After Ben (40 page)

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Authors: Con Riley

BOOK: After Ben
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The first time Theo woke to an armful of what felt exactly like Ben, only a little tighter around the abdomen, maybe, he put it down to a teenage prank. The second and third times that Marco stumbled in at the crack of dawn, climbed over his brother, and slid in next to a barely conscious Theo had resulted in Theo threatening to wedge a chair under the door handle. Ben thought it was all hilarious.

“You should let me record the two of you next time, Theo. I could make a fortune. You are both so very pretty.” Theo had pulled the sheet up to his chin, ordered Marco from their room, and insisted they check into a hotel.

Ben said he was too hard on his brother. “He is my mamma’s good luck; that’s why she named him Marco Fortunato—Marco after my pap
à
, Fortunato because of her good luck to have him after Papà
passed away
. Marco always gets exactly what he wants. And why not?
Bambini
should be spoiled. He was only playing with you.”

When identical pairs of warm brown eyes crinkled at their corners, and smiles so similar they could have come from twins beamed at him, Theo always felt slightly dazed. Honestly, the way Marco was treated by his whole family left him shaking his head back when he wasn’t yet thirty and Marco was still a teen. Now that Theo was in his forties, he could see the appeal of having someone to indulge a little. He liked having someone to look after too. In fact, he loved it.

“This is lovely, Theo.” His mom sat on her bed as his dad unpacked their things, placing Ben’s box carefully on top of a dresser. “I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

Theo did. His parents were in their seventies and had just spent practically a full day crossing the globe to do something that wasn’t exactly fun. He left them settling in for a nap, promising to wake them in plenty of time to go to dinner at the de Luca home. He headed along the hallway and had a moment where he thought worry and lack of sleep had finally caught up with him.

Ben stood outside his hotel room door.


Ciao
,
tesoro
. I have been waiting so long for you.”

Theo nodded, his throat completely constricted, his vision blurring. Warm, strong, familiar arms wrapped around him, and he felt kisses pressed onto his cheeks, just like he had nearly every morning and evening for fifteen years. As those arms loosened and began to pull away, Theo held on, pulling him closer instead, burying his face into his neck.

When Theo stood in a hotel hallway over five thousand miles from home and finally sobbed for what he’d lost, Ben’s brother, Marco, held him up.

 

 


W
HAT
is it about you Americans, Theo? Why do you all cry so?” Marco raised his brows over Theo’s mom’s shoulder.

Watching her have the same reaction to Marco had left Theo a little choked. His dad wasn’t much better, surreptitiously swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I did warn them that you resemble your brother.” His mom turned and hugged him too.

“Resemble? They could be twins.”

It was true. The older Marco got, the more like Ben he looked. Now in his early thirties, he was the image of Ben when they first met. Theo squeezed his mom, then asked if she was ready to leave for dinner. She hung on a little harder.

“Are they all like him?”

Marco answered for him. “No, I am the only short one. My brothers are all giants. And stupid. But they can’t help that. Do not judge them harshly. Mamma only made two clever children.”

Theo could tell that his mom had absolutely no idea what to make of Marco. By the time they had fought their way through the early evening Milanese traffic, Marco had told so many tall tales and had made them all laugh so much that they were smiling when they climbed from his car.

“Wait. I will get Mamma.” Marco headed inside while Theo turned to his parents.

“Thank you so much for doing this with me. I’m not sure I could have made myself come on my own.”

His dad held his arm. “It’s the least we can do, son.” His grip was firm and reassuring.

“I just want you to prepare yourself. Ben’s family might seem a little loud….” Before Theo could finish, the front door opened and several children ran out, heading right for Theo, smiling up at him and shouting their greetings. They were followed by several sets of parents—Ben’s other brothers and their wives—as well as Marco. They surrounded Theo’s little family, exchanging so many kisses that Theo thought his dad might go into shock. When his mom grabbed his hand, he put down one of his nieces and bent to hear what his mom had to say.

“Theo, is that….” Ben’s mother stood at the top of the pale marble steps that led to her home. With her steel gray hair pulled back into a knot and black dress fitting her perfectly, she looked as elegant as Theo remembered. He climbed the steps to greet her, pulling her into an embrace. They whispered greetings to each other and swapped kisses. She stopped his apologies by placing her palm over his mouth. Her English was almost perfect.

“Do not give apologies for your sorrow. Just keep coming home, Theo. Never stop coming home to me. Losing two sons was too hard.”

He nodded, kissing the back of her hand, then turned toward his parents.

Watching his mother present Ben’s with the box carrying his ashes was humbling, extraordinarily touching. His mom’s face was streaked with tears as Ben’s mamma thanked her for looking after her son.

The two women entered the house together, side by side. After a few moments, someone pinched Theo’s cheek, saying that he still looked like a boy, while another brother started pointing out his gray hairs. Theo shrugged at his dad as if to say “I warned you,” and they all headed in together.

It was a wonderful dinner.

At several points, fistfights almost broke out among the brothers.

When all the de Luca men were together, every opinion was strong. Whether discussing the wine set out along the table in terra-cotta coolers, or the food—so many different courses, all fragrant, all wonderful—the brothers’ tempers flared and spats broke out at regular intervals. No one paid the slightest attention, apart from Theo’s parents. It wasn’t long before his mom put her fork down and folded her hands in her lap.

“Are they always like this?” Her voice was a whisper.

“No.” Theo shook his head slowly.

“Oh. Thank goodness for that.”

“They are being very polite tonight, in your honor. This is the quietest I have ever seen them.”

His mom’s eyes were huge. When she watched two brothers have a particularly vitriolic exchange, she asked Theo to translate.

