31. Aria
31
ARIA
T he tables on the patio are set, decorations and place settings all laid out and ready for our guests who are beginning to arrive. Today is a celebration both of life and of victory, and almost everyone will be here… except Jasper. It's bittersweet for me, knowing I will never see my brother again, but knowing my family is safe now and that the war, for now, is over, is a huge relief.
Tito stands next to me, surveying the spread. I've had everything decorated perfectly, floral arrangements, catering, even soft music playing through speakers set up for this intimate garden party. His hand in the small of my back is reassuring but not demeaning. It's been three weeks since the night of the attack and subsequent retaliation, and things are finally calm.
Tito's father was able to get all the money-laundering charges against him dropped and his name cleared. And as it turns out, Peter's father has made peace with my father and Donatello, though I'm not sure whether I've had any influence in that matter. Exposing Carlos's ill intent was a strategic move that helped peel back some of those layers, but I know the three men met a few times and worked things out, and today, we can breathe a little easier. Albeit without Carlos around.
"It's a sad day, and yet still happy." Tito sighs, and I feel the weight of that emotion too.
"Yes, it is. I wish our whole family could be here." My sentiment finds agreement in his nod and the way his expression calms as he presses his lips to my temple.
"Jasper is with us in spirit, and maybe one day, Carlos will be able to find his way back to us." He carries weight he shouldn’t have to.
We've had a few really long talks about the entire thing, and I've come to realize, with Tito's help, that Carlos was always going to do what he did. He had a gentle nudge in that direction from me, but whether it happened before or after their father's death, he was going to try to take over. It was inevitable. Tito had seen it coming for years. It breaks my heart because I wish for Tito's sake that he'd have grown up in a family more like mine, where honoring our father was the only thing that mattered.
"He will," I say, turning to face him. He faces me, and I splay my hands on his chest and tilt my chin upward to accept a kiss. Things haven't been the same since Tito learned how close he came to losing everything—the family, the power, the money, even me. He's different, softer.
"I have what I need most right here," he says, holding me against himself. His lips are tender on mine and his stubble scratches my chin.
"Get a room!" Melody calls out, chuckling at our display of affection as she leads Mom and Dad onto the patio. Tony nods at us from the door, having escorted them through the home. It's the first time I've seen Mel in weeks. I pull away from Tito to hug her and breathe her in.
"I'm so glad you could make it," I whisper, knowing how challenging it must be to return to LA after she was attacked.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Melody hugs me back as Tito shakes hands with my father who has fully recovered from his smoke inhalation. Mom has bandages on her arms and likely on her chest beneath the blue blouse she wears, but she looks happy. I pull away from Melody to embrace Mom.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, knowing she's well on the way to being recovered. I've spent hours every day at their house caring for her and even learning to change her bandages. Now that Melody is home, she'll take that over, but I'll still visit often.
"I'm feeling as good as can be expected. I just wish Jasper were here." Mom's eyes always sparkle with emotion. She probably wishes both of her late sons could be here. I know I do.
"He's here in spirit." I press my hand to my stomach knowing today is the day I will tell everyone the secret I've been hiding. They deserve to know, and I want to tell them now. I know that the little one growing in my womb will lead our family forward, the entire Peralta-Ramiro clan, not just my father's legacy. And it will be this way whether I have a boy or a girl. I'll see to that.
"You're right," Mom says, squeezing my arm, and we're distracted by some boisterous laughter near the door as Donatello is pushed through the doorway in his wheelchair. With Tony and Sal at the helm bickering and laughing playfully, I feel like things are more than back to normal.
"Bumbling idiots," Tito mumbles, but he laughs too. I can still see the pain in his eyes. He wishes Carlos were here, but that won't happen for a while. He's off on his own, trying to right the wrongs he started. He's in debt to the Russians, and he'll have to find a way to make that right or he'll continue to suffer. I know Tito will help him out in a split second if he asks, but for now, Carlos is too prideful, his ego too wounded.
"Be nice," I chide him and swat his backside. I peck Dad on the cheek as I walk past, maneuvering myself so I can nudge the men out of the way and push my father-in-law's wheelchair into the shade near a table. We'll have a few more guests—cousins on both sides—but the people who matter most are here, and I am too excited to wait any longer.
