He touches my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Did you send the roses?” I ask on the way to the car.
He shakes his head. “It was probably something your father arranged with the cemetery as part of the ongoing maintenance.”
I made the final arrangements for my father, although he’d taken care of much of it when he learned he was dying. I wasn’t in a great frame of mind at the time, but the funeral director went through every detail with me. Antonio’s right. There was a contract for perpetual care of the graves. It was quite detailed, although I don’t remember anything about flowers.
Antonio has a private word with Thiago as Valentina gets into the back of the car. I turn to the caretaker of the cemetery, who has been accompanying us since we arrived. “Do you provide flowers for my parents’ graves?”
His brow furrows. “The roses?”
“Yes.”
“No. I assumed the family arranged the weekly delivery.”
Weekly delivery?“Someone brings flowers every week?”
He nods. “Roses. Always in the evening. If you’re uncomfortable about it, we can put them in the trash when we arrive in the morning.”
I shake my head. Garden roses were my mother’s favorite flower. My father must have arranged something, not with the cemetery, but directly with a florist. “They’re beautiful. Please leave them.”
“Get in, Daniela,” Antonio chides, as he comes around the vehicle. He takes my elbow, and guides me into the car, but not before scowling at the caretaker, who stumbles back.
I slide over to make room, but Antonio only sticks his head inside.
“She loved you,” he tells Valentina and me, with the utmost sincerity. “She loved you both.” He squeezes my hand. “What she would want is for you to go on living. To live long and happy lives. You can honor her best by doing just that.”
It’s true.That’s exactly what Isabel would want.
Antonio reaches into his pocket and hands Valentina a cell phone. “You’ll have your own security, like the rest of us, but you’re old enough to have a cell phone too. Daniela’s number, mine, and a few others are programmed in the phone.”
There’s no sense in telling him that he should have checked with me before giving her a cell phone. This is a safety issue, and he’s already made it clear that he’s the last word on our safety. In some ways, I don’t even mind—especially when it comes to Valentina. He knows more about security than I ever will. I do want to ask him about her security detail, but now’s not the time.
“If you need anything,” he continues, “you call one of us. Understand?”
She nods. “Yes. Thank you,senhor.”
“We’re family. My family calls me Antonio, and you should too.”
Her eyes are washed out, but I see a ghost of a smile, and maybe a small sense of relief at his kindness. Antonio has a big presence, and he’s intimidating. Valentina hasn’t had a chance to see the other side of him.
“We’re working on a way for you to be able to talk to your friends. But for now,” he adds, “those are the only numbers you can call.”
Antonio presses a kiss to my hairline. “Thiago will take you back to the house.”
“You’re not coming?”
He gazes at me. “I have business in the city. There’s a lot going on at this time of year.”
I’m disappointed—crushed, really—but I don’t reply. I won’t have the discussion in front of the child. But I will have it—as often as necessary, because I’m determined to make this family work.
29
DANIELA
We text here and there, but the last time I saw Antonio was a week ago at the cemetery. Even my decision to hire Lara as an assistant was relayed by text.
Great, he replied.Cristiano will handle the details.