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She nodded again but didn’t repeat my longer phrase. I knew that there would be no quick fix and that I needed to study the technique in more detail, but this was a start, and I was determined to work with Clara to help her.
I didn’t need to tell Lorenzo, though, especially as it might not work. I would be careful not to use the technique in front of him.
“Thanks,” Clara said.
“Thanks,Anni,” I modeled for her.
And she nodded back at me with a smile.
***
That afternoon, the children wanted to make a camp in the den. I set up their pop-up tent, and we brought down pillows and blankets from their bedrooms to put inside. They then proceeded to bring some toys to play camping with. Clara got out lots of her stuffed animals and arranged them in a neat line, while Clemente wanted to put his toy cars in the tent next to him.
On my way back from getting some snacks from the kitchen, I noticed that Lorenzo had left out some papers on the dining table.
Out of curiosity, I went to have a look.
It looked to be a copy of accounts, and when I looked at it more closely, I saw that it was the accounts for the bakeries.
Scooping up the papers, I took them back with me to the den. After giving the children the snacks, I sat on the couch and started to look through the papers.
Figures and math had always fascinated me, and there was a lot of information contained in the accounts. Grabbing some drawing paper and a pencil from the children’s art supplies cupboard, I began taking some notes as I went through the papers.
And that’s how Lorenzo found me when he came home for dinner that evening.
Walking into the den, he raised his eyebrows as he looked at the toys, pillows, and blankets everywhere.
“Sorry.” I jumped up from the couch. “I’ll have this all cleared up in the next ten minutes.” I knew he really hated mess around the house.
Clara and Clemente waved to their father from inside the tent.
“Looks like the kids are having fun.”
“Yes, they’ve really enjoyed playing camping. Come on, children, time to tidy up and then we can have dinner.”
I picked up the papers, hoping he was distracted by the kids enough that he wouldn’t notice what I was holding.
I should have realized, though, that I wouldn’t get anything past him.
“What’s that?” he demanded, his gaze lasering in on the papers.
“Um, you left some accounts for the bakeries in the dining room. I was taking a look through them—you know to see if I could find what might be causing the issues you mentioned.”
“You wouldn’t understand them,” he replied in an arrogant manner.
“I can read profits and loss accounts, and I also understand balance sheets.”
He looked at me carefully. “Where did you learn that?”
I shrugged. “I taught myself a while back.”
“You taught yourself?” His words dripped with his condescending tone. “And how did you manage that?”
“These sorts of things interest me, so I started to look at some examples and explanations of what the different parts meant. It wasn’t that hard.” His superior attitude had irritated me.
“I need those papers back.” He held out his hand to me.
I handed them back reluctantly.
