Chapter 13 - THE FATHER WHO GAVE HIS BLESSING

Frank noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
He had spent eighty-two years observing people.
A stroke had slowed his speech.
It had not dulled his understanding.
One afternoon, I visited him in the garden.
He was sitting beneath a tree with a book in his lap.
"Natalie."
I smiled.
"Hello, Frank."
He looked at me.
"You... like my son."
I froze.
"What?"
He grinned.
"Don't pretend."
I laughed nervously.
"Is it that obvious?"
Frank nodded.
"Very."
I sat beside him.
He reached for my hand.
"He's a good man."
I nodded.
"I know."
Frank looked toward the house.
"But he carries... too much."
I followed his gaze.
Marco stood on the terrace speaking into his phone.
Frank continued.
"He thinks... everything is his responsibility."
I smiled sadly.
"He does."
Frank squeezed my hand.
"Remind him... he's allowed to be happy."
My eyes filled.
"I'll try."
Frank studied me.
Then said something that made me cry.
"You brought me... downstairs."
I looked at him.
He smiled.
"When everyone else... wanted me hidden."
I shook my head.
"You deserved to be there."
Frank nodded.
"Yes."
His voice trembled.
"And you knew it."
He reached into his jacket.
Then handed me a small velvet box.
I stared.
"Frank?"
"Open it."
Inside was a delicate gold bracelet.
A tiny blue stone hung from the chain.
"It belonged... to Marco's mother."
I looked up.
"I can't take this."
Frank smiled.
"She would have... liked you."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
He closed my fingers around the box.
"Family isn't always... blood."
I hugged him carefully.
He held me.
Later that evening, Marco found me sitting in the garden.
He noticed my tears.
"What happened?"
I showed him the bracelet.
His expression changed.
"My mother's."
I nodded.
"Your father gave it to me."
Marco sat beside me.
For a long moment, he stared at the bracelet.
Then he smiled.
"She would have loved you."
I looked at him.
"How do you know?"
He took my hand.
"Because she loved people who told the truth."
May you like
And in that moment, I knew I was no longer simply someone who worked in the DeLuca household.
I had become part of its heart.