“Right now. Come in this other room and wash your hands. While you do that, I’ll have the nurse wheel him in here, where you can hold him and inspect him all you want. Later she’ll show you how to bathe and feed him.”
Giovanni’s heart started to pound hard. He’d played with the nieces and nephews from his two sisters’ marriages, but he’d rarely held a tiny baby. To think this newborn was his own son!
When Tatania had first learned she was pregnant, she’d threatened to have it aborted. No doubt she’d wanted to punish Giovanni because of their failed marriage that she’d blamed on him. But her father, Salvatore, had threatened to disown her if she went through with it. His will had prevailed, grazie a Dio.
After removing his suit jacket and tie, Giovanni washed his hands and dried them with the automatic blower. The moment was surreal for him as the nurse pushed the cart through the door and smiled up at him.
“You have a beautiful bambino, Signor Laurito. Here. Put this cloth over your shoulder and you can hold him. He’s asleep, but he’ll soon wake up for his bottle.”
He did as she said, but his eyes had fastened on the baby wrapped up in a crib blanket. His boy lay on his back. He had a beautiful face, almost angelic. Since Giovanni had black hair and Tatania was a brunette, the wisp of gold hair came as a surprise. His heart melted at the sight of him.
“Vitiello, mi figlio.” That was an old family name he’d decided to give him after he learned they were having a boy. He’d call him Vito for short.
Without hesitation Giovanni picked him up and put him against his shoulder. The warmth of his tiny body seeped through him. “To think your first experience in life happened inside an ambulance. That’s a story the whole family will talk about for the rest of your life.” He kissed his cheek and neck.
Giovanni might not have given birth, but his paternal instincts had taken over, and he was filled with a joy he hadn’t known in years. His marriage to Tatania had never taken. Since the divorce he’d felt relief, but was pretty much devoid of any other feelings. She’d gone through the greater part of her pregnancy without Giovanni’s help. To be united suddenly with his son thrilled him to the core of his being.
He couldn’t comprehend that Tatania didn’t want to coparent with him. According to the doctor, she hadn’t asked to see the baby. If he knew Violeta, she would work on her daughter, but Giovanni didn’t hold out hope. Every child needed a mother and father, but during their marriage, Tatania had shut down. It was as if every motherly instinct had been drained out of her. Psychiatric counseling hadn’t helped.
Eager to examine his son, he put him on the changing board and unwrapped him down to his shirt and diaper. Being uncovered had wakened him. His eyes opened. Giovanni couldn’t tell their color. Maybe a muddy slate blue.
He kissed him on either cheek. “I’m your papà. Welcome to my world.” He checked his legs and feet that were wiggling. Those tiny hands had fingers that curled around his finger. Before long he would pull him up slightly to discover how strong he was. Laughter came out of Giovanni.
In a minute the pediatrician walked in the room and smiled. “It looks like father and son are doing well. The nurse will bring you a bottle and teach you how to feed him.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
The rest of the night turned out to be pure delight as he fed and bathed Vito. By 11 o’clock Giovanni felt like an old hand, but he was exhausted. He arranged for his pilot to pick him up. He’d go home to sleep, then come back in the morning.
Once the baby was released, they’d fly home, where Stanzie and her husband, Paolo Bruno, were waiting for him. The attractive couple in their early forties had been managing the Bruno Advertising agency under their uncle Ernesto Bruno. Giovanni had become acquainted with the dynamic couple three years earlier through business. But months ago their uncle let them go because the business was failing.
Giovanni had stepped in to help them out and asked if they’d take care of his villa and garden for a temporary period. He believed in them and planned to set them up in their own advertising business a little later down the road that would benefit the three of them. Until that could be accomplished, he’d hired them to work for him, an arrangement that suited everyone. They’d been hoping to have children, but it hadn’t happened yet and they could hardly wait for the arrival of the baby.
He’d spent the past month turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery with everything the baby would need. But nothing had prepared him for the sheer wonder of being a father. This tiny infant was his heart’s blood. Already those protective feelings had taken root. He could tell his life had changed in ways he’d never dreamed of.
* * *
Two weeks had passed since the birth of the baby. Valentina looked down at her handsome son while he slept on his back. She was still trying to breast-feed, but the baby wasn’t getting enough milk so she supplemented with formula.
She’d also struggled trying to decide on the right name for him before he was born. But once she’d laid eyes on him, she felt Riccardo suited him best. She’d called him Ric from that moment on.
“Did you name him after our grandfather?” Carlo questioned while they were gathered round in the nursery. Everyone was crazy about the baby, who luckily slept soundly.
“Yes, but let me ask you a question. I want your opinion on something. Because Matteo was blond, and I am, too, I didn’t expect to have a baby with black hair. Dark hair does run in our family, but Ric’s hair is a stark black. I don’t know. Do you think Ric looks like our grandfather Riccardo?”
Carlo shook his head. “No. Not at all.” Other than the dark hair, Valentina didn’t see any similarities, either, but she’d had to ask. “This little guy has a distinct widow’s peak.”
“Papà noticed it immediately when he came to visit and thought it odd. Now I’m going to ask another question. Do you think he looks like me?”
Rini’s eyes narrowed on her. “No.”
“But he doesn’t look anything like Matteo. He was blond and blue-eyed. My baby’s eyes are dark already.”
“Now that you mention it, Melita thought it strange he doesn’t look like you.”
At Carlo’s comment a sick feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, and she turned away from the crib. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“He could be a throwback to an ancestor, but none of it matters. Don’t worry about it.” Carlo kissed her cheek. “I’ve got to go home. Melita is waiting for me to help put Angelica to bed. Talk to you later.” His footsteps faded down the hall.
Rini stayed in the nursery with her. “Valentina? Look at me.” She was afraid to. “I know what has been going through your mind since you brought Ric home from the hospital. At first I didn’t dwell on it, but tonight I have to admit I’m puzzled that I see no signs of you or our family in the baby. Before you turn yourself inside out, there’s a simple way to learn the truth.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Get a DNA test done.”
“Exactly. Then you’ll know the baby is yours and you can stop driving yourself mad with worry.”
Her breath froze in her lungs. “You wouldn’t suggest my doing that if you didn’t have doubts, too.” Nothing got past her successful brother who was known for his genius in the business world. She held herself taut. “What if the baby isn’t mine? I love little Ric with all my heart and soul. He’s so gorgeous and so sweet.”
They stared at each other for an overly long moment.
“Find out the truth first before you tear yourself apart.”
Tears filled her eyes. “If he isn’t my son, then it means that someone else went home from the hospital