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“Hungry?” Cara asked.
I nodded, “Yeah, airplane food still sucks.” There was light laughter and a murmur of agreement among them before a heaping plate of pasta with a colorful blend of olives, peppers, and feta was shoved before me. This made it feel more welcoming, the familiar sense of eating at the family table and sharing wine with people I had once known.
I learned new stories, and though I stayed relatively quiet myself, still felt a little overwhelmed. I felt I would find my place among them when here. As night fell and I found myself in my room, I mulled over the day’s events.
My grandfather wasn’t lucid when I met him, but he was happy. I talked with him as best as I could. I sensed why the family thought he was leaving them. He was barely eating and mostly in his head; otherwise, we would find him asleep usually. He seemed to have little energy, but it was a nice feeling connected to him again.
Roseline came into my mind next, and the email she’d sent. I still hadn’t answered her, but I couldn’t figure out a way to say anything that would explain my disappearance without giving her glimpses of a past I rarely let anyone know. I scrolled through my email again, and there was a new one from her, the impatient woman. I didn’t have the mental capacity to check it; instead, I would look at it tomorrow.
I rolled over in my bed and from my open window, where the smell of orange blossoms wafted through. I fell headfirst into a dream where I danced in the orange tree-filled orchard with Roseline smiling brightly at me.
Chapter 16
Roseline
Afrowncreptontomy face, pinching so tightly that I could feel it adding to the headache caused by my clenched teeth.
Because the first email had gone unanswered, I sent a follow-up. I attached a picture of Ciro to the earlier email in hopes to show how similar they were, so Aldric would see the possibility he was his son. I didn’t understand why it was so important that he believed me. It’s not like I intended to bring him into our lives, but his denial seemed to undervalue who Ciro was. I was about to throw my phone against the wall when I let out a frustrated sigh and forced myself to place it on my side table.
It was early morning, and the sun was already shining brightly. Typically, this moment of silence and beauty would be irreplaceable to me. Still, right now, I only wanted Ciro to interrupt me, to stop me from going over every unnecessary thought in my head. I pulled the covers over my head as if doing so would block out the world and protect me from all the overwhelming negativity in my brain. It didn’t, and it only seemed to make it worse.
It wasn’t until I heard Ciro call out that I finally dragged myself out of bed and away from my melancholy. Who knew that a man who drove me mad, in the not-so-good sense, would make me so miserable? Yet was I fixated on hearing from him because he hadn’t responded to me appropriately about Ciro, or was it because I felt this absolute emptiness in my chest with him gone?
Once in Ciro’s room, I covered his face in butterfly kisses until he gave me a burst of bright and bubbly laughter, which always brought me a natural smile. I scooped him into my arms, and we made our way to the kitchen together as I listened to him stutter through his greeting. “Sleep well?” I asked, and since he hadn’t come to me in the middle of the night or cried out like he usually did, I assumed he had. “Mhm,” he nodded, rubbing a tiny hand across his sleepy eye.
“Did you know mommy has the day off today?” I asked him, and he listened even though he looked like he might fall asleep any second. I recognized the sparkle in his tired gaze. It was the look he got when trying to understand everything and absorbing as much as possible at that moment. He always amazed me with how much he was picking up every day. Especially now that he was with other kids almost every day of the week, he was learning so fast. I almost felt a sense of loss, knowing how fast he was growing up. I pulled him closer to me in a tight hug until he squirmed and complained in a wordless squeal. I laughed and let him go to wander into the kitchen by himself.
The day started with a relatively elaborate breakfast or elaborate for us. Pancakes with thawed berries and lots of syrup, a side of eggs for protein, and a very happy four-year-old made all my worries for earlier slip away as if they’d never existed.
I had plans to go to the park that day. In hopes of erasing my fears even more until they were nothing more than faded pencil streaks on my heart. We slipped out of the house when there was still a bite to the morning air, Ciro sunk further down into his jacket, and his fingers squeezed tighter into my hand. I smiled and offered what little covering I could to his tiny appendages. I pushed the stroller in front of me in case he got tired, and we slowly made our way to the playground in our neighborhood.
There was a band of screaming and laughing children when I got there. Ciro let go of my hand almost instantaneously, recognizing some of his friends and then darting off with them before I could even warn him to be careful. Not like that would do any good; if they were going to get in trouble, they’d get in trouble, and I’m right near him. Children lived in the moment.
I looked back at my phone as if drawn by a magnetic force and felt a painful stab between my ribs as I noticed Aldric hadn’t responded to my first email yet. Was I really that unimportant to him? Was I just a quick fuck? Maybe I was just something for him to release his excess energy.
I realized with an agonized scoff that I had started to feel for him. Even though he got under my skin quickly, I knew that was only because I already cared about him. He was so fun to talk to, even when we were arguing. He made me think in ways others didn’t. Was I falling in love? Or was I already in love with him?
I hated this unknown that stretched before me and taunted me with the promise of loneliness. I didn’t know his answer, and I couldn’t assume the worst. So instead, I pushed it away and sent him another email asking when he’d be back to teach classes, acting as if I’d never sent the picture of Ciro to him.
Maybe I was acting pushy, but I needed some answer, even if he never responded to the second message.
I just needed to know he was okay.
Chapter 17
Aldric
Grandfatherdiedinhissleep after my fifth day in Greece. It was strange because I felt much more of a loss than expected. I mourned the loss of time we could have spent together.
I learned through my family that he kept tabs on my brother and me. They went on to show me the many newspaper clippings he’d kept of our success and even some of our failures. He’d always believed in losses as being the most crucial teaching experience.
I extended my stay because I wanted to attend the funeral. I felt it was the least I could do after missing so much of his life. Maybe I could even learn some more about him. That day before the funeral, a storm broke through the heat. It seemed as if even the world was mourning this great man’s loss.
He’d told me in the days I got to spend with him, he regretted pushing my mother away. He realized quickly that his pride hadn’t been worth losing his daughter. But she had never welcomed him back into her life; he had always understood that. Not that it stopped him from trying to reach out to her.
After eating a large lunch of pasta, seafood, and roast lamb, I now sat at the table to celebrate my grandfather’s life and send him off to a good afterlife, looking over stacks of photo albums. I was elbow-deep in a very old batch with pictures of my mother. I stared at her younger face, smiling brightly beside her father as he hugged her tight and handed her a plum from a nearby basket. The picture with her in it showed her stomach swelling and her face glowing with a mother’s pride.
Then there was me as a baby, and I smiled; even as a child, I had so much hair, it must have been a pain for them to care for. Next, I saw myself old enough to walk and frowned. Mom looked worn down; perhaps this was when she’d told my grandfather she didn’t intend to be with my father.