“Okay, hang on. Yes… yes… I understand.” He nodded thoughtfully, then turned to his mom. “Paulo is having a slight disagreement with Toni. This is a long-running dispute; there have been many twists and turns in the debate. Paulo is a high-ranking government official, and he believes that his decisions should be adhered to. His brother is younger by eleven months—that is why Paulo keeps calling him ‘little boy’, even though Toni is three inches taller—and that is another reason why Paolo feels he should give in. I remember this quarrel. It’s been going on for years.” He shook his head sadly.

“Oh, Theo. How terrible. What on earth can be worth this much arguing?”

“Parmigiano.”

His mother blinked at him.

“Paulo thinks the recipe needs more cheese. Toni says less.”

“Theo Anderson, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He shook his head, then watched as his mom relived her very own disagreement about cheese. “Ben sounded as if he were arguing with me. I figured he thought I was stupid.”

Theo held her hand.

“Theo, did he want me to argue back?” She gestured around the table. They were surrounded by a happily chatting, arguing, loving family. “Did he talk to me that way because that’s what they do here?”

He nodded. “He thought he could treat you like family. It confused him when he couldn’t, and I didn’t realize early enough. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to intervene later, or to translate. I guess you had to see this for yourself. I’m so sorry I didn’t bring you sooner.”

She shook her head, and his dad leaned in a little closer, saying, “You told us, son. You explained, but this…. Yeah, this is something else.” He paused and took a sip of wine before adding, “He was such a good man, Theo.”

Watching his mom sit opposite Ben’s, nodding in agreement with his dad, Theo felt as if he might have finally set things straight. He raised his glass.

“Ben de Luca,” he toasted.

He had been a wonderful partner, so full of energy and excitement. He put Theo first before anything, or anyone, else. He was annoying and quirky, yet kind and supportive. Ben never failed to listen, and when Theo looked around the table at his extended Italian family and his tiny American one, he guessed that by always listening, he taught Theo how important it was to be heard.

Theo wanted Morgan then. He wanted to be there for Morgan to talk to, when he was ready. He wanted to be the one that Morgan turned to, that he could rely on like Theo had relied—so much, so fucking much—on Ben.

He raised his glass again.

“To Ben.”

Chapter 23

T
HEO
sat with Marco, sipping espresso under the huge glass dome of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, watching from a distance as his dad trailed behind his mom. She was like a magpie seeking out treasures, dipping into each store along the glassed-over arcade of boutiques and bookstores. From their position on the far side of the central octagonal area, they had a clear view of his parents’ progress.

“She is a skilled shopper, Theo. See the way she looks and compares, then backtracks to make her final decision. Your mamma has patience.”

Theo thought it was his dad who had the most patience. He carried her bags and nodded through storefront windows as she pointed out objects that caught her eye. At one point, he turned and rolled his eyes at the boys, but he smiled as he did so. Theo knew he was relieved to have gotten the day before out of the way.

“Why didn’t you bring them over earlier, Theo? I cannot believe she and Ben didn’t find things to agree upon.”

Theo couldn’t believe it either, now. “I don’t know, Marco. It always seemed as if my mom disliked Ben. I guess you had to see it. It was palpable.” At Marco’s quizzical look, he thought harder before trying to explain. “I told you that she thought Ben was too old for me, didn’t I?” Marco nodded. “I’m not sure if that was the only issue. I think it was more that they didn’t know how to communicate. My family is… insular, I guess. Ben was full-on all the time. He couldn’t adjust, and I think he made her uncomfortable without meaning to. You could feel the tension when they were together. I wanted to make them both happy. I could see both sides. I just didn’t know how to bridge the gap.” He shrugged.

Marco took a sip of coffee, then licked his lips slowly. Ben used to do the same thing when he was thinking.

“And is it your new friend who has helped to change your mamma’s mind about the difference in your ages, maybe?”

Theo looked into his own coffee cup, stirring up the grounds that thickened the bottom inch of liquid. Talking about Morgan with Marco seemed absolutely wrong—disrespectful—but it was all he wanted to do. He was so worried that he sagged.

When Marco spoke again he wrapped one warm hand around Theo’s wrist. “My brother would want you to love again. You know this, Theo.”

Theo’s nod was abrupt. Being there, in Milan, in the very cafe where Ben had told Theo that he didn’t ever want them to be parted, made him wear his emotions on his skin.

“Theo,” Marco chided gently, familiarly, “no one would guess you were an accountant,
tesoro
. When you blush and sigh and sniff, you could be a de Luca. We just need to teach you to fight.” He nodded to himself.

“No, no fighting. Fighting is the last thing I want to do.”

Marco’s hand slipped from his wrist, but instead of letting go, he laced his fingers with Theo’s and squeezed them. They sat in silence for a few minutes, two grown men, hand in hand while they finished their coffee. Theo felt the tension begin to untwist from around his ribs.

“You are troubled, no?” Marco asked. Theo nodded slowly. “Take me back to your hotel room, Theo. Let us talk in private. See if I cannot solve your problems for you.” They crossed to his parents, who assured him that they could easily find their way back after lunch.

His mother beamed. “Oh, Theo. This is wonderful. No one will just sell you something. All the storekeepers keep asking us questions. We could be here all day.”

Theo took their purchases back to the hotel for them, mentally calculating, just as he’d done on practically every vacation with Ben, how much extra they would need to pay on their return journey, and deposited the bags on his parents’ bed before heading to his room. Marco was already sprawled across his bed, clicking away on Theo’s laptop. He looked up as Theo toed off his shoes, then sat with his back to the headboard.

“Who are these people?” The laptop screen was full of pictures from the last office party. Theo took the laptop and waited until Marco arranged himself comfortably against the pillows.

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