Page 42 of Wicked Union
"Aria, sit," he says calmly. Though his voice is muffled by the mask and his hot breath steams the clear plastic, I understand him. "I've come to visit my son who nearly died. And I understand all the facts of what happened. Nigel and Hector have been to see me. I know everything." Dad coughs and takes the mask off to cover his mouth with a handkerchief. Sal hovers behind him like a nursemaid. We all know it won't be long now. Days, maybe.
"Are you okay?" Aria asks, and I wonder that myself, if today will be the last breath, or tomorrow.
"I'm fine," Dad grunts as his coughing fit passes, and he covers his mouth again. His breathing is raspy and choked by mucus in his airway. "I came to tell you I will handle what must be donewith Carlos. I've had a visit from a certain young man whose name I will not mention, but he said to tell Aria that he is fond of his kitten and to thank her yet again."
Aria's cheeks flush and she looks away nervously. I make a mental note to ask her what that means later and then turn to my father. "So, what will be done with him?" I don't want my brother to die, but the suffering he's caused is too great to look past.
"I'll handle it, Tito. You will lead this family, and that's my final word. Now, do exactly as the doctors say because we need you at home. There's too much to do, and I won't be around much longer." Hearing my father speak of his own imminent death is disheartening, but it's a truth we can't turn away from.
"I'll make sure he listens," Aria says with a smile, and Dad nods.
Together, these two are going to make my life hell for a few days. I just wish I knew what Dad intended for Carlos. He won't kill his own son unless Carlos refuses to repent. Even still, it will be a cold day in hell before Carlos is trusted again.
Dad moves closer and sets the brake for his wheelchair, and I listen as he begins to unravel his plans for our family, the Peraltas, and dealing with the Russians. The fact that he doesn't ask Aria to leave is encouraging. Even he sees her as my partner now, and that's all a man could hope for from his father in these, his last days. I think everything is going to work out fine now. As long as Carlos is handled, I will recover and lead, with my wife by my side.
31
ARIA
The 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 threemen 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'sthe 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 thatwon'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?"
