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Well. I guess if anyone is going to get him to smile, it better be his kid.
“Luna, I will swim. But only if your mom agrees,” he says, casting me a meaningful look.
I wrinkle my nose at him. I hesitate for one second.
Could this be something that makes them a little too close?
“Please Mommy!” Luna screeches.
Oh, lord. I don’t have another fight with my child in me.
“Okay. You can swim. But be careful and wear your floaties!” I call out.
Luna’s already pulling them on as she flings herself into the water. With a graceful dive, Elio follows her. He rises up out of the water, holding onto a wriggling, screeching Luna, who is demanding that he toss her into the pool.
I look down at my lap.
The sight of Elio’s carved chest, covered in drops of water that are illuminated by the setting sun, is altogether too much.
Next to me, Gia snorts. “I see he groomed his chest hair.”
I don’t know what he did. I guess it’s not like wild looking, but there’s still hair there, sprinkled across the wide plain of his tan pecs in a perfect looking pattern.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I mumble.
She casts me a long look, then sits back. Sunglasses on, she tilts her head to the last of the sun.
“We’re all the way we are for a reason, sis. And we all become someone else for a reason too.”
Her words feel cryptic, especially for Gia.
But I have a feeling that she’s dropping a hint about Elio.
And I’m not quite sure I’m ready to figure out what it is.
14
ELIO
The dayat the pool went so well.
Luna and I ended up swimming and playing until the sun went down, and Caterina called the whole thing to a close. Luna and I had both pouted, but ultimately, Caterina’s word is law.
She, as she’s made clear, is Luna’s mother.
And I am earning the right to be a parent.
After swimming, we changed, and Francesca served us on the patio. Dinner was an easy affair, just some pasta with some veal that Luna tried warily but ended up opting to remain with the noodles.
Now, Luna is quietly playing on one of the oversized patio chairs with a set of animal figurines that look absurd, and Gia, Caterina, and I are sitting together at the table.
With the light breeze and smell from the lemon trees, I can almost pretend that this is…
Peaceful.
When I was a child, I remembered many nights like this. Times that were quiet and peaceful, where our parents would talk casually amongst themselves about something or another, leaving Gia and me to play by ourselves. There’s a kind of quiet intimacy to this, a level of satiation that can’t be described unless it’s been experienced.
With a jolt, I realize that every time my father lectured me about doing things for the family, protecting the family, making sure the family was safe… this is what he meant.
