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I sit down, grimacing at the sensation of sand all over my butt. “What are you doing?”
“Making castles. Look,” she points to a hole in the ground. “This one is just like Mr. Mommy’s Friend’s house.”
I fail to see the resemblance, but that’s okay. She has years to perfect her understanding of architecture.
She has only a few fleeting moments to be five years old on an Italian beach, playing in the sand before eating an epic picnic made for her by a nonna who thinks she hung the moon.
“I see it.” I kneel closer. I add some sand, making a little wall. “Here, now it has a wall outside the garden.”
“What about the trees!”
I laugh. It’s part question, part frantic screech. I look around, grabbing some twigs that washed up. “Here, look. Trees.”
Luna visibly relaxes. “Okay Mommy, what’s next?”
I sigh.
I know that she just means with the little castle she’s building, but I feel the question in my bones.
What’s next for her? What’s next for us?
I know one thing. I’m too darn interested in Elio. I can’t stop myself; he’s gorgeous, and he’s just so…
Elio.
But that’s not something I need to focus on. I have to figure out a way to keep myself from sinking into him, and from being distracted by him. I need to find a way to get Luna and me back to the States, and to get information from Elio about what happened to our parents.
Even if I’m not quite sure anymore that he had anything to do with it.
“Baby, what do you think of my friend?” I ask my child cautiously. I’m genuinely curious at this point, since she has spent a little time in his company.
I’m also afraid to hear her answer, but I don’t let that fear stop me.
I need to know how much damage it’s going to do to her when I take her away.
“He’s nice. He smells good and likes to do funny things,” she happily responds. “Does he like chocolate vanilla cake?”
“I don’t think he’s ever had it,” I say honestly. His surprise at the concept of marble cake makes me feel like I’m not too far off on that one, and I’m glad there’s at least something about Elio that I don’t have to lie to my child about.
She scoops the wet sand into her hands, patting it into a large cone. “Maybe we should make him one.”
“Maybe we should,” I agree.
I know those words are going to come back to haunt me. Young kids don’t understand the word ‘maybe’, but I’m too lost in thought to do anything except agree.
Plus, it wouldn’t be too bad to make Elio a cake…
Ugh.
There I go again, thinking of things with Elio like we’re together. We aren’t. Not really.
We have Luna.
That’s enough.
I consider my options. I’d never use Luna as leverage, but it does seem like Elio would be interested in trading information for access to her. The very thought makes me sick, so I discard it.
What else is Elio interested in?
