Page 82 of Pause

The letter I sounds like E in Italian. When Matteo says IS it sounds like EES. I love all the nuances of the Italian language. Even the accent spoken in broken English is exquisite.

Slade explains the details of his mother’s breast cancer, her treatments, her reaction, and her current remission.

“So, good now?” Matteo asks with a frown, our reflections visible in his dark sunglasses.

Slade’s chin dips. “Yes, she’s doing very well. Recovering slowly, but feeling better.”

“Good. You good son to her, yes?”

“Yes,” I answer for Slade, reaching for his hand under the table. “He takes excellent care of her. She wants for nothing.” It’s one of the things I love about him.

“Enough about me.” Slade wipes his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Tell me all about you. What do you do for a living? How did you meet Lucia?”

We listen as Matteo tells the story of his life. This is what Slade wanted. To know his father.

After he lost Laurie, Matteo completed his education, becoming a lawyer. He married Lucia but lost her in a boating accident when Mattie and Aria were teenagers.

“I’m sorry,” Slade says, his tone quiet.

Matteo suffered losing the woman he loved twice in his life. I feel for him. It’s his unique story with Lauren that fascinates me the most. First love. Lost love. Love letters. A son he never knew about. It’s all so tragic.

However, our trip is a success. Here we sit in a quaint restaurant we never would’ve discovered ourselves, talking with Slade’s father while boats glide by in the canal. I close my eyes and memorize the moment. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

An unseen barrier breaks between Slade and his father. Their conversation begins to flow with a natural back-and-forth rhythm. They’re developing a father and son relationship. I hide the fact that I’m still wiping rogue tears from my eyes. I know what this means to Slade. I can only imagine how he must be feeling. His story touches my soul in a way no other story has. Their heart-to-heart lasts a little over two hours. Two hours of precious conversation and bonding.

“Can I take a picture of you two?” I ask. We’ve only taken a few pictures. Not nearly enough. I know Slade will be happy to have pictures of himself and his father when we return home.

They lean in as they sit across from each other at the table. Automatically, they each rest their chin on one hand, a mirror image of each other. I snap the picture and marvel at how much they look alike. I quickly message the photo to Lauren. I know she’ll love it. She responds almost immediately with far too many heart emojis.

“Okay,” Matteo says at last. “Let’s seemycity. Much to show you, places I take my Laurie. You like?”

Slade hesitates. “Yes, I’d like that.”

This is like living his parents’ love affair by proxy. He’s choosing to see the love and nothing more. No judgment. I’m proud of him. It takes a strong man to love people as they are. I certainly don’t want anyone judging if I’m worthy of love based on my choices. What a horrible world that would be.

Once again, I proudly walk with my hands tucked into the arms of my two Italian men. I’m in amazing Venice, yet walking between these two men is my favorite thing of all. I feel so loved and protected.

The first place Matteo takes us is a shop that looks as though it belongs in the eighteenth century, fresh wood scent heavy in the air.

“Here they make rowing oars for the gondoliers. No two rowing oars are same. Each one made just how gondolier wants. Every gondolier like something different. Is personal, understand? My Laurie, she love this shop.”

Slade runs his hand over an oar. “I can see why.”

If that wasn’t fascinating enough, next Matteo takes us to a small but picturesque water fountain.

“This fountain was meeting place with my Laurie. I come many days. Wait for her. She no come.” Matteo hangs his head for a moment.

“My mom worried about that. She wondered if you waited at your meeting place for a few days or for a long time. It haunts her to think about it.”

“I wait many days. Don’t know how much. But many. Was very sad. But special place. Makes me think of my Laurie. Now I show our son, and I’m happy.” Matteo pats Slade’s back. “Come si dice? Ah, how you say, circle is full?”

“Full circle,” Slade confirms.

The three of us stand by the fountain as though we’re standing next to a monument. I suppose, to Matteo, it is a monument to his and Laurie’s love. We enjoy a moment of silence, lost in our thoughts.

“Okay, pour out water bottle. Water no good.” Matteo grabs my water bottle and pours it out. It’s hot out, I’m thirsty, and I’m confused by the sudden change of subject.

“But…” I say as he dumps Slade’s water bottle as well. Slade flashes me a funny face.

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