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He cursed when he spilled hot water over the counter, then knocked over the formula and spread powder over himself and the floor. I sent Carlotta a pleading look. I knew Nevio needed to learn how to do this. He needed to step up, but I’d had a long day, and Battista’s cries were too much. She moved to Nevio’s side and took the box from him. After a quick scan of the instructions, she’d assembled the milk bottle within a minute, and I gave it to Battista, who immediately quieted.
Nevio leaned against the counter with a dark look and gave me an I-told-you-so look. I shook my head. “This doesn’t mean anything. Most fathers have to learn how to take care of a baby. It doesn’t come naturally. In a few weeks, you’ll prepare a bottle with your eyes closed.”
I really hoped that his parents were involved by then.
“Shouldn’t he eat solids at some point?” Nevio asked, only briefly glancing at Battista, who still happily sucked at his bottle.
“You can’t feed him pizza if that’s what you think,” I said, then yawned.
Nevio glanced at his watch. It was seven-thirty, and my rumbling stomach told me Battista wasn’t the only one who needed to fuel up on food.
“I’m going to order pizza for us,” Nevio said. “Not Battista, though.”
I just nodded, and Carlotta came over to me, not uttering a protest either.
When we sat at the dining table, she turned to Nevio. “Do you really think you can keep this a secret from everyone? Especially Massimo and Alessio, who are practically attached to your hip. They’ll get suspicious at some point.”
“If you don’t let something slip to Massimo, we should be fine. It won’t be the first time I’m gone for a few hours or overnight.”
Battista watched me eat the pizza with interest, reaching for it several times. Eventually, I put him down on the floor because he seemed eager to move, but once there, he just sat on his bum and watched everything with curious eyes.
Nevio’s phone lit up with a call. Massimo. He pushed the call away. Seconds later, a message popped up.
“What’s up?” I asked, half hoping they’d somehow found out about Battista.
“They’re back in Las Vegas and want to know where I am.”
“It’s on security camera, so eventually someone will know you’re here,” I reminded him, though I was sure he’d taken that into consideration. If Nevio visited us frequently in the next few weeks, Dad would definitely ask why. He’d draw the wrong conclusions.
Nevio shrugged. “They definitely won’t think I’m here because I have a son.”
“Because it’s crazy,” Carlotta said.
Nevio’s phone beeped again. He rolled his eyes. “They can’t be without me.”
“Well, they’ll have to learn to get by now that you have more responsibilities away from them,” I said.
Battista began to squirm again and to rub his eyes.
“I think he needs to go to bed,” I said.
Nevio rose to his feet. “I’ll let you handle it. Better I go to Alessio and Massimo before they start looking for me here.”
“Aren’t you going to help me put him in bed?” I asked pointedly.
“I doubt he wants that. He still looks at me like I’m going to eat him.”
Battista indeed watched Nevio warily. “Most children are wary of unknown men. If you spend more time with him, that’ll change.”
Nevio stayed, but he looked more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. Unfortunately, Battista proved his point and kept rousing from slumber to eye Nevio wearily. Eventually, I told Nevio to go, and he did so without hesitation.
Battista fell asleep soon after Nevio had left. I stayed beside him for a few more minutes before I left the room. With Roman, it had sometimes taken more than an hour to get him to fall asleep, but Battista was obviously used to falling asleep alone.
To my surprise, Nevio was still in front of the door. I’d have thought he had already left to meet with Alessio and Massimo. I wasn’t, however, surprised that he hadn’t gone back into the kitchen to spend time with Carlotta. Her Nevio tolerance was very low today.
He simply leaned against the wall, his face tipped forward, dark strands falling over his eyes. I’d often wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through them, to tug him toward me and feel his own fingers raking through my hair. I paused with my hand still on the doorknob, but now the sight reminded me of the night when everything had changed. My belly clenched as it always did when I thought about it, but the emotions weren’t quite as raw as they used to be. Maybe this was a sign.
“He’s asleep,” I said in a quiet voice.
