Page 51 of Redemption
Could it really be this easy? It seems incredible that everything has gone so smoothly and easily when so much of my life has been punctuated by unexpected difficulties and challenges. But maybe … maybe that can also change?
An overwhelming sense of fate weaves through me and around me, and I feel—more so than ever before in my life—that I am exactly where I am meant to be and doing exactly what I am meant to be doing.
Marco speaks to the tower in what sounds like German, and within moments, we’re taxiing to the runway and turning to face the long strip of pavement ahead of us.
“Prepare for takeoff,” he says before he throttles the engine and the plane rolls forward.
I hope he knows what he’s doing, I think as we hurtle down the runway and then gracefully lift into the air.
Marco continues speaking to the tower for a few moments and then switches over to English. “Everyone good? We are headed back into Italy.”
“You speak German too?” I ask him.
“When you grow up on the border of Switzerland, it is an easy language to pick up. I speak Spanish, French, and Portuguese as well. My Russian is not very good though.”
“Wow,” Keira whispers into the headset. “And here, I just speak a bit of Gaelic and French. Clearly, Rory is going to need to spend some time with her uncle and become multilingual.”
In that instant, a vision of my daughter growing up like a princess, speaking more languages than her mother and me combined, springs into my mind. “An excellent idea,” I add to Keira’s comment.
“It would be my pleasure,” Marco replies before pointing at the shimmering lake. “We are not far from Maggiore. See it ahead of us?”
Keira and I both peer out the windows, taking in the beautiful blue water and all the buildings with red tiled roofs surrounding the end we’re approaching.
“It is not a long flight. We shall be there before you know it. Ahh! You can see the balloon again just there.” Marco gestures out the side window, and the hot-air balloon comes into view once more.
I can’t believe this is happening. But it is. Warmth and heat fill my chest, and I cling to Aurora like she will keep my tears from escaping.
My daughter reaches up to tug my hair, as if to say, It’s real, Daddy; believe it.
Marco’s voice fills our ears again as he points out landmarks, but I’m too lost for words to reply. Thankfully, he and Keira converse easily, and neither realizes how overwhelmed I am by the moment.
Who would expect the infamous Lachlan Mount to be so close to the breaking point? No one. Never. That’s not something anyone would expect from me, especially not now.
But I’m quickly learning something new about myself: bullets and blood don’t faze me, but emotional reunions with my family—that is almost more than I can handle.
Get it together, Mount.
Even the name I call myself sounds surreal in my mind. Everything about this moment feels surreal. And through the fog dulling my hearing, when Marco says that we’re approaching the islands, I can barely take it all in.
I hear Keira gasp as she sees the islands in the middle of the wide expanse of the lake, but I feel like I’m caught in a dream.
Is this even real? Am I in a coma? Can this really be happening? It almost seems easier to think I’m making all of this up, like it’s some fantasy conjured by my mind instead of moments unfolding in my reality.
“Oh my God,” I whisper as Marco circles the islands, allowing us to see their beauty from the air.
Trees. Gardens. Beautiful architecture.
How can this be real? How can this be my family? I was left in filth as a baby in front of a church, unwanted and unimportant. The system tried to eat me alive, but I fought it and ran and grew even stronger. I built my own world out of blood, sweat, daring, and necessity. How can this fairy tale be happening in my life? How can this be possible?
Everything I’ve done and been pushes at my mind, but as the pontoon touches down on the water, it all evaporates.
My past no longer matters.
This moment—right here, right now—is all that matters.
Everything that has come before has led me to this moment, and I’m going to grab on to it with both hands. No one is taking this happiness from me. No one.
As Marco guides the seaplane across the water toward a stone boathouse and dock connected to a massive seawall, I spot giant arrangements of greenery and flowers dotting the red carpet lying across the platform that leads up to elegant stone steps. And that’s where I see her. Hands clasped together over her chest, silver hair set off with a beautiful purple dress. She looks like a queen, waiting to welcome her long-awaited son home.
