Page 95 of Matteo
I shake my head. It sure as hell isn’t.
Amy sighs and hands the phone to me. “Since you and Matteo are in agreement, I’m going to let you two plan the party.”
Taking Layla from me, she kisses me on the cheek. “It’s her first birthday party, not her last.”
I send my fist into her hair and bring her mouth to mine. “She will never look at pictures of her birthdays or special events and find them lacking compared to those of her cousins and other brothers and sisters.”
“You’re the best damn daddy ever.” She says into my mouth.
I go into my office to get some of the information Mom needs and to write down shit I won’t remember later.
As we move around the kitchen preparing dinner, I tell Amy about the plans for Layla’s birthday. “There is going to be a small petting zoo and a pony. Elena and Ava loved it at the last birthday party. Mom thinks cupcakes are better than cake. Although Layla will have her own personal smash cake.”
“A petting zoo?” Amy’s voice goes up an octave.
“I believed loving my kids the same would be all they needed. Then the twins came over and asked if their dad would love them the same as his other kids if they didn’t do what they thought he wanted them to. It was a crazy question to me. With everything I’ve seen from Rafe and Carrie, I didn’t think for a second that the twins would question how much they were loved.” I shake my head, remembering how much it hurt Rafe when I talked to him about it.
“It brought home to me that no matter how much I believed I would show Layla that I love her as much as I would our other children—she might feel or think differently deep down. I don’t want there to ever be a doubt in her mind.”
A hand goes up to her forehead. “I thought you and your brothers believed not spoiling them was important.”
“It’s not about spoiling them?—”
“It is, though. She doesn’t need to have a petting zoo or pony to ride on.”
“This is where the whole money thing feels slippery. No, we don’t want them spoiled. At the same time, by not giving them things other kids have, it feels like they are being deprived. A part of me would rather spoil Layla than have her worry that I don’t love her the same as her other brothers and sisters.” I admit.
Her sigh is heavy. “I remember growing up hearing that all you need is love. My mother would laugh bitterly as she said it. In my childish mind, I used to think it meant she didn’t love me enough to want to be the mom I wanted her to be. If she loved me, then she wouldn’t need the hit of cocaine more than she needed me. It was my own fault that I wasn’t worth her love.”
Fuck, how can she say it so casually? I hug her tight, the pain more than I can endure thinking of her so young, wanting her mother’s love.
“Now, I recognize it for the only prayer she knew how to make. If you love something or someone as much as you do, why can’t it be enough? Why is love only a fraction of what you really need? And why do they lie that it is? Why is the lie told when the honesty, as painful as it is, would hurt less than the lie?” Her words are a mere whisper as if she doesn’t know if she wants the answer.
Holding her tight, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Because we want it to be enough. Love is magic. There is no denying that. Feeling loved, loving someone—it’s all magic. Love changes you, how you see the world, how it feels to be in it. Except there’s only so much love can do, and we have to do the rest.”
Matteo
Our discussion of love being enough leads me to my grandfather’s home the next day. My grandfather’s eyes go wide at the sight of me. He steps back to allow me into his home. I haven’t been inside in more than twenty years. I’m looking around to find it hasn’t changed much.
“Matteo,mijo. Is everything all right?” He gestures to the couch in his living room.
I shake my head. “I need to know, what is your issue with Amy?”
His hand goes over his mouth before running over his cheek. I’ve seen him do that when he needed time.
“From the moment I met Amy, I knew she was the one. I don’t want to think of my life without her. If it’s between you or her—I pick her.”
His elbows go down on his knees. His eyes are on his hands clasped together. “It isn’t about her, it’s you.”
I’m too stunned to speak.
Meeting my gaze head-on. “Your work was your entire world. It was something that would leave marks on anyone. You left it less than six months before you met her. There was a massive void in your life. My concern is that you’re attempting to fill the void with her. Had you fallen for her a year or two from the change, while I still would have reservations about you becoming involved with a married woman—there would be no concern. Will you regret this in another four or five years, and where will that leave her and her child? That is my issue.”
Since his words are much like Hillary’s in therapy. I tell him the same thing I told her. “I’m not going to pretend I understand love. It’s a fluid and boundless thing. When I left oncology, I can see now it was because it broke me and sent me into depression. Like anything else I didn’t want to accept, I ignored it. Believing foolishly, I simply had to work harder to get through it. While I considered a woman and family, it didn’t appeal enough for me to change my plan of filling my days so I couldn’t feel the depression. Amy took that plan and shattered it.”
His eyes drop from mine as his jaw hardens.
“I began seeing a therapist for Amy and Layla. They were the reason I came out of my depression. Having Layla look at me like I hung the moon did more than any pill could. Needing to be the man they deserved is why I went to therapy.”