Chapter 13 - LEO TURNED EIGHTEEN AND TOLD RICARDO HE WOULD NEVER RUN MORETTI MARITIME
Leo’s eighteenth birthday was quiet.
By Moretti standards.
Thirty people.
No ballroom.
No senators.
Il Verano offered private room.
Leo said no.
He wanted rooftop at our house.
Pizza.
Photography prints.
Dante insisted heaters.
Fine.
At nine, Leo asked Ricardo to go office alone.
I knew.
College decision.
He had been accepted at RISD and NYU.
Also business program Ricardo secretly liked.
Leo entered with envelope.
Ricardo emerged twenty minutes later looking like man had lost election.
“What?”
I asked.
“He’s going Rhode Island.”
I smiled.
“You knew likely.”
“I hoped New York.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pathetic.”
Good.
Then:
“He said he will never run company.”
There it was.
I sat.
“How did you answer?”
“I said okay.”
“Did face?”
“What face?”
“That one.”
He sighed.
“I asked why.”
“And?”
“He says he doesn’t want life where every choice affects ten thousand employees.”
Reasonable.
“He wants photography.”
“Maybe documentary work.”
“Maybe teaching.”
“Good.”
Ricardo stared.
“It feels like line ends.”
No.
Company not bloodline requirement.
“Your family continues if Leo is photographer.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
Honest.
Then Leo came in.
“I can hear you.”
“Good.”
He sat.
“Dad, I’m not rejecting you.”
“I know.”
“I like ships.”
“I don’t want them.”
“I know.”
“Mama said—”
“I know what your mother said.”
Ricardo’s voice cracked.
Leo softened.
Then:
“I don’t want you to sell company because me.”
Ricardo laughed.
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
“Do you want board someday?”
“Maybe.”
“Not job.”
“Maybe.”
Fine.
Connection without obligation.
Then birthday gift.
Ricardo gave him camera Isabella had owned.
Recovered from storage years ago.
Restored.
Not expensive modern.
Film camera.
Leo cried.
“Does it work?”
“Yes.”
“Did she use?”
“Yes.”
Photos from before he born.
He held.
Then:
“Thank you.”
No ships.
Good.
At party, Victor did not attend.
Olivia did.
Victor sent nothing.
Respected.
Then Leo surprised.
He had invited Victor for next day coffee.
Ricardo stared.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m eighteen.”
True.
“No therapist?”
“No.”
Ricardo looked at me for rescue.
None.
Leo said:
“I want relationship maybe.”
“Not trust.”
“I want know him as person.”
Ricardo struggled.
Then:
“Okay.”
He did not insert.
Victor and Leo met public café with no parents.
Dante nearby because baseline.
Leo returned.
“How?”
I asked.
“Weird.”
“Good weird?”
“He showed me old photos of Dad with terrible hair.”
Excellent.
Then:
“Did you talk Mom?”
“Yes.”
“What said?”
“He says he loved her.”
“Do you believe?”
“Yes.”
“People can love and scare same person.”
He had learned.
Then:
“Forgive?”
“Some.”
Same as father.
Family not healed into one shape.
Just less toxic.
Then graduation high school.
Leo used name Leo Calder Moretti.
Ricardo cheered.
I cried.
Sarah shouted.
Dante pretended security scanning while wiping eye.
After ceremony, reporter approached outside because Moretti heir.
“What are your plans for Moretti Maritime?”
Leo smiled.
“None.”
Headline next day:
MORETTI HEIR WALKS AWAY FROM EMPIRE.
Dramatic.
Not accurate.
He hadn’t joined.
Ricardo laughed.
“Apparently empire abandoned.”
Leo:
“You’ll survive.”
Elena Ruiz CEO gave interview saying succession professional, no assumption family.
Company stock? Private maybe business partners liked stability.
Then Ricardo stepped from executive chairman to non-executive chairman over next year.
Not because Leo.
Succession.
He finally had time.
Too much.
He reorganized kitchen.
I threatened.
He joined Moretti Foundation board with governance rules.
Supported port worker education, road-safety programs, mental health.
No naming self.
Some penance? Maybe.
Therapy helped ensure not self-punishment.
Then my center expanded.
I became professor part-time.
We launched national training.
Ricardo occasionally traveled with me when invited.
No limousines inside conferences.
He learned economy? No, rich man can fly business. Fine.
Then Leo left college.
Move-in day.
Ricardo carried boxes badly.
Dante not allowed dorm room at Leo request.
Security liaison external.
Leo’s roommate stared at Ricardo.
“Are you…?”
Ricardo:
“Leo’s dad.”
Good.
Then roommate later Googled.
Of course.
Leo texted:
THANKS. NOW HE THINKS I’M MAFIA PRINCE.
Ricardo:
ARE YOU?
Leo:
NO.
Ricardo:
THEN PROBLEM SOLVED.
Leo:
I HATE YOU.
Normal.
We drove home.
Empty backseat.
Ricardo quiet.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then:
“Is this what staying looks like?”
“What?”
“Letting him leave.”
“Yes.”
He looked out window.
Isabella had said he needed to believe somebody was staying.
We had interpreted staying as physical presence.
Now we understood.
Sometimes staying means not making someone remain near you to prove love.
We went home.
Leo’s room empty.
May you like
Not abandoned.
Waiting.
