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Of course.
I reach for the phone hesitantly, knowing very well he probably has some means of tracking software on here. It doesn’t matter because I’ll only use it to communicate with him.
“I will be gone for most of the day,” he says. “You have Nino’s schedule. I trust you will not deviate.”
I nod my assurance, but he lingers for another long moment. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the intensity of his gaze makes a flush creep over my neck. I swallow, and his eyes dip to the triangle of skin between my scarf and the top button of my suit jacket. Then, before I can convince myself I didn’t imagine it, he’s gone.
I glance down quickly, checking that the buttons are done, and nothing is inappropriate or out of place, but there isn’t.
Nino peeks up at me, and I offer him a watery smile. He’s a beautiful boy with such a sweet disposition. I knew he would be.
I’m so happy to be here with you, Nino.
He listens to my message, considering it for a moment. “Why can’t you talk?”
This is how I talk, I write. But I can teach you a new way too. Would you like to learn? It can be our own secret code.
He seems intrigued by the idea, and I’m glad when he nods. I check my watch, noting we have about twenty minutes before Manuel will drive us to the school to drop him off for the day.
I hear you’re a star student. I bet you can say the alphabet in English and Italian.
He giggles quietly. “That’s easy. I learned that a long time ago. I’m in first grade now.”
Of course. I wiggle my brows at him playfully. Why don’t we try this? I’ll show you the first ten letters with my fingers, and you can copy me.
He watches me curiously as I show him an A, and it seems to take him a moment to work up the courage to try for himself, but he does. He does it well.
That’s very good. You are so smart. Should we try B?
He nods again, and I show him B. Within ten minutes, we have gone through each of the first ten letters twice, and I tell him practice makes perfect. I have no doubt he’ll learn quickly. Children pick up languages very fast, and Nino is incredibly bright.
I think we need to brush your teeth now. It’s almost time to leave.
He leads the way to his bedroom, and I follow him inside, glancing around the space with equal surprise and disappointment. It’s almost a replica of my room, right down to the adult-sized bed. The only difference is the bench at the foot, which I presume is how he must climb into it. The color scheme is the same, and the decorative pieces are too. It’s completely absent of the vibrant colors I’d expect to see in a child’s room. There’s no toy box. No superhero comforter. No Legos strewn about the floor. In fact, if I were to walk in here accidentally, I would never guess that a child lived here.
Tension seeps into my shoulders as Nino enters the bathroom and pulls out a step stool to brush his teeth. I watch him with a growing sense of sadness and injustice over the complete lack of insight on Alessio’s part. Could he really be so clueless about the needs of children? Is he that emotionally inept?
These are questions I’ll have to contend with later. Another glance at my watch confirms we need to be downstairs in two minutes. I help Nino finish up, replacing his toothbrush in the holder and quickly adjusting one side of his hair.
Are you ready?
He nods, and to my surprise, reaches for my hand. That simple gesture stabs at my heart. I can only imagine how starved for affection he is. I want to tell him that it’s all going to be okay. I want to make him promises that I’m going to be here for him, but I’ll never make a promise I’m not sure won’t be broken. I’ve learned the hard way there are no guarantees in life.
We walk downstairs together, and Manuel seems surprised to see Nino holding my hand already. His eyes focus on that connection for a long moment before he turns abruptly to open the door. He doesn’t say much, but I find that I’m okay with that. Once Nino and I are comfortably secured in the backseat of the car, we resume our practice of the letters, repeating them all the way to the school.
“We’re here,” Manuel tells me. “We can walk him inside together.”
I want to tell him that’s not necessary, that I can do it myself, but I know it’s probably a non-negotiable point. He said he would accompany us anywhere we go, and it’s clear he means it. So together, all three of us walk inside, and Manuel watches as I say goodbye to Nino with a promise to see him after school before his piano lessons. He nods and takes his seat in the classroom, and then I force myself to turn and walk back to the car.
