Page 43 of Redemption
“This is why you must expect a spectacle,” he continues. “When I say that … I refer possibly even to pyrotechnics.”
“What?” Aurora shifts against my chest as I blurt out the word on a half laugh.
Marco and I still, as though both making sure we don’t wake the females sleeping on and beside me.
With his voice quieter, Marco continues, “Yes. As in fireworks. Those will wait until dark, most likely. But expect a red-carpet arrival. All the staff lined up to meet you on the terrace. And flowers. The flower arrangements will be massive. All cut from the gardens. It takes over twenty gardeners to tend to them all in a beautiful and orderly fashion.”
The words he’s speaking are coming at me, but my brain feels slow in processing them.
Fireworks?
Red carpet?
Terrace?
Flowers?
Twenty gardeners?
For the first time, perhaps ever, I’m dumbfounded. I have no idea what to say or think. Can this even be real? It doesn’t seem possible, but there’s no hint of duplicity in his words. He’s completely sincere.
When I don’t reply, Marco continues, “I know it sounds … excessive, and likely, it will be. This is why I’m telling you now—to prepare you for what is coming.” He pauses with another bemused smile. “I’m sure you’re more accustomed to being welcomed by bullets than red carpets, but this is the life that is waiting for you. It is nothing like the life you have left behind. You are like a prince who is being returned to his kingdom. Our mother will spare no expense, and no detail will be overlooked. And the food … I can only imagine what kind of banquet she’ll have prepared for you.”
“With guests?” The question comes out rougher, simply because my family’s safety is my first priority and I can’t expose them to people I don’t know—at least not beyond those of my blood. Not yet anyway. I need the lay of the land first.
“No, no,” Marco replies with a shake of his head. “Absolutely not. This is family only. This is simply our mother welcoming you home, along with the daughter she’s always wanted and a grandchild she’s dreamed of holding for more years than you know.”
I note the one person he hasn’t mentioned. “What about …” I swallow before I speak more words that are foreign to my tongue. “Our father?”
Some of the lightness and joy dies out of Marco’s dark, sparkling gaze. “No. Father will not be present. As we told you, he doesn’t know you are alive.”
My fingers itch to grip the arm of my seat, but I can’t without disturbing Aurora. Instead, I hug her gently.
“He still doesn’t know I’m alive? Why haven’t you told him yet? Why hasn’t she?”
Another shake of Marco’s head gives me at least one answer before he speaks. “No. I suppose I should explain why.” He releases a long breath before shifting in his chair and crossing an ankle over one knee. “Our mother and father are estranged. They’ve been estranged since Mother was recovered from the kidnappers … and you were not.”
A few beats of silence pass before he continues, “From what I have been told and have experienced my whole life, losing you destroyed our family, our parents’ happiness, and their marriage. They have been estranged my entire life. I’ve never seen them in the same place together. Ever.”
“Never?”
He shakes his head again. “No. Mother and Father do not see each other. They are never in each other’s presence. They live completely separate lives, although they are still technically married. Neither one believes in divorce or dividing the family’s assets.”
The knowledge blows me away. Losing me destroyed them. Their marriage. Their happiness. My brother grew up with parents who wouldn’t be in each other’s presence because they had lost me.
How is this even possible?
I don’t realize I spoke my last question aloud until Marco answers it. “They are both very stubborn people. Perhaps that’s where you get the determination to live your life, brother. Our parents are quite impressive in their stubbornness.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Marco’s smile returns, but it’s more sheepish than before. “It is a unique family—I will grant you that. But there is much love. Mother is overjoyed, awaiting your return, and when Father is told of your existence, he will …” Marco purses his lips for a beat before continuing, “He will be stunned and thank God. And he will be elated at the existence of your daughter. He will finally have an heir to his empire, which is something that has weighed on him heavily for many, many years. Now, he will be able to rest, knowing that the Giordano family line will continue after he is gone and his life’s work and dedication to his heritage was not for nothing.”
I assess my brother, trying to keep up with everything he’s saying. One question stands out in my mind. “Why didn’t you have a child to give him the heir he needed? Or are you … not so inclined?”
Another long sigh leaves Marco. “I would have if I could have, but I am unable to have children. There was a fever that swept the country estate where I was living with Father the summer I turned sixteen. We both took ill, along with dozens of others. Some didn’t survive, but those who did all shared one fate in common—we were left sterile. No longer able to have children.” A blazing warmth comes from him as he looks at me with Aurora nestled in my arms. “Undoubtedly, you would have faced the same fate, but God spared you. You can still create life. Perhaps that is why you were taken from us. So you would still be able to hold your perfect daughter in your arms.”
Fate isn’t something I spend much time thinking about, but with Marco’s revelation, I’m nearly leveled by what might have been.
