Page 77 of Redemption
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation. “The sooner this is done, the sooner we’ll be back.”
“Exactly,” Marco says. “Mother and Father are waiting downstairs to say goodbye.”
Mother and Father. The words still shock me when I think about them in reference to myself. I have parents. I don’t know how long it will take for that fact to feel normal, but it doesn’t matter. I’m simply grateful for it—for more reasons than I could possibly list.
“Let’s go.”
Beneath the vaulted ceilings of the expansive foyer, my mother and father wait, blocking the door, as if to prevent me from leaving without going through them.
It’s a new experience, having protective and loving parents, and one that I cherish.
“My son,” my mother says, holding out her hands to grasp mine.
“I love you,” I tell her before she can continue. “I need you to know that.”
Her expression softens, and her eyes fill with tears. “I know you do. You are a good boy. A good man. I am proud to be your mother. I am so grateful you gave me this week. It has been the most wonderful gift of a lifetime.”
I lean in to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m the lucky one. I can’t possibly thank you enough for all that you are and all that you’ve done for us, but still, thank you. Thank you for loving my wife and daughter and keeping them safe. Thank you for showing me what it’s like to have a mother. You’re a dream come true.”
She releases my hands, and her thin arms wrap around my shoulders. I lean down, and her grip tightens, like she never wants to let me go. Her entire body shakes with the tears that I know must be pouring down her face, but I don’t pull away. For long moments, she just holds on like she might never see me again, and I know that’s a distinct possibility.
Come what may, I will always be grateful for this week.
The unwanted little boy I used to be is no more. I’m a man with a family who loves me and is praying for me to return safely. My life and my future have been irrevocably altered by this woman and her love.
“Thank you for coming, and thank you, God, for answering my prayers,” she says as she releases me.
My father moves closer to her, wrapping his arm around her side as I wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs.
“I’ll be back soon,” I tell her, hoping that I’m speaking the truth.
“Yes, you will be,” my father replies, slapping a hand on my shoulder and yanking me in for a hug. “You will be back, my son. We have much to learn about one another and many more happy memories to share.”
As his other arm wraps around me, I hug him back—hard.
“You are strong,” he whispers in my ear. “You are a Giordano through and through. Your brother will keep you safe. You shall both be victorious in all that you do, and you will both come home to us. We will be waiting.”
I swallow the giant lump in my throat and barely manage to keep my own tears in check. Never before have I felt this much emotion roiling through me.
“Yes, Father,” is all I can manage to get out.
He pulls back and presses a kiss on each of my cheeks. He looks from me to Marco.
“My sons. My beautiful boys, who have become their own men. You both go, and you both return. Understand?”
“Yes, Father,” Marco repeats. “You have my word.”
Our father’s expression is as serious as I’ve seen it all week as he nods. “Good. Now, go. The boat is waiting. The jet is ready. The Giordano family will be together again soon.”
After a final round of hugs, Marco and I slip out the front door, and I follow him through the fairyland of terraced gardens down to the waiting boat.
We don’t speak until he tosses off the lines.
“Are you ready?”
“Almost.”
He cocks his head to one side as the orange and pink of a brilliant sunrise blazes across the sky and reflects off the calm surface of the lake, like it was painted by the hand of a master—like it was painted by our mother. “What remains to be done?”
