Valentino's Love-Child

She wasn’t sure when she was going to tell him about the baby. She had no doubts she would do so, but wanted to time it right. There was always a chance of miscarriage in the first trimester, and with her track record she wasn’t going to dismiss that very real possibility. She’d lost every chance she’d had for a family up to now, it was hard to believe that this time would work out any differently.

She could still hope, though.

That didn’t mean she was going to share news of the baby before she was sure her pregnancy was viable. She had an appointment with the hospital later in the week. Further tests would determine whether the pregnancy was uteral rather than ectopic. Though her original fertility specialist had told her the chances of having another tubal pregnancy were so slim as to be almost nonexistent, Faith wasn’t taking any chances.

And she wasn’t telling Tino anything until she was sure.

CHAPTER TWO

THE day before her appointment at the hospital was Faith’s day to teach art to the primary schoolers. She’d fallen into the job by accident. Sort of. Faith had told Agata Grisafi how much she loved children and spending time with them, but of course her career did not lend itself to doing so. The older woman had spoken to the principal of her grandson’s school and discovered he would be thrilled to have a successful artist come in and teach classes one day a week to his students.

That’s how it had begun and how Faith had ended up knowing her lover’s mother and son longer than she’d known him. Some people might say Providence had lent a hand, and Faith thought maybe, just maybe they might be right.

Giosue, Tino’s darling eight-year-old son, was in the second group she taught for the day.

He was his normal sweet self, shyly asking her opinion of the drawing he had done of Marsala’s city hall. They were doing a project combining their writing skills and art to give a picture of their city as eight-and nine-year-olds saw it.

“That’s beautiful, Gio.”

“Thank you, signora.”

She moved on to the next child, helping the little girl pick a color for the fish she wanted to draw in the sea so close to Marsala.

It was at the end of class, after all the other children had left, that Giosue came to her desk. “Signora Guglielmo?”

The children called her by the Italian equivalent of William rather than Williams because it was easier for them and she didn’t mind a bit.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

He grinned at the endearment, his cheeks pinkening a little, but so obviously pleased that she made a note to use it again. Sparingly.

No matter how special the place in her heart Tino’s son had, she would not draw attention to it. To do so would embarrass Giosue, most likely infuriate Tino and compromise Faith’s position with the school.

“I would like to invite you to join my family for dinner tonight,” he said formally. It was clear he’d practiced the phrase, as well.

“Does your father know you are inviting me to dinner?” she asked, seriously concerned by this turn of events.

“Yes, signora. He would be very pleased if you came.”

Shock slammed through her. “Did he say that?”

“Oh, yes.” Giosue gave her another of his shy smiles. “He is very pleased I like you so well.”

Hope bubbled through her like an effervescent spring. Perhaps the black cloud over her life was finally dissipating. Was it possible she had a chance at a real family once again—one that would not be taken away from her? The hope scared her so much it hurt. “I would be honored to join you for dinner.”

“Thank you, signora.” Giosue handed her a folded sheet of paper. “My father made you directions for coming, in case you need them.”

She took the paper. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

She’d been there a few times for lunch with Agata, though the older woman preferred to meet in Pizzolato because she loved visiting Faith’s studio. She said she basked in the privilege of seeing the artist’s work before it was finished.

“It was my idea to make the map. I helped Papa with it.”

That was her cue to open it and marvel over the drawing, which had obviously been done by a child’s hand. The detailed written instructions were in Tino’s distinctive slashing scrawl, however.

“You did a wonderful job, Gio. I particularly like the grapevines with grapes on them you drew to show me what to expect to see.”

“They are ripening on the vines now. Nonno said they will be ready to harvest when he gets back from Naples maybe.”

“If your grandfather says it, than I am sure he is right.”

“He is a master winemaker,” Giosue said proudly.

“Yes. Do you help with the harvest?”

“Some. Nonno takes me into the fields with him. Papa does not work the fields, but that is okay. Nonno says so.”

“Your father’s gift is for the business side of things, I think.”

“Nonno says Papa is very good at making money,” Giosue replied artlessly.

Faith laughed. “I’m sure he is.”

“He can support a family. Nonna says so.”

“I’m sure he can.” Was Giosue matchmaking? Faith held in the smile that wanted to break over her features. She did not want to hurt Giosue by making him think she was laughing at him.

“She thinks he should marry again. She is his mama, he has to listen to her, I think.”

It was really hard to bite back the laugh at that, but she did not think Tino would share his son’s view on this particular subject. “What do you think, Gio?”

“I think I would like a mother who is not so far away in Heaven.”

She couldn’t help it. She reached out and touched him. Just a small pat on the shoulder, but she wanted to hug him to her. “I understand, Gio. I really do.”

He cocked his head to one side. “You never talk about family.”

“I don’t have any.” Her hand slid down to her stomach. She hadn’t. Before. But now, maybe she did.

“You have no mama, either?”

“No. I prayed for one, but it was not God’s will.” She shrugged.

“Do you think I will have another mother?”

“I hope so, Gio.”

“Me, too, but only if I could love her.”