I dial Bruno’s number.
“Hello, Miss Ferrara,” he answers.
“Can you check the fire stairs please?”
“Why, what’s wrong?”
“The door on my level is open.”
“I’ll be right up.”
It’s just on six when I hear the door and I smile broadly. He’s home.
Giuliano comes into view, he’s wearing a charcoal suit and crisp white shirt. His dark hair is messed to perfection and he gives me a slow sexy smile before taking me into his arms. “Hey you,” he whispers, his voice is soft and cajoling, the one he saves just for me.
We kiss, slow and tender, and he brushes the hair back from my face as he stares down at me. “How was my girl’s day?”
“Long without you.”
He sits down onto the dining chair and pulls me onto his lap and holds me tight.
We hug, as if we haven’t seen each other in years.
The warmth from each other slowly defrosting the cold.
How is it possible to miss someone so much when they were only gone for eight hours?
“What happened with the fire stairs?” he asks.
“I don’t know, I heard a bang.”
He frowns as he listens. “What kind of bang?”
“It sounded like a door or….” I shrug. “When I checked the cameras, the room was empty so I went out there.”
“Rule number one, Francesca,” he says sternly. “Never unlock a fucking door, not for anyone other than me.”
“But the cameras….”
“Can be manipulated.”
“Anyway, it was a false alarm. The serviceman was changing the lightbulbs in the staircase, they must have left it open.”
His eyes hold mine as he runs his hand up my thigh. “The staircase is now under surveillance.”
I nod, relieved. “Why do I feel like everything is coming to a head?” I ask.
“Because it is.” He kisses me softly. “The paternity tests will be back, we can soon be publicly together and….”
“And what?”
“And other things…are being taken care of.”
“Lombardi?” I ask.
“You don’t need to worry about Lombardi.”
“He’s dying anyway, Giuliano. Let him go naturally without starting the war,” I whisper. “Don’t bring any danger to us that isn’t necessary.”
He gives me a stifled smile as he kisses my nose. “You do not need to worry about my work, sweetheart.”
I stare at him, so lost in his light, so, so in love with this beautiful man.
“If something happened to you.”
“It won’t.”
“Promise me that you won’t die.”
“If you promise to marry me.”
“I already did that.”
He gives me his best cheeky smile. “That’s right, you did.” He stands, holding me in his arms like a bride, and begins to walk to our bedroom. “It’s shower time.”
“I already showered.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re about to get dirty again.”
I listen to the grand organ play its hymns and I stare into space.
The priest is delivering his sermon, and we, his faithful disciples, listen in awe.
I wasn’t joking when I said I want Giuliano to convert to Catholic.
Religion means something to me, it means a lot. To have our marriage accepted in the eyes of the Lord is important.
I look around at my surroundings, my mother, Lorenzo and my brothers are sitting in the church pews beside me, I’m sitting on the end near the aisle. The church is grand and eccentric, hundreds of years old. A place where Ferraras have always worshiped.
“Is this seat taken?” I hear a familiar voice.
I glance up and my face falls. Giuliano is standing in the aisle, navy suit, white shirt and a confident twinkle in his eyes.
My eyebrows rise by themselves in question and he gives me a sexy wink as he sits down beside me. The tests must have come back, and he’s here in a church…for me.
My mother gasps from her place beside me and my eyes well with tears.
He’s a Ferrara.
23
Francesca
The procession of cars pulls into my mother’s place and this may very well be the last time I have to ride in a different car to my love.
I’m in Lorenzo and Mother’s car, my brothers behind us and Giuliano behind them, she wanted us all to come back to her house after the church service to discuss the paternity test results. I don’t know what’s going on, but if Giuliano was in church that means he is a Ferrara. I have no idea what that means for me. Who am I? The answer has created a million questions. I know that for our life to stay the same, it was best for Giuliano to be the Ferrara…but I can’t help feeling a little…I don’t even know what I’m feeling.
Jaded.
“Did you get an email?” my mother asks Giuliano as we walk through the front door.
“Yes. You got one too.”
She nods. “Go into the garden for refreshments, everyone, I’ll get my computer and be right out.”
She disappears into the office while the rest of us are ushered out the back to the lush gardens and we all sit around the large table.
The mood is heavy, and Lorenzo is somber as we wait for her return.
She reappears and sits down with her laptop and opens it up and we all watch on in silence. As she reads, her eyes well with tears.
“What is it?” Andrea asks.
“Giuliano is a Ferrara,” she whispers, her eyes rise to mine and she smiles through tears. “Lorenzo is your biological father, Francesca.”
Lorenzo gasps as my eyes widen.
He takes the computer from her as if not believing it, he reads the email and tears begin to roll down his cheeks. “Thank you, my God,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
He stands in a rush and takes me into his arms, he openly weeps.
“I prayed for this day, my darling daughter. I prayed for this. Thank you, God.” He sobs into my neck. “Thank you.”
The drive home from my mother’s house is strange, yet surreal.
Giuliano is driving and, with my hand on his thigh, we are both silent, lost deep in our own thoughts.
“Have you heard from Antonio?” he asks me.
“No, why?”
“We can’t reach him.”
“Why, where is he?” I frown.
“He took a few days off to go home and hasn’t returned.”
“That’s strange.”
He shrugs. “He’ll be around. Maybe they got his return date wrong.”
“Probably.” We fall deep back into thought once more.
This afternoon, my mother is announcing to the world that Lorenzo is my biological father.
In doing that, Giuliano and I are finally free.
“I have a surprise for you,” Giuliano says as his eyes flick over to me.
“Haven’t we had enough surprises lately?”
“This is a good one.”
I smile over at him.