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“I can. You’re pretty amazing, Fran.”
I’m smiling so widely as I enter the dining room. Viktor and Gemm are already there, with Viktor munching on a dinner roll. Mia is on her phone as usual, and the twins are teasing each other over who can eat more food in one go. Cecilia looks distraught as she stares at her plate. Not even her guard, Theo, can cheer her up as he stands near the back wall. She used to have the biggest crush on him. but the news about Antonio leaving hit her hard.
She looks up when I enter, her blonde hair making her practically glow in the warm candlelight. “Do you know where he is?” she asks, rushing over to me. “Did Antonio tell you where he was going? Mom didn’t say anything, and he didn’t tell me goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, Cecilia. He didn’t. He just said it wasn’t safe for him to come back, not with Franco wanting him dead. I don’t know where he is, just that he’s alive and figuring out how to take over.” Speaking of Franco, I notice he’s absent from this family dinner.
Tears start to spill from Cecilia’s eyes. “I miss him. He’s my best friend.”
“I know,” I say, squeezing her on the arm. “But you still have the rest of us, and Antonio will be fine. He survived this ordeal. He can make it through.”
“Only because you helped save him. I didn’t thank you before.” She wraps her arms around me. I can’t remember the last time Cecilia and I hugged. I’m not sure we ever have.
“Antonio will be ok,” I say so only she can hear me. “He’ll be ok.”
She sniffles as she pulls back. “I have to hope so. He needs to take over. Franco can’t just get away with this.”
“Where is Franco?”
“I told him,” Mom says, “he wasn’t allowed at this family dinner. I put my foot down. He didn’t want to listen, but Marco and Viktor backed me up, and I think he got scared.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “Well, Emilia also told him to leave, so she might have scared him the most.” That makes everyone laugh around the table. Lucia giggles, but I doubt she even knows why everyone is laughing. She just doesn’t want to miss out on the fun. Luca, on the other hand, is content to make funny faces at his sister until she swats at him.
Those two are in for an interesting life if they ever find out the truth about who their dad is. But I don’t care about that. Lucia and Luca are my siblings, and I love them, no matter that Franco is their father.
Leo and I take our seats at the table next to Mia and Cecilia. Across from us sit the other couples, Emilia and Marco and Gemma and Viktor. Mom sits at the head of the table, and next to her are the twins. It’s nice to have a family dinner and be invited. It’s nice to not be afraid to attend. I don’t have to be afraid of my family ever again now that I can speak up for myself. Mom and I have a lot to work on when it comes to our relationship, but I can tell she’s putting in more effort when it comes to me, even though I live across the country. She’s been sending me texts almost every day since the night of Essie’s birth.
“I want to say a prayer for Antonio,” Cecilia says, grabbing Leo’s and Mia’s hands. I take Leo’s hand in mine and share a small smile with him. “Let him be safe. Let him stay strong. Let him take over in father’s footsteps. Amen.”
“And let him kick Franco’s butt,” Gemma mutters, making us laugh again.
Mom raises her glass. “Hear, hear.”
We all toast to the safety and future of Antonio. Even though I’m worried about my brother, I focus on the here and now. I’m with my family, enjoying a meal with them for once, and the man I love is at my side.
I’m actually happy.
It’s an incredible feeling.
* * *
“So, this is the painting, huh?”Leo looks up at “Study of a Young Woman” by Johannes Vermeer.
“That’s the painting.” I rest my head against his shoulder, our hands linked together. It’s still cold outside, but inside my favorite museum in the world, all I feel is warmth.
Leo studies it for a minute before nodding. “I see why you like it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. She’s you, Fran.”
I step out of the way as an elderly couple walk past me. “We don’t look anything alike.”
“You’re right. You don’t. But it’s not about looks. It’s in her eyes. She has a sense of wonder in them. A sense of hope. She’s shy, yes, but she’s not afraid to look you in the eye. That’s exactly you.”
I look back at the painting with Leo’s perspective. “You know … I think you’re right.”
That same elderly couple passes us by again, and the woman stops, looking at me and Leo. “Sorry to bother you, but I just had to say what a cute couple you make. Both so beautiful. If only I were a few years younger.”
“Maureen,” the man says, sighing. “Sorry about her,” he says to us.
