I walk as softly as possible and place a kiss on my wife’s forehead, then my daughters. Lucia stiffens, fearful I’ll waken our nap-loathing child, but she’s out. I never thought of myself as parent material, and I’m quite certain I’ll prove lacking in any number of ways in the years to come. I don’t deserve these two in my life, but my god do I love them with every fiber of my being.
To the side of the room is my father, legs kicked back on an ottoman, arms crossed over his abdomen, softly snoring. I haven’t allowed him to visit us in London as I don’t wish to expose my connection to the Wagners of Switzerland, but this estate was rented by an untraceable entity and we’re safe here. He’s proven to be a doting grandfather, even if he probably should be facing trial along with the other Lumina executives. However, there was no evidence connecting him and only hearsay of knowledge of the incident. The prosecutors determined he resigned so soon after the plan hatched, that his defense could easily imply his disapproval is why he retired. In his defense, I do believe he had no interest in the scheme. But he didn’t disapprove enough to stop it, and remained willfully blind over the years. He’s not a perfect human being, but he’s a perfect grandpa, and I love him, so we keep him around when possible.
For Lucia’s part, she loves having family around. We travel to Portugal about every other month to visit her family.
Shortly after we moved to London, I hired Arrow to explore options for releasing her father and brother. Illegal and legal means would have been on the table. Unfortunately, her father and brother contracted dengue fever and died in prison. It was through Arrow’s investigations we learned what happened to them, and Lucia has become close to several of the members of the Arrow team. We’re planning a trip to the United States to visit all of our friends, and I’m quite eager to play tour guide. The open question is whether we’ll bring with our little one with us. Named Aurea after Lucia’s mother, she’s a boisterous handful. I’d like to leave her with my father and a hired nanny, however, I suspect I might be overruled.
The cushion sinks with my weight. I place an arm around Lucia’s shoulder, and we both stare at the beauty lying across her mother. I’m sure every father believes his daughter is the most beautiful creature on earth, but I am undoubtedly correct in my estimation. There’s nothing quite in this world like when she calls me daddy.
Lucia whispers, “Is all good?”
As my wife, and an Interpol staff member, she knows some of what I do. I believe it was a significant relief to learn I’m not the freeloading louse she feared. But now, she harbors other fears.
“Yes.”
“Are you done for the day?”
While I like to tell her yes, I have information to transmit and destroy. “Just a little more. Then I’m yours.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I was wrong. Love. While hearing my little one call me daddy brings immeasurable happiness, there’s nothing in this world comparable to love. And somehow, by some miracle, I have it in spades. I see it in Lucia’s eyes, feel it in her touch, and in her words. And this is my life, every day.