COMPLICATED.

CHAPTER 33

MY PERSON?

"Keep your eyes wide open, sweetheart. Mom will be here in just a few minutes, and I want to make a great impression!" Dad whispered to me, his voice laced with that childhood trepidation that only great surprises can evoke.

I smirked like a co-conspirator, clenching my fists in excitement; I couldn't wait to see Mom’s reaction to the surprise party we had been organizing for weeks, amidst late-night whispers and secret plans. Everything was ready: the house was so brightly lit and decorated that it looked like Santa Claus's workshop, a riot of warm lights making every corner of the living room shimmer.
Mom’s entire family, in a state of almost comical ferment, was bickering over where to place the birthday cake and the best spot to set down the gifts, moving boxes and trays by mere centimeters each time. They were all perfect and precise, just like her, obsessed with detail; that’s clearly where she gets it from! My father and I were the least nervous, even though, deep down, this whole party idea hadn’t seemed like a great one to me from the start. A nagging thought was always present in my little head, a doubt that made me wrinkle my nose...
"Dad, Mom is expecting piccola Paul any day now... aren't we going to scare him too?" I whispered worriedly, checking the final details while looking at the colorful party horns with a hint of disgust, imagining the poor baby jumping inside her belly.
My father let out one of his rare, genuine laughs—that deep sound that always made me feel safe. He took my hand and spun me around, making the layers of my oversized pink tulle dress flare out and rustle against my legs.
"You’re just like me—you hate surprises. But your mother adores them, so we have to do this. She’ll be so happy, and so will your future little brother."
I faked a smile to please him, but the anxiety wouldn't leave me until I saw her reaction. Suddenly, we heard the roar of a car engine entering the driveway, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the lane. Everyone scrambled toward the windows, pushing and shoving to get a better look; I stood back, watching them with confusion, feeling very small. I was the only child in a sea of adults, as was almost always the case. Nick had a fever, and his father was busy being ill, so his mother stayed home to look after them. I had offered to help her, but Nick had categorically forbidden it; he insisted that I shouldn't miss this for anything in the world. After all, it was my mother’s party and I was her piccola girl—I had to be there at any cost.
"She’s coming! Quick, everyone to your places! Someone kill the lights!" my aunt shouted in a panic, waving her arms like a crazed orchestra conductor. She was the general of their family; I used to worry about my mother, but Aunt Margaret was much worse!
My father surreptitiously grabbed a small red box from his desk, tucked it into his pocket with a swift motion, and then grabbed my hand, dragging me behind the large velvet sofa. I made sure everyone was hidden in their proper spots, between curtains and armchairs. Then I turned back to him, and he put his index finger to his lips, signaling for silence. His face looked so funny, contorted in an expression of waiting, that a little laugh escaped me, and I had to clap my hands over my mouth instantly.
The door opened slowly, and the footsteps echoing on the parquet were quite slow and well-premeditated; knowing her, she was surely wondering why no one was home to greet her. The others gave us a nod, and as agreed, we all jumped up together and finally shouted in chorus the usual word used in these cases. Mom’s eyes went wide, her breath hitched, and she instinctively threw both hands over her baby bump as if to shield the child from the fright; but after a few seconds, the reality sank in, and a massive smile broke across her perfectly made-up face, lighting it up more than the candles.
Aunt Margaret and my grandparents were the first to embrace her, followed by colleagues and childhood friends in a whirlwind of well-wishes. After much confusion, Dad and I approached her slowly. The moment she saw us, she began to cry with joy. She held us as if she never wanted to let go, thanking us over and over, claiming she wouldn't know what to do without us. So dramatic! But in my heart, I knew I felt the same way.
I stepped aside so Dad could embrace her better. After wiping away her tears, he pulled the box from his pocket, placed it in her small hands, and squeezed them gently. Mom smiled and, without waiting a beat, opened it to reveal a beautiful silver bracelet with distinct charms that tinkled softly: a boy and a girl holding hands, flanked by a little girl and a little boy. It was us. I was the girl, Paul was the boy, and the couple holding hands were Mom and Dad. We were a family.
They took each other's hands just like the charms and kissed with a passion that seemed to last an eternity, while the world around them seemed to stand still.
"Soon, this bracelet will become reality," Mom promised, looking intensely into our eyes with infinite sweetness. A moment later, she knelt down to reach my height and whispered something in my ear, her floral perfume enveloping me.
"I'll tell you a secret, piccola mia: if one day you find someone who does all of this for you, you will have the confirmation and the awareness that you’ve found the person who wants you happy and loves you immensely. That person will be YOUR person forever."