soon, but I wanted to have this one final meal, for now. I will be back,” she assures us, looking at us one by one and smiling. “It makes me truly happy to see all of you sitting around the table together.”
Murmurs of appreciation go around the table. People thank her for saying such lovely words, for reminding us of who we are.
Of helping to bring us all together. I hear echoes of the guilt I sense she still carries some guilt for Aurora. Everyone starts helping themselves to the food spread across the table.
“Mama,” I place my hand over hers. “You did this.” I glance around the table. “You.”
She smiles.
We start to fill our plates, but I can't help but think of Father. He has all the riches and success, yet he's recovering from surgery alone in that glittering penthouse tower that overlooks the Manhattan skyline.
He has all the wealth in the world, and yet he's the poorest man I know.