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Marcos arranged a pile of comforters around an Isabella wrapped in a huge blanket. I was only able to know she was there because I heard her voice.I leaned against the doorframe, needing to swallow the despair that was already overflowing from me, finding an outlet through my mouth, through my nostrils, through my ears and pores.
As I normalized my breathing, I watched the scene closely and listened to every word they said.I heard Marcos saying that she shouldn’t be afraid of anything, because she’s a warrior and Isabella assuring that, yes, she is afraid of monsters!
Then I heard the reassurance that as long as I was around, Isabella didn’t need to be afraid of anything, because I would keep her safe no matter what.I also heard the pinky promise that didn’t have a pinky, and, finally, the farewell before the brave protector, Marcos, went in search of the greatest warrior of all time, me.
And as my eyes watched the scene unfold before them like a theater of absurdities, I also heard things that neither of them said, and which nevertheless seemed louder than a drum concert.In his clearly improvised gestures, I heard Marcos’s concern for Isabella’s well-being, I heard his anguish for her to really feel safe, I heard his anguish to, at the same time, do this and take me to her.
If it had taken him another ten seconds to turn around, or maybe if he hadn’t just screamed, scared himself, scared me, but also amusing me, he would possibly have found me with tears in my eyes. Wow, I know.
It weren’t his gestures that made my eyes burn, just like weeks ago, it wasn’t his presence that made me question, for the first time since Isabella was born, if I was robbing her of something by assuming more than the role of being her mother, also that of being her father.
It was this doubt that, after his appearance in that hospital, spent a few days staying in my heart, but soon after, it packed its bags, left and did not even send me regards, until today.
Until, precisely, the moment when I saw the effort that Marcos was making for my daughter and I wished with all my heart that she had someone other than me and Grazi willing to do this for her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.
I’m not a father, Antonella.He told me weeks ago.He really is not.But the way he’s been behaving towards Isabella since he met her has shattered the certainty I’ve always had that she didn’t need one.
“I was just about to wake you up... I know you sa—"
“Mommy?” The childish voice interrupts his explanation, and I see the cute roll move. I want to laugh.
“Hi, my love...” I walk into the room and reach the bed.As I sit on it, I can’t help but think that I definitely didn’t think it would be my first contact with the furniture.
“Mommy, there were monsters in my room,” she explains, as soon as my face appears in her field of vision. “I was going to your room, but Marcos saved me, mommy! He saved me from the monsters!” I smile and kiss her forehead.
“Okay…And what do you think about us protecting ourselves from the monsters in Mommy’s room?” Isabella frowns.
“But, Mommy, there’s an anti-monster fortress here!” I raise a single eyebrow and turn my face, looking at Marcos over my shoulder.He shrugs and raises his hands on something that isn’t exactly an apology.From the expression on his face, I understand aIt was the best I could do!
“My love, we can set up another fortress in my room...” I offer.
“But who’s going to protect Marcos’ room?” I look in his direction, even if his vision is impeded by a massive amount of fabric, and I sigh.
“There’s no problem... You guys can stay here, I’ll...I’ll go to another room” Marcos determines, and I’m ready to protest. God, this does not make sense.The man doesn’t have to leave his own bed because of a plethora of comforters, but Isabella is faster than me.
“No, Marcos!” she says loudly. “Come here, Marcos!” she calls, and he frowns, but approaches her.With that almost three feet of legs, in a few steps, he puts himself on the side of the bed. “Closer!” she asks, looking at me out of the corner of her eye and my eyebrows go up, what the hell?
Marcos brings his ear close to Bella’s lips and she whispers much louder than she believes she is.
“If you leave, she won’t be able to protect you from the monsters, Marcos. You have to stay.” The smile rises in the corner of my mouth and spreads across her at an absurd speed.I want to laugh, laugh out loud.Really loudly.But that changes when I notice the look that this concern takes from Marcos in the direction of Isabella.
There’s no amusement in it, and the pressure in my chest makes it more than clear that Marcos’s look at my daughter has knocked any humor out of me either, only emotion is left. Because he is looking at her with such affection that I swallow dry, taken by an immense gratitude that only those who have a child are able to understand.
He smiles, honestly and very, very beautifully.Marcos takes his hand to Isabella’s cheek, then kisses her forehead before answering.
“It’s okay, Bella...I’m going to build myself a fortress...”
“But what if they catch you before? No…” again, he looks at me with an eye, “you have to stay!” she whispers, and Marcos looks at me, clearly, asking for help.Our exchange of looks lasts an eternity of three seconds, and that’s where I decide.
“He will stay, Bella!” Surprise comes across his face, and Bella smiles, pleased. “Let’s do it like this, we put your fortress on one side, I lie down in the middle, and Marcos on the other side, so I protect you both...” My daughter silently agrees, and Marcos still takes a while to realize that I am serious.
“Marcos! Come here!” Isabella asks when I myself have settled down next to her in bed.Disconcerted, my husband turns around and lies completely hardened, belly up, behind me. “Turn off the light, Marcos...” Isabella’s childish voice sounds low.Despite all the adrenaline that I imagine the escape of the monsters has released in her little body, now that she already feels safe, sleep shows signs of pulling her.
Marcos obeys, and suddenly the three of us are in the dark.I keep one of my arms around Isabella’s head and, with the other, caress her face slowly.I quietly sing her favorite lullaby, reserved for nights just like this, and yet completely different from this.
Nights when my little girl woke up scared with a nightmare and clung to me like I was the only barrier between her and all the evil in the world, like today.Nights when I hugged her tight and sang to her, promising that it would always be like this, the two of us against the world until the end of time, completely different from now, that it takes her some time before she definitively surrenders to sleep, but finally gives in, not only taken care of by me, but trusting the word of a third person that she is safe.
Tonight, there was someone other than me fighting the world for Isabella, and I don’t have a clue what to make with that.I take one of my hands behind my body, grope Marcos’ arm, and when I find it, lightly squeeze it in silent thanks.
