Page 54 of Duke for the Summer

“Ti amo, Nate.”

“Ti amo,Jacopo.Ti amo, uh,molto.”

Jacopo chuckled. “Close enough. I–I really do have to go. I’ll see you in a few days. I wish it was sooner. But I can’t wait. Whatever happens–”

“I’ll be there,” Nate promised. They hung up, and he sat there holding his phone to his chest as sunset spilled across the city, lighting up the cathedral spires and bridges and palazzos, turning the world into a fairy-tale treasure of rose gold.

*

It turned out that it was hard to quit smoking in the same week that you met your estranged daughter, came out to your family, and made it official with your boyfriend, so despite his best efforts, Jacopo found himself buying a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at the first tabaccheria he found in Palermo. He sat and smoked for some time as he waited for the ferry, his fingers tingling. He knew he should be nervous, but he’d been through so many emotions in the last twenty-four hours that there was a fog over it all, and all he could feel was a dim sense of wonderment.

It was a beautiful day, the blue sky scalloped with clouds, the sun making the pavement hot. It was strange, to feel the heat after his time in Dublin, and even stranger to realize howlittle time had passed since he’d left, and that it was still the tail end of summer here. Jacopo could hardly believe that he was the same person who’d been here a week ago, eyes parched from crying and pacing all night, hands shaking as he booked the first available flight to London.

He guessed he wasn’t that person, in a way. He had a daughter now, who he had met—who he was going to learn Irish with, and write to, and hopefully bring to the island. He had Nate. Whatever happened, he had Nate, waiting for him at the end of whatever trial by fire this might be. And in some way, he even had himself. He had back the Jacopo who had dreamed and had been passionate and had taken risks.

That part was a little harder to believe, but he tried to convince himself of it as he watched the waves part before the bow of the ferry, Carmosino rising out of the sea in the distance.

There wasn’t time to say anything once he got to the house where Mirabella lived with Antonio and his parents. He had a second to register the blue ribbon on the door, and then he was besieged by the women in his family, hugging him, kissing his cheeks, holding him at arm’s length to scold him. Good Lord, his family was soloud, had always been so loud that he could barely think, and he was shocked that they didn’t wake up the baby. Already, he felt like he wanted to shrivel up and disappear. Mamma was there, and his sisters, and Nonna and Zia Grazia, and Jacopo realized with a sinking sensation in his stomach that he hadn’t even considered telling Nonna. He was terrified of her. At least Papà wasn’t there.

“Jacopo, where were you?” his mother asked. “You just disappeared! We missed you at the hospital.”

“Dublin,” he said, heart pounding. All the eerie calm he’d felt on the ferry had evaporated, and now his palms were starting to sweat.

“Dublin? What in God’s name is in Dublin?”

“Mamma, I–”

But she had turned away, throwing her hands up, and was talking to Antonio’s mother. “Dublin, I ask you. My crazy son jets off to Ireland for his birthday and doesn’t tell anybody, misses the birth of his nephew…”

Jacopo pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to crawl inside himself and hide. He wanted a cigarette, and he’d already smoked most of the pack.

“But seriously, what’s in Dublin?” Gracie asked, touching his arm. Her cheeks were pink, and she was holding a glass of wine, though it was mid-morning.

“I just—I had to do something there. See an old friend.”

“Huh.” Gracie gave him an assessing look. “Well, you picked a good time to leave, missing all the excitement. Not that you’d need to worry, anyway, you’re not the one getting all the questions about–” She shot a look at Nonna, who had glanced over at them. “Never mind. Do you want to see the baby? He’s upstairs, resting, with Mirabella.”

“Babies are such weird little creatures,” she continued under her voice, as she led him up the stairs. Gracie had definitely had a few, and Jacopo wondered if the family was getting to her too. She’d always seemed so above it all. “I mean, they really don’t do much at this point. And the whole process, and thenursing–ugh. I’m not even sure I want one.” She looked at Jacopo. “Do you ever think you’ll have any?”

He felt his face turn red, and he tried to keep his voice level as he said, “I think–there are good things about having children.”

“Children, sure. But babies?” Gracie made a face. “Shh, though. Don’t say anything to Mirabella. She’s still on a lot of pain medication and I don’t want to upset her.”

“Hi, Jacopo.” Mirabella looked up when they came into the room, her eyes bleary. “He wasn’t born on your birthday,after all.” She smiled, a wobbly, exhausted smile. Antonio was in a chair at her bedside, apparently napping, and Alessia was there too, knitting in the corner. She gave him a little nod.

It was all Jacopo could do to nod back. His chest felt like someone was squeezing it, and his eyes were drawn to the bundle in Mirabella’s arms, the dark little head with its tuft of fine hair, the tiny hand splayed on her chest. A cascade of emotions went through him: pride, and fear, and a sense of intrusiveness, and memories flashed through his head, snapshots of Mirabella as a child. He remembered holding her hands when she was learning to walk, helping her with her ABC’s. The open, guileless adoration in her face when she’d looked up at him as a toddler. Jacopo swallowed, tears coming to his eyes.

“Oh, no.” Gracie elbowed him. “Don’t you cry, too.”

He cleared his throat. “How–” what did you say to someone who had just had a baby? What did you say to your littlest sister, who you’d been keeping secrets from? He settled on, “How do you feel?”

Mirabella giggled sheepishly. Her pupils were enormous, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was in a messy updo, strands escaping at random angles. She looked incredibly young. “I’m so tired. And no one has let me shower yet and I’m wearing a diaper and I think I might be a little bit–high? But I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

“Of course I came back. I’m so sorry I missed it.”

“Don’t be. They only let Mamma and Antonio in the room anyway, and I was screaming the whole time. And this is the first time he’s really resting. Do you want to see him?”

Jacopo moved closer, bending down to look at the baby. Its little brow was furrowed in sleep, giving it a stubborn expression, and its skin was pink and new, nearly transparent.He watched as it blew a spit bubble in its sleep, oblivious to the world and so, so fragile.Little guy, Jacopo thought, brushing a hand over the tuft of hair on his new nephew’s forehead.Do you know that you have a cousin in Dublin?

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