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Battista only stared. He wasn’t a talker, could only say about twenty words, and never when you expected him to. His motor skills were definitely his strength.
I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Should I introduce Nevio as his father, or would that confuse Battista at this point and make everything worse? I’d often told him stories about his dad, that he had to leave for a while—something I’d always hoped—to be a hero. A white lie because Battista needed a hero in his life, even if Nevio hadn’t gone to fight for a good cause. He’d gone to help the Camorra in Italy. He’d also run, but Battista didn’t need to know that.
Nevio motioned at something beside the armrest of the sofa, a ride-on car that looked a bit like his Ram. “I hope you like trucks.”
Battista lifted his head off my shoulder, definitely interested. “He loves cars, and diggers, tractors, forklifts, trucks…” I grinned down at Battista. I would have never thought I’d ever spend so much time looking at images of construction vehicles and dinosaurs…
When I looked up, I caught Nevio staring at me.
“Do you want to ride it?” he asked after a moment.
Battista gave a small nod, so I put him down on the ground. He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the car. Once there, he mounted it and started racing through the living room with it. He bumped against pretty much every piece of furniture, but that only seemed to make him happier, judging by his boisterous laughter.
“That reminds me of you as a little boy,” Serafina said from the doorway.
I hadn’t noticed her before. She leaned against the doorframe with a soft smile as she watched Battista race around. She wore a long flowy dress that hid her bloated belly. She had started taking hormones so she could eventually carry Greta’s babies for her.
“You never had this angelic smile on your face when I barreled into furniture.” Nevio scoffed.
“It’s different,” she said with a shrug, and her eyes caught mine. I could tell that she felt as emotional as I did. Serafina and Remo had stepped up as family for Battista from the moment they’d found out about him. They’d supported me without hesitation. Remo appeared behind his wife and also watched the scene unfolding in the living room. I wondered if they expected me to leave so the four of them could share a moment. I wasn’t part of the Falcone clan, but I couldn’t leave Battista.
He took a turn around the sofa too sharply and toppled over with the ride-on car so his forehead bumped against a leg of the side table. He immediately burst into tears, his eyes seeking mine. “Mom! Mom!”
I rushed over to him and knelt beside him. I picked him up and blew on the already forming bruise. It wasn’t too bad, more of a shock than anything else, but I kept blowing until his cries eased and he only sniffed, already giving the ride-on car a side-eye. “Ready to try again?” I asked with a laugh.
He nodded enthusiastically, so I helped him right the ride-on car and settle on it. Nevio came a bit closer and cheered Battista on, who visibly relaxed over time.
“I’ll prepare snacks for Battista,” Serafina said with a smile at me. Did she want me to join her so Nevio could be alone with Battista?
I nodded. “I’ll help you.”
Remo moved toward Nevio to watch Battista as I headed for Serafina despite my reluctance. It was stupid of me to be this attached. Remo and Serafina, and also Kiara, Nino, Gemma, and Savio had watched Battista without me before. Even Massimo and Alessio had on occasion kept an eye on Battista for a short time.
“Mom!” Battista called.
I turned. He’d stopped racing and watched me leave with big eyes.
“No go!”
I raised my arms in surrender, relief surging through me. “I’ll stay.”
“I’ll help Fina,” Remo said and walked out with her. I focused on Battista, not Nevio, still unsure what I felt about his return. I was glad for the constant visits of other Falcones, especially when Massimo and Alessio showed up and settled on the sofa to play blocks with Battista. It prevented Nevio and me from having another private conversation.
Battista didn’t leave my side while he and I spend a few hours with Nevio. Serafina and Remo came in twice more to check on us, obviously curious how things were going, and Kiara brought us cookies after Battista had finished his fruit and vegetable platter.
I wondered if Nevio being back meant his family would insist on Battista moving into the Falcone mansion. I couldn’t imagine being separated from him, but what could I really do if they decided that was what should happen.
What my daughter Greta so desperately wanted—a child—had been thrown into Nevio’s lap, but he hadn’t been willing and able to accept the responsibility that came with it.
Seeing him trying to form a bond with his son, who didn’t even remember him anymore, tore at my heart. I still wasn’t sure he was ready for the task, that he was 100 percent willing to do what needed to be done to be a father. Sacrifice and thoughtfulness came with the task.
I still wanted to protect Nevio. He was my son, and I would always feel a deep sense of motherly protectiveness for him. But I felt even more protective of Battista because he needed my protection more than his father did, because he was helpless and in need of love. I worried that Nevio felt that I wasn’t on his side, which wasn’t true, because deep down, I knew that one day he’d realize protecting his son was also protecting him from a world of guilt and regret.
It was an hour past Battista’s bedtime when I went over to the Scuderi mansion. I’d seen worry and fear in Aurora’s eyes tonight. Through the patio door, I could see Leona sitting in a silk dressing gown at the dining room table, bowed over paperwork. I knocked at the French window, and she looked up disoriented. When she spotted me, she got up with a worried expression and opened the door for me. “Hey Fina, what’s up?”
“I’d like to have a word with Aurora, if she’s awake?”
Leona regarded me with growing concern and the protectiveness I knew too well. “Battista took a long time to fall asleep tonight. She’s on the treadmill now. Today was a lot to take in for Battista and for Aurora. She’s been giving everything for this boy since day one.”
