Chapter 2 - THE NAME SHE WASN'T ALLOWED TO USE
"Vanessa, did you really make my mother believe she'd have to ask your permission to be a grandmother to my child?"
Luca's voice was quiet.
That frightened me more than if he'd shouted.
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the engagement table, one hand resting protectively against her pregnant stomach.
"That's an unfair way to put it."
"Then tell me the fair way."
"I'm the baby's mother, Luca. Surely I'm allowed to decide who holds my newborn."
"Of course you are."
Vanessa looked relieved.
"Thank you."
"But that's not what I asked."
Her smile faded.
Luca placed the damaged yellow sweater beside his mother's plate.
"Did you tell her she couldn't call herself Grandma?"
Vanessa glanced toward the twenty-eight guests.
"I suggested we avoid confusing the baby."
Teresa made a small, wounded sound.
I was standing behind her chair, and I felt her fingers tighten around my wrist.
"Confusing the baby?" Luca repeated.
"Babies need consistency. My mother will be helping us during those first few months, and I thought having one primary grandmother figure would make things simpler."
Luca stared at her.
"You think a child can't have two grandmothers?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?"
Vanessa's cheeks reddened.
"I'm saying your mother's health makes things complicated."
Teresa immediately lowered her hands beneath the table.
I hated that.
She'd spent three weeks knitting that sweater, enduring aching joints and sleepless afternoons.
Now she was hiding the very hands that had made it.
Luca noticed.
"Mom, please put your hands back on the table."
She looked embarrassed.
"Sweetheart—"
"Please."
Slowly, she lifted them.
Her fingers were swollen around the knuckles.
Luca gently covered them with his own.
"These aren't something to be ashamed of."
Teresa's chin trembled.
Vanessa sighed.
"Nobody said they were."
"You just told twenty-eight people her hands make her less suitable to be a grandmother."
"I said holding a newborn requires care."
"And I agree."
Luca looked at his mother.
"When the baby comes, we'll make sure you're sitting comfortably. We'll support the baby properly. We'll ask the pediatrician about anything we're unsure of."
Teresa nodded quickly.
"That's all I wanted."
He turned back toward Vanessa.
"But none of that explains why my child shouldn't know who she is."
For several seconds, nobody answered.
Then Vanessa said something that made me look up.
"Because that's what we agreed would be easiest."
Luca frowned.
"We?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"My mother and I."
A woman near the opposite end of the table slowly lowered her wineglass.
Evelyn Bellini.
Vanessa's sixty-two-year-old mother.
She wore a dark emerald evening gown, with her blonde hair arranged in an elegant twist.
I'd served her several times before.
She was polite to people when they agreed with her.
When they didn't, she had a way of speaking that made them feel like children.
Evelyn cleared her throat.
"Perhaps I should explain."
Luca looked at her.
"Please do."
"Vanessa has been terribly anxious about the pregnancy. She's trying to prepare for every possibility."
"That sounds reasonable."
"Then perhaps this conversation could wait until everyone has calmed down."
Teresa immediately nodded.
"Yes. Please. We don't need to discuss it anymore."
But Luca shook his head.
"Mom, you spent the entire evening believing you weren't going to be allowed to know your grandchild."
He looked at Evelyn.
"I'd like to understand why."
Evelyn straightened.
"Because we've been trying to protect Vanessa from unnecessary stress."
I looked toward the sweater.
Something about that answer made my stomach twist.
Protecting Vanessa from stress apparently included humiliating a seventy-eight-year-old woman in front of her own dinner guests.
But I kept quiet.
For the moment.
Luca pulled out a chair for Teresa.
"Mom, sit comfortably."
"I'm already sitting, sweetheart."
He almost smiled.
"Then stop trying to make yourself smaller."
Her eyes filled again.
He placed the sweater carefully in her lap.
Vanessa watched with growing irritation.
"Luca, you're behaving as though I've banned your mother from the baby's life."
"Haven't you?"
"No."
"Then what is she allowed to be?"
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Evelyn stepped forward.
"A loving older relative. Surely that should be enough."
Teresa flinched.
Luca slowly turned toward her.
"My mother isn't simply an older relative."
Evelyn's expression hardened.
"Biology doesn't automatically make someone suitable for every role."
"No," Luca answered. "But being seventy-eight doesn't erase a person's place in the family either."
A few guests nodded quietly.
Then Teresa whispered, "Luca, there's something on the sideboard."
He turned immediately.
"What is it, Mom?"
She looked embarrassed.
"I wasn't going to show you."
"Show me what?"
Teresa glanced toward Vanessa.
Then she lowered her eyes.
I knew what she meant.
Earlier that afternoon, Vanessa had asked me to arrange a stack of cream-colored cards for a small celebration she'd planned after the baby arrived.
I'd assumed they were ordinary invitations.
But Teresa had seen one.
And afterward, she'd gone very quiet.
I crossed to the sideboard and brought the stack to Luca.
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Emily, those aren't ready."
I stopped.
Luca held out his hand.
"Give them to me."
I did.
He examined the first card.
Then the second.
His face changed.
The cards described a future gathering to welcome the baby.
One read:
Evelyn Bellini — Proud Grandmother.
Another read:
Teresa Moretti — Special Family Guest.
Luca stared at those words for a long moment.
"Special family guest?"
Vanessa took a breath.
"It's merely wording."
He looked at her.
"She's my mother."
"Of course."
"She's the baby's grandmother."
"Biologically, yes."
The room went silent.
Luca's jaw tightened.
He turned the card over.
Then he looked toward Evelyn.
"Who chose these descriptions?"
Vanessa answered too quickly.
"I did."
But Evelyn placed her glass on the table.
"No, Vanessa."
Her daughter turned sharply.
"Mother, please."
May you like
Evelyn looked directly at Luca.
"I chose them. And if you want to blame someone for the rules concerning your mother, you should start with me."
