Somehow, he reminded me of who I used to be and made me want to be that person again, to live life for the moment. And the oddest thing of all? I felt safe with him. Not just physically but emotionally, like I could tell him anything.
I was about to admit that, but his phone started ringing. He apologised, pulled it out of his pocket, and answered it quickly.
“Si?Okay. Come to mine tomorrow, ten AM.Ciao.”
He hung up, but as soon as he did, it started again. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I quickly ended the recording on my phone while he was distracted, then put it back in my bag.
“Raya?” His expression shifted to concern, and he sat up straighter. “Okay, okay. Where are Gio and Liv?” He groaned at her answer. “It’s alright. Put her on the phone.” There was a pause. “Mamma? It’s Sani. Calm down. You have to calm down because I can’t understand you.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked. He shook his head.
My heart thundered at the deep lines of anguish on his face. He dropped his head into his other hand as he listened to his mother’s hysterical voice on the other end of the phone.
“Mamma, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I need you to take a deep breath. And another. You’re fine.” He closed his eyes and clenched his fist to his mouth as if fighting back his own emotions.
I reached for him before I could stop myself; the need to comfort him was almost instinctive. It was so unsettling to see him visibly upset. I wrapped my hands around his forearm to let him know I was there.
“No,Mamma. It’s not Vinny.” His whole body tensed as she spoke, and he exhaled a shuddering breath. “It’s me, Sani. Santino. Your son.”
She screamed so loudly down the phone that I heard her. “No! You’re lying! That’s not possible. My baby boy is upstairs in his cot! Vinny! Where is Vinny?”
I couldn’t understand what was happening, but whatever it was had Santino trembling with emotion.
“Mamma, please. You need to calm down, okay?”
“Stop calling me that! You’re not my son. Who are you? Where is Vinny? He should have been home an hour ago.”
It clicked. The knowledge I had from recognising and managing patients with dementia in hospital was enough for me to spot the signs. She was reliving a memory, another time. And when that happened, you should never try to pull that person back to reality. It only caused more anxiety and distress.
“Can I speak to her?” I asked quickly, which made Santino frown at me and shake his head.
He covered the phone. “She’s not well. She has—”
“Dementia?”
He nodded.
“I think I can help. Please?”
He regarded me carefully, then passed me the phone. I took a deep breath and put her on loudspeaker so Santino could hear.
“Is this Cecilia? Cecilia Buccini?”
“Si. Who is this? Who are you?”
“My name is… Quinn,” I said calmly, using my mother’s name because it was the first thing that popped into my head. “I’m a waitress at the restaurant where your husband is dining this evening. Vincenzo Buccini? I’m calling on his behalf. He’s currently in a meeting and wanted me to let you know it’s running longer than expected.”
“Oh,” she gasped, letting out a shuddering breath. “Can I speak with him? Is he busy?”
My eyes snapped to Sani’s, but I could tell from the pain in his expression that this was too much for him. I couldn’t ask him to pretend to be his dead father.
“Si.He is busy. But I am happy to help if I can.”
“I—I didn’t know where he was.”
“You seem worried. It’s okay, Cecilia. He’s in a meeting.”
She exhaled again, calming down. “Okay.Grazie. I don’t like being alone in the house. I can’t sleep without him.”
