“I’m just saying?—”
“Well, don’t, okay? We’re in this together. There’s always a future.”
“For me and you, always,” I say very softly, staring up ahead at Luca’s broad shoulders as he and Raf reach the office door. “But I’m not sure about him.”
“Give it a try anyway. Who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy the intercourse.”
I groan but don’t have time to say anything. Luca looks back at us, lips pulled into a curious frown. Elisa gives him a cute little wave, waggling her fingers, and I feel my cheeks burning.
“You should wait out here,” Raf says to Elisa.
“Fio’s just going to tell me everything you say.” She slips her hand away from me. I wish she’d stay.
“I know that, but let’s all pretend anyway, okay?” He rubs his forehead as my sister walks away with a flippant wave.
Inside the office, Papa’s sitting on his little couch with a book in his lap. Despite the warm afternoon, he’s got a fire going. It’s hot, but not too uncomfortable. Papa’s in slacks and a sweater, looking smaller and thinner than he did just a few days earlier. I walk over and stoop down to kiss his cheek.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” he says. His voice is a papery whisper. His skin is clammy and cold. “I hope you weren’t too much trouble.”
“Never, Papa.”
He gives me a tight smile as he holds my hands in his. He glances at the ring, lips pressing together. “Notnever. You wouldn’t be you if it werenever. Just… maybe a little less.”
“Did you call us here to lecture me on my bad attitude?”
“I wish.” He looks sad as he pats my hand and releases me. “No, we have more important things to speak about.” He gestures at two waiting armchairs. I take the one on the right, which is softer and more comfortable, sticking Luca with the one that creaks when you move around too much. He frowns as it groans under his weight, and I try not to smile. Petty victories feel good sometimes.
“You’re looking well, Don Serrano,” Luca says, inclining his head respectfully.
“Please, call me Thomas. You’re my son-in-law now.” He glances over at where Raf’s standing near the desk, arms crossed over his chest. “I always thought my daughters would have big weddings. I never imagined a half-hour trip to the courthouse.”
“Life is strange sometimes,” Luca says.
“Yes, it very much is.” Papa struggles to sit up with a soft grunt. I frown and have to resist the urge to go help him. If we were alone, I’d be sitting by his side, but since Luca is here, this is a more formal occasion. Still, I hate seeing my father like this. “That’s why I wanted to speak with the two of you. I have mixed news to share. Since I don’t know how to say it any other way, I’ll just be blunt. My cancer is much worse than the doctors initially thought.”
I go very still. My fingers begin to tingle and I’m sitting forward, my back very straight. “What are you talking about? I thought?—”
“The scans were bad,bambina mia. I was waiting to tell you, and now’s the time.”
I shake my head. Tears spring to my eyes and I struggle against them. “That can’t be right. You’re taking the treatment. We have months still.” I look over at Raf, but he’s grim. “We still have months, don’t we?”
My brother doesn’t react. His eyes slip to the floor, and that tells me everything.
“The doctors think it’s more like two months at best.” Papa’s voice is resigned. It can’t be easy talking about his own death like this. “I suspect it’s less than that.”
“I’m very sorry, Don Serrano,” Luca murmurs, his expression neutral.
“Papa.” I get up and go to him. “Tell me that’s not right.”
“I’m so sorry,bambina mia. I really wish it were otherwise, but I’ll be leaving you soon.” He pats my leg soothingly. This is wrong, all wrong. How is he the one trying to make me feel better when he’s the one dying? But this is how it’s always been. Papa’s gentle and protective, and I’ve tried my hardest to be strong for him. But now, suddenly facing down the prospect of life without him much sooner than I’d been prepared for, I feel my armor slipping away.
He’s a good father. He always was. There were mistakes—terrible, awful mistakes—and our family’s business makes everything difficult and everyone hard. But Papa still loved us and doted on us throughout the years. Maybe out of guilt forwhat happened when we were younger, but still. Most men in his position would never let their eldest daughters rebuild classic cars. Papa always encouraged me, even when my hobbies weren’t exactly what he would’ve liked.
I love him fiercely. And now I’m going to lose him.
“There has to be something we can do. I’ll call your doctor. Let me speak with him, maybe?—”
“There’s nothing, Fiorella, you know that. There’s nothing. It’s going to be okay.”
