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“Ah, no, son. What are you doing?”
And just as I made to take the bundle from him, his arms shot out to the side, and everything fell to the floor. Leo shrieked with laughter and hightailed it out of my bedroom.
“You’re cleaning this up, boy!” I yelled after him, but my warning was only met with more laughter.
As I waded through the selection at my feet, I heard his footsteps booming up and down the hall on the upper landing. And then they suddenly stopped. I smiled to myself as I heard Maria, the nanny, get into it with him.
“Running is for animals,” she told him, with the tone of an old Italian grandmother. A firmness that was actually love, something many misunderstood if they hadn't grown up with it. I had, and that was why Maria had gotten the job of caring for my son.
“Are you an animal, signore?” she asked.
Leo roared his response, and I rolled my eyes, getting up with the black silk bow tie I’d asked for before all hell had broken loose.
“I sent you up to shower, but you’re still stinky.” Maria’s scolding continued. “No shower, no story. You know the rule.”
Then a series of chimpanzee noises filtered into my bedroom, which set off a menagerie of every zoo animal Leo could think of. I heard his heavy footfalls signifying him dancing around Maria or darting out of her reach as she most likely tried to grab hold of him.
“Signore Leonardo, you listen to me…”
I shook my head with a laugh. When I was his age, that would’ve been enough to stop me dead in my tracks. But Leo had us all wrapped around his finger.
“I don’t want a story,” he said then. “Stories are for babies, and I’m not a baby.”
My hands paused their action on the half-done bow tie, and I trained my ears to the sudden change in conversation out in the hall. Leo never spoke that way. It broke my heart to hear the choked back tears in his voice all of a sudden.
“I read stories all the time,” Maria replied. “Am I a baby?”
There was no answer. If I knew anything about my son, he was probably pouting.
“Papa reads lots of stories too,” she went on. “Do you think Papa is a baby?”
There was a few more seconds of silence, and then Leo finally spoke.
“Justin from school saw Giraffe Says High in my bag and laughed at my book and said I’m a baby.” I could make out the definite start of sniffling, and my heart sank.
This time it was my own reflection I stared at. The man who was always too busy to spend any real time with his son so that he confided in his nanny even though he’d been buzzing around me all night.
I quickly fixed my bow tie and shrugged into my tuxedo jacket before meeting them out in the hallway.
Kneeling beside Leo, I said, “Justin from school is a monkey.” Leo snorted laughter. “He’s a monkey who’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a yacht.” I raised my eyebrows at him, knowing he’d get the hint.
Leo’s face brightened, his eyes still wet with tears, but at least he was smiling. “You mean we can take it out today?”
I laughed softly. “Not tonight, kid. But this weekend. What do you say? We’ll get an early start and make a whole day of it.”
He flung his arms around my neck and squeezed me hard. “Can Uncle Chris come too?”
My plan was to spend time alone with him, but the mention of Christopher gave me another idea. Because if I invited him and just happened to mention that he could bring along whoever he liked… maybe that would include his sister.
“Of course, he can come,” I replied, patting his back. “Now go get that shower. You stink.”
I tickled him, which sent him running off to his bathroom in squeals of laughter.
“You’re good with him,” Maria said. “You shouldn’t feel bad for the work you do. It’s for him.”
I gave her shoulder a grateful squeeze. “Thanks, Maria. You’re the good one in this family.”
She smiled warmly at me. “I keep telling you I’m taken, Mister Luca. Stop flirting and go to your party. Please.”
