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Still, it doesn’t solve everything. “What does this mean for the future? What if they refuse to accept her choice, and she ends up spending the rest of her life questioning her decision to be with me? How do I live with that possibility?”
“You take a leap of faith and trust things are going to work out. It’s all you can do.” When I sit back with a groan, she asks, “You’re sure you love the girl?”
“I love her so much that I hate her for it sometimes.”
I’m ashamed of myself for saying it, but all she does is offer a knowing smile. “Yes, that sounds about right. Only the people you love the most can make you feel that way.”
“What do I do? How do I make this work with everything stacked against us?”
“If it’s real, you will find a way,” she assures me.
“That’s not good enough,” I insist.
“You’ll figure it out together because she loves you too.” I can’t believe she would laugh at a time like this, but she does, shaking her head. “There’s nothing like a fight in the beginning when you first get together. It feels like the end of the world, but you get over it.”
“This isn’t some childish argument,” I mutter.
“So why are you sulking here like a child?” she asks.
I doubt Emilia could say something like that without my temper flaring. Mama might be the only one who can, and even then, it’s not easy to keep myself in check at the insult. “I was afraid of what might happen if I didn’t leave.”
Her lips draw together in a disapproving frown, but she still nods. “Sometimes it is best to walk away and cool off. But you aren’t solving anything by hanging around here. That girl is down there all alone, probably crying her heart out because she’s stuck between what she wants and what she knows the consequences are going to be. That’s not your fault. She chose you. She had to know there would be challenges. But, son, you’re not helping by becoming angry. You’re only adding to the problem.” She reaches across the counter to squeeze my hand, then turns away at the whistling kettle.
I mull it over while she fixes a cup of tea. How am I supposed to help Emilia through this when it’s obvious she sees me as part of the problem? “I can’t lose her,” I grunt out.
“The only way you could lose her is if you let your pride get in the way again.” She gives me a stern gaze over her shoulder. “It hurt your pride to think she might hesitate to introduce her family to the one she’s part of now. You want everything to be easy for her. You don’t want her to ever regret choosing you.”
“That’s true,” I admit, as much as I hate to.
“Try to keep that in mind the next time there’s an argument brewing. There’s nothing wrong with being disappointed, but taking it out on her is unacceptable. I raised you better than that.” She pats my shoulder in passing, and for a moment, I wish life was as simple as back in the day when a pat on the shoulder or a tight hug fixed things. “You’re better than that. I know you are.”
I have my doubts. “I want to be better for her.”
She passes again in the other direction, only this time, she gives me a gentle shove. “For heaven’s sake, Luca, support her.”
I must be the world’s biggest ass. Everything Mom says makes sense. I needed to be in the right headspace to hear it.
She releases a soft chuckle while perching on a stool across from mine. “You might not believe me now, but there’s going to come a time when you look back and wish you two were having fights like this.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I get up to toss the rest of my sandwich, shaking my head at the idea.
“You would because you’re still young.” A smile plays at the corners of her mouth as she sets her delicate China cup onto its saucer. “Years from now, when you’re bouncing grandbabies on your knee, you’ll wish things were this simple again. These silly understandings only flare up when you’re in the beginning together. When you have plenty of time ahead of you, you’ll wish you could go back.” She’s not talking about me anymore, not when her gaze is unfocused and there’s sadness hanging in her voice. Regret, maybe.
My chest goes tight, forcing me to address the obvious as I slowly approach her. “Mama. Tell me the truth. What’s wrong with Papa? Is he sick?”
She may as well be a robot following instructions, sitting up straighter, smiling unnaturally. The warmth in her eyes has melted away, replaced by a pale imitation. The way you smile when you’re trying to be polite or avoid hurting someone’s feelings. Not that I’ve ever wasted much time with that, but she excels at it. “What would give you that idea? You’re too much like me. You worry about things when you feel like you’re out of control in other areas. Don’t do that to yourself.”
Then she stands, making my heart sink as I watch her move slowly to grab the sugar bowl from the other end of the island like there’s an invisible weight dragging her down. There’s nothing I can do but wish she would share with me, but then I have no doubt she’s been forbidden against it by Papa.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you a favor,” I tell her. Originally, this was supposed to be about Emilia and me, but now it might also serve to take Mama’s mind off of Papa since I’ve clearly upset her. “I was thinking about going to the house in the Hamptons for a week. Someplace quiet where she can enjoy a little more freedom. I’ll still be in contact, but she needs a change of scenery, and you know we have a team in case we need them, which I doubt we will.” And we could use some time to ourselves.
“Of course she does.” Mama wears a radiant smile again as she stirs her tea. “That’s a wonderful idea. Certainly, it shouldn’t take more than a day’s notice to have the place ready for you.”
“I doubt Dante will think it’s wonderful,” I point out, imagining his shitty reaction, but I can’t bring myself to care enough to change my mind.
“I’ll deal with him,” she promises, and I don’t have the heart to snicker when she looks happy. She has much more faith in him than I do. Then again, I’m sure he feels the same way when it comes to me. My mother and I have always had a special connection, and it’s always pissed him off.
“For now…” Mama concludes, “… you go back down to your house, you apologize, and you tell her you were the world’s biggest idiot for getting angry. You tell her you’ll do anything she needs. Capisci?” she adds, narrowing her eyes.
