40. Dario
DARIO
I stand on the Sicilian beach with Sonny on my shoulders, looking out at the ocean.
“Look there, Daddy! Is that a shark?”
“No, buddy. It’s a dolphin.”
“Are dolphins nice?”
“Sometimes.”
“I want to ride one.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about riding one, but I bet if we ask the resort we could swim with them.”
“Really?” His voice lights up.
“You’re spoiling him,” Liana points out, and I just nod.
“Yep.”
She scoffs. “Your ass is gonna be on the line when he’s an entitled teenager.”
“Mama, what’s entitled?” Sonny asks, but he pronounces it like “en-tit-led" and Dario bursts out laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, baby.”
“I couldn’t spoil him for five years, gotta make up for it now.”
I put Sonny down on the sand. “Why don’t you show us your best castle?”
“I haven’t built a good enough one yet,” he says, determination evident on his small features. “I’ll be right back.”
He heads to the water with his pail, looking for all the world like a little businessman.
Tears spring to my eyes and I groan.
“I’m like a fucking water faucet,” I grumble, and Liana laughs softly, positioning herself in my lap when I sit down on a beach towel.
I draw her back into my arms. She’s slightly wet but her skin is heated by the sun. Little grains of sand prick my arms.
“A lot has happened. It’s okay to be emotional.”
“I’m not emotional.”
“Okay, Mr. Crybaby,” she teases, and kisses me when I pout.
“It’s time to take Sonny back to Marie,” I say, looking at the sky. “Want to get to the cemetery before dark.”
Liana nods. “Are you... are you sure you wanna do this today?”
I sigh. “I’m not sure if I ever want to do it, but I feel like I need to.”
Per their wishes, my parents’ bodies were flown back to Sicily to be buried in the family plot. I haven’t been to visit.
I told myself it’s because it’s so far away, because I can’t take the time off—any number of lies. But really, I feel like seeing their gravestones is going to break me.
It’ll make it real. Not like they’re on some long, extended trip overseas and just can’t contact me. I used to dream about that, dream they got lost on some island somewhere and just couldn’t get home.
I’d wake up smiling with tears on my cheeks.
Sonny puts up a bit of a fuss about leaving.
“I didn’t finish my castle,” he whines, and I can hear in his voice that he’s just tired.
I scoop him up into my arms and he wriggles but then settles, his head dropping on my shoulder as I carry him back down the beach.
He’s asleep before I even get him in the bed.
Marie smiles, knitting in the corner. “You two off somewhere?”
“Seeing the sights,” I lie, and Liana raises an eyebrow.
“Sonny and I will be just fine here.”
“Thank you, Marie,” Liana says. We head back out to the car I rented and she frowns at me. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly in a mumble. “I don’t really know how it’ll go, I guess.”
She reaches over to take my hand and pulls it into her lap. I’m grateful, smiling at her.
“We’ll get through it. Together.”
When I pull up at the cemetery, it takes me half an hour to get out. I’m trembling all over.
“It’s okay, baby. We can come back another day—”
“No,” I say firmly. “No, I’ve got to do this now before I chicken out.”
I slowly get out of the car and Liana follows. It’s a short walk up to the plot my family is buried in, and I find my grandmother’s grave first.
Elena Ricci-Conte
1945-2020
She’d lived a hell of a long life, right here in Sicily.
She’d wanted my parents to go to the States to have a better life, and look what happened.
My eyes move over to my father’s grave and then my mother’s, and my eyes fill with tears, blurring the names and dates.
Liana stands close to me, not touching but ready.
I take her hand.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble to the gravestones. I know they’re gone. I know they can’t hear me. But I need to say it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the best son.”
Liana loops her arm through mine and squeezes it tight.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know how lucky I was to have you,” I continue, my voice cracking. Sobs shake my shoulders, and Liana holds me close, not speaking, just being there.
We sit down in front of the gravestones, and I keep talking.
“This is my wife, Liana. I told you about her, a long time ago. After she left, I wasn’t... I wasn’t myself. And I took it out on you. You have a grandson. He’s perfect. I wish... I wish things had been different.”
Liana lets out a sob and I move to put an arm around her.
“The last time I spoke to you, Papa, I was awful to you. I know you were just worried about me. I wish...” My voice breaks. “I wish I’d understood how much you loved me. I wish you’d known how much I loved you. Both of you.”
Liana and I sit there for a long time, until dusk comes and the sky turns pink and purple.
Finally, I stand up, tugging her with me. My legs have practically gone to sleep so I have to walk around a bit before getting into the car.
We head back to the hotel in silence, and when we’re back in bed together, we make love, unhurried and intimate.
I look into her eyes while I enter her. I love it when the sex is rough and dirty, but I love it just as much when it’s like this. When I can see her face, see how much she loves me in those gray eyes.
“I love you, Liana Conte,” I murmur against her mouth, and I feel her smile.
“I love you, Dario Conte.”
The honeymoon lasts another week, but I think that was my favorite day, spending time with Sonny at the beach, visiting my parents, and then making love to my wife.
Sonny and I both sleep all the way back home on the flight, and Liana teases us both for it.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know he was yours that first night, when he nearly slept through everything.”
I chuckle, yawning as I step off the jet. Sonny tiredly makes his way to my car, which is parked nearby, buckling himself in his seat in the back as I unlock the door with the fob.
When we arrive at home, he goes right up to bed, clearly exhausted. Liana takes my hand.
“You still look tired.”
“Jet lag is a bitch.”
She laughs. “I think it got Sonny, too. You want to go lie down? I didn’t sleep on the plane, so I’m kind of tired.”
“I slept twelve hours,” I mumble. “I shouldn’t be tired.”
“Like you said, jet lag is a bitch,” she jokes, and I groan, following her as she tugs me upstairs.
I strip out of my shirt and climb into bed in just my sweats. She changes into one of her lace nighties and gets into bed.
“Fuck. I thought we were sleeping.” I lick a stripe up her neck.
She giggles and pushes me away. “We are sleeping. Close your eyes.”
“No.” I stare at her and she laughs again.
“Baby. You’re tired. You’ve seen me every minute of every day for two weeks, aren’t you tired of me?”
“Never. I could never get tired of you, belissima.”
She grins at me. “Well, good. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you either.”
But then she pauses, looks up at me, biting her lip.
“What’s wrong, Li?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
I frown. “Don’t lie to me, belissima.”
“I’m fine,” she insists.
“Alright,” I say, huffing out a breath, but I feel unseasy all the same.
Is my perfect little life not as perfect as I think?