Love & Gelato(72)

Daylight had totally transformed the cemetery, taking it from washed-out to vibrant, and I ran diagonally across the grounds, cutting through a batch of headstones and ignoring my blossoming side ache. I had to catch Howard before he started working.

He was sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee, and when he saw me he stood up in alarm. “You aren’t being chased again, are you?”

I shook my head, then came to a stop, struggling to catch my breath.

“Oh, good.” He sat back down. “Do you always sprint? I thought you were more into long-distance running.”

I shook my head again, then took a deep breath. “Howard, I have to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Do you know you’re not my father?”

For a few long seconds my words hung in the space between us like a bunch of shimmering soap bubbles. Then he smiled.

“Define ‘father.’?”

My legs gave out and I stumbled toward the porch.

“Whoa, whoa. You okay?” He put his hand out to steady me.

“Just let me sit down.” I fell to a seat on the porch step next to him. “And you know what I mean by ‘father.’ I mean the man who gave me half my DNA.”

He stretched his legs out long in front of him. “Well, in that case, no. I’m not your father. But if you go with another definition, meaning ‘a man who wants to be in your life and help raise you,’ then yes. I am.”

I groaned. “Howard, that’s sweet and everything, but explain yourself. Because I have spent the last twenty-four hours completely confused and worried about hurting you, and you’ve known all along?”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know you had any idea.” He looked at me for a moment, then sighed. “All right. You up for a story?”

“Yes.”

He settled in, like he was about to tell a story he’d told a million times. “When I was twenty-five I met a woman who changed everything for me. She was bright and vibrant and whenever I was with her I felt like I could do anything.”

“You mean my mom, right?”

“Let me finish. So I met this woman, and I fell completely head over heels in love with her. I’d never felt that way about anyone before—it was like I'd been looking for her all along and just hadn’t realized it. I knew I had to do everything in my power to make her feel the same way, so I started by being her friend. I took an Italian class I didn’t need just so I’d have some extra time with her—”

“The beginners’ class?”

“Shh. Lina, listen. We took Italian together, I sat in on the rest of her classes, and I even worked my way into her circle of friends. But every time I tried to summon the courage to tell her how I felt, I turned into a blob of Jell-O.”

“A blob of Jell-O?” I said incredulously.

“Yes. You know, the gelatin—”

“I know what Jell-O is!” Apparently “good guy” does not equal “good storyteller.”

“What I mean by that is that I liked her so much it literally tongue-tied me. And then I found out I was too late. While I was bumbling around, carrying her books to class and pretending I liked to go out dancing, some other man had swooped in and carried her off.”

“Matteo Rossi.”

He flinched. “How do you know his name?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

He hesitated. “Anyway. I told myself that if this other guy was someone great, someone who really cared about her and made her happy, I would leave it alone. But I knew Matteo, and I knew what he was really like. Unfortunately, your mother was blinded by him for a long time, and even though we tried our hand at a relationship, she ended up choosing him. That’s how you came to be—her relationship with Matteo. But when your mom got sick, I was the one she asked to step in. And so I did. Because I loved her.” He nudged me. “And you’re kind of growing on me too.”

I groaned again. “Okay, nice story. But you got some of it wrong, and why did you and my grandma tell me you’re my father if it isn’t true?”

“I can see now that that was wrong, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to at first. Your grandmother and I started communicating after Hadley passed, and a few weeks in I realized that your grandmother assumed I was your father. I knew it wasn’t true, but I worried that if I told her the truth, she’d change her mind about sending you, and your mother had made me promise to bring you here. I also thought it might be better for you. I thought that if you believed I was your father it would make you more likely to come here and give me a chance.”

“Except I was a total brat.”

“No. Under the circumstances, you were actually pretty great.”

“Liar.”

He smiled. “I guess I just didn’t know what else to do. Your grandfather was already struggling, and I didn’t know what the situation was with Addie’s family. I was worried you wouldn’t have anywhere to go. So when your grandmother asked if she could tell you that I’m your father, I said yes.” He shook his head. “I planned to tell you sooner rather than later, but after that night at the pizzeria, I thought I’d let you settle in first. But you don’t seem to be much of the settling-in type. I should have known you’d see right through it.”