Page 22 of Her Italian Wedding (Sweet Treats 9)

I take a deep breath and summon my courage.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just afraid,” is my small voice. “I mean, they’re Italian and while I know they’ll be overjoyed about the baby, I think they’d want to raise their child in Europe, whereas I’m American …” My voice trails off.

“So you want to raise the baby here,” says Shosh in a firm voice.

“I do,” is my pitiful reply. “Italy has all these coronavirus cases right now, but it’s not just that. It’s that I want my kids to be American. I want them to have American values, and not that of the old world. I want them to go to school here, and to grow up speaking English. It’s fine if they speak Italian too, but I don’t want that to be their first language, not when English is so predominant.”

My friend is quiet for a moment.

“Have you told Matteo and Domenico that?”

I shake my head slowly.

“No, because I haven’t even told them that I’m pregnant,” is my whisper.

Shoshanna is silent another moment.

“Mel, are you planning on going back to Italy?” she asks. “You know, it’s not safe to travel if you’re close to giving birth.”

At that, I feel ashamed and look down at the table. My fingers grip the glass of orange juice, and the knuckles are white.

“Calm down,” my buddy soothes. “You can tell me the truth. It’s fine, Melissa. Everything’s going to be fine.”

At that, I look up with a sheen of tears in my eyes.

“No, I wasn’t planning on returning to Europe,” is my choked confession. “I want to stay here and have my baby here. Not here in Boca exactly,” I say in a choked voice. “But I don’t want to go back to Italy. Not while I’m expecting.”

My buddy takes a deep breath and covers my hand with her own. Her warm touch is reassuring and I grasp her fingers tightly, tears suddenly springing from my eyes.

“Am I making a mistake?” I add with a small sob. “I want this baby so much, and Domenico and Matteo mean so much to me too. But I don’t want to go back to Europe. I can’t. What should I do?”

Shoshanna squeezes my hand and smiles reassuringly.

“I think you should talk to them,” she says. “They’re the fathers of your child, and they’re going to want what’s best for the baby too. Everyone knows that coronavirus is rampant in Italy. They’ll understand that you don’t want to return if you’re pregnant.”

“But it’s not just that,” I sob, wiping at my eyes. “I don’t want to go back even after this pandemic is over. I want to stay. I’ve grown to love my life, and while traveling to Italy was fun, I consider the United States my home. I don’t want to leave it forever.”

Shoshanna squeezes my hand again and offers another reassuring smile.

“Then tell them that,” she encourages. “You haven’t made any mistakes so far, Melly. The only potential mistake you might make is not telling the men you love how you feel. You have to be open with them, and express your preferences. That’s a big thing that Dads and Daughters doesn’t teach you, sweetheart. While a daughter, you’re hemmed in. You’re told how to behave, how to act, and what to do, but the real world’s not like that. You are a self-actualized woman, and you can control your own destiny.”

I sob again, looking at her through teary eyes.

“Are you saying it’s time for me to leave the club?” I blubber. “But I’m still so young!”

Shosh grabs my hand again and squeezes it.

“There is no “right time” or “right age,”” she clarifies. “There’s only a right feeling, and right now, Melissa, I think you’ve crossed that threshold. But first things first: you have to talk with Matteo and Domenico. You do love them, don’t you? I feel like I can sense it between the three of you.”

I take a deep shuddering breath and smile through my tears.

“I do,” is my soft reply. “I love them so much.”

Shoshanna leans in for a hug.

“Then tell them!” she exhorts fiercely. “It’s going to be okay. You’re a brave, bold woman. You’ve already gone to Italy by yourself, to take on the role of First Daughter with two men you’ve never met before. You’ve succeeded, Melissa, when most girls with our backgrounds never get off the ground.”

With that, we cry and laugh at once, embracing each other. After all, Shoshanna and I are from humble beginnings. We didn’t have the benefit of loving, stable families, and grew up in group homes. Yet somehow, love has found me despite my unconventional job, and now, my friend is telling me to move forward and seize the day.

“Thank you,” I mumble into her hair, still crying a little. “You’re always there for me and I appreciate it.”

---