I push Donatello up to the table and he smiles at me. He's almost nonverbal at this point and probably should be in bed, but he insisted on coming today, one final hurrah before death comes calling. I lock the wheelchair in place and reach down and take his hand and pat it.
"This is for you," I tell him, knowing a dying man's wish is only for his family to be whole. One day, I will have to face this goodbye with my father, and I can only guess how it will affect Tito, but I want Donatello to know joy before he goes to his grave. His eyebrows rise in curiosity as I say, "Can everyone listen for a second?"
Slowly, the chatter and greetings quiet. Tony stands once again in the doorway while Sal and the rest of the family quiet down. Mom and Dad sit at the table with Tito's father, and I clear my throat. No one, not even Melody, knows what I’m about to say, but they all look at me with expectation.
I'm nervous to make this announcement because I don't know how it will be taken by everyone. I expect my father to be thrilled and Donatello to be proud. Tito, I'm not sure. But I know it's inevitable, and I want everyone to learn at the same time, get all those reactions out of the way at once.
"I, uh… I have something to tell you all and I'm excited about it." I bite my lower lip and watch as Melody's lips curve upward into a grin. She's reading my mind. Mom folds her hands in her lap, and Dad rests his hand on the table. Tito joins me and places his hand in the small of my back again, and I'm instantly given more courage. "The past few months have been sort of chaotic. Some good things have happened, some not so good things." My sentence is punctuated by the silent weight of that statement, but I continue.
"And the best is yet to come…" I look up at Tito, whose face is serious and stern as always. He's not expecting this, and I hope his reaction is good. "The best for the Peraltas and the best for the Ramiros. I'm going to have the heir."
I let the words sink in, hovering in the air as they all understand what I’m trying to say. I don’t even look at the family. My biggest concern is what Tito thinks. His expression darkens, eyes hazing over with confusion then concern and then upset.
"You went into that warehouse into a shootout and you knew you were pregnant?" he asks, and I smile at his anger and protectiveness. It's how I know he loves me even when he's sometimes so angry or withdrawn that he can't show affection.
"Yes, of course." Wrapping my arms around his torso, I say, "Am I your partner or your wife?" And then I hear my father chuckle.
Dad laughs louder, causing Mom to laugh, then Melody. Tony and Sal join them in the fit, and if Donatello wasn't so sick, I am certain he would laugh too. It makes Tito seem angrier at first, and then he cracks, a smile forming on his lips as he hugs me hard and sways back and forth.
"Mrs. Ramiro, what will I ever do with you?" The moment is priceless, the two of us surrounded by our family in celebrating the newest Peralta-Ramiro to join the ranks.
"Love me?" I say playfully before he pecks me on the lips.
Everyone claps as I rest my head on his chest, finally settled in the idea that it doesn't matter whose heir my son or daughter is. We will love them the same. They will have both families to love and be loved by, and in the end, he or she will lead us all into the future, one where both families are one and strengthened in number and influence.
"Congratulations," my father cheers, and everyone here offers their congratulations too. It's a happier moment than I imagined as I lean on Tito and accept the celebratory cheers.
"You know this means diaper duty, right?" I say to him quietly, and he speaks to me out of the corner of his mouth.
"You know there will be no more shootouts until this child is at least five, right?" He tickles my side, and I snicker and squirm.
"Deal." After the last one, I have no intention of doing that again. I will help lead with my wisdom and let someone else be the muscle. As the Donna of the family, I'm all for letting others do my dirty work, including poopy diapers. But I'll love every second of motherhood, even if it means cleaning up vomit.
"I love you, Mr. Ramiro." I hug him a little tighter as he shakes his father's hand and the elderly Ramiro nods his praise.
"I love you too, Mrs. Ramiro," he growls as he leans down to kiss my cheek and nip at my ear. "Let's eat something. You're eating for two now. You've got to take that job seriously."
I couldn't be happier now, which I never saw coming. Mom was right. Over time, respect turned to affection, and that affection and fondness have formed an unshakeable bond. I'm better off because of where I am today, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.