Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
His mom and I learned just how much love we could cram into one day, into one solitary minute with our son and with each other.
I guess that’s the family my Papa wanted for us all, but it became about other things instead.
But his values of family first, honor, and respect are all still the backbone of what Jasmine, Max, and I have now.
Plus, the missing ingredient that nobody ever took the time to tell me about.
That one little word that took me so long to say out loud, long before I could learn what it truly means.
Love.
“My boy…my little baby boy,” I tell Max, acutely aware that he’s actively listening to me, even if he can’t understand me yet.
“If you do one thing in this life, it’s to find love. I don’t care where or how it happens. I just hope you do. And when you do, shout it to the world. Tell yourself as much as you tell everyone else how much you love something. That way, you’ll never forget. And you’ll never go a day without saying what matters most.”
I lean down and kiss his baby-soft skin. I feel the familiar warmth of his Mama coming up behind me.
Making sure we’re all doing okay.
“You alright, Rocco?” Jasmine asks, taking Max from me and giving him a big hug.
I sniff, then rub at my eye.
“I think, just got some powder in my eye,” I tell her, a crooked smile quivering with emotion as I follow her lead.
I hug her tight, and Max too.
Thanking her when I tell her how much I love her, how much having her as my wife and little Max as our son means to me.
“I love you both so much,” I remind her, almost feeling bad when she starts to cry, but when I press her, she explains.
“Could you love an extra Martinelli just as much?” she asks, putting my hand on her belly.
Nodding when I ask if she’s saying what I think she is.
“I am,” she whispers. “You’re gonna make the best dad who changes two babies at once in the world. I can feel it,” she smiles, and we both sniff a little before we kiss.
Must be something in that baby powder…
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
Jasmine
“Oh, I’m sorry. But I think that’s my suitcase,” I inform the woman ahead of me, picking up my luggage from the carousel.
“Jasmine?” the woman asks, lowering her huge designer sunglasses.
“Maria?” I reply. Astonished.
And a little more than red-faced.
“Feels a little lighter since I last saw it,” she quips, and reaching for an identical piece of luggage, she hands mine back to me.
She looks thinner than last I saw of her.
If that’s at all possible. Some people just never gain weight. I need to deal with it.
But stranger than that, she seems happy enough to bump into me at the airport. She says hi and bye after I accuse her of trying to take the bag that belongs to her anyway.
Except for today, it’s not stuffed with money.
“Maria. Wait!” I call after her.
She has a scarf over her head and those huge glasses on. If it hadn’t been for the suitcase connection and the fact she knows who I am, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
“Give my best to Rocco,” she says politely, and making sure she stays a few steps ahead, I get the message and let myself fall back into the growing crowd.
I almost forget about it completely once I see Rocco and the kids and their grandparents waiting for me.
I forget about Maria and the suitcase, for now, shuffling into a short sprint to hug my babies.
To kiss my man, hold him close, and promise them all I’m never leaving them alone again.
“Mom, you were gone forever,” Max remarks dryly, pushing his glasses back up his nose before he rolls his eyes at his dad, exaggerating the fact I was only gone a day. Asking if he and grandpa can do something worthwhile.
Like, go get some ice cream.
“Sure,” I chime at the same time Rocco agrees, handing his Papa Emma, our two-year-old, and a little cash to Max, instructing all of them to take grandma and grandpa and go get some cones for us all.
“You weren’t getting that suitcase on your own?” Rocco asks, shifting his mock-serious voice for an actual serious one once he senses my mood.
“Honey, what is it?” he asks, putting his arm around mine and walking me over to a bench by the baggage area.
But I don’t need to sit down.
“Is it the tests? Is it the results?” he asks, looking worried again, but I shake my head.
“No, it’s not that… everything… well. We can get to that,” I say, gnawing at my lip.
“I just ran into Maria Portello,” I tell him. Rocco looks a little taken aback but reminds me it’s not impossible to see the same person more than once in your life.