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“I…” What the hell was I supposed to say? I dragged myself in this shit, so now I had to find my way out. “Yes, I do. He’s a nice man.”
Her face was serious like she was a professional poker player on a Las Vegas weekend trip. I couldn’t read anything on her, but I kept my mouth shut, letting her process my information.
“Does he, umm, does he not like kids?”
Man, this was hard.
“No, no, it’s not that.” How could I explain everything to her? How could I tell a child that I’ve missed the first six years of her life because her mother ran away from me? I couldn’t. Trash talking Salvatrice was not the solution to the misery that was drowning me right now. “Did your mom tell you anything?”
“She said he couldn’t be here and I shouldn’t blame him, but Mama doesn’t wanna talk about it. It makes her sad.”
“Sweetheart, it’s not his fault. Adults sometimes…we do things that are hard to explain.”
“Then whose fault is it? Is it mine? I thought maybe he didn’t like kids. Some people don’t. Mr. Moriarty, the fisherman, doesn’t. He never wants to play with me.”
“Come here, baby girl.” I took her in my lap and kissed her forehead. “It’s definitely not your fault, ok? Your dad, he was…at work.” Kind of.
“So you really know him?”
“Yeah.” I said absently while kissing her head.
“Can you tell him I said hi?” She was breaking my fucking heart. “And that I’d like to see him someday? That’s why Mama and I speak English at home.”
“What?”
“At school it is Italian only, but I told Mama I like English too, so she would speak to me at home. I don’t want to forget it. This way, if I meet my dad, I can talk to him.”
I was stunned. She wanted me too. It wasn’t just me who was crazy to know her, to protect her at all costs. She wanted me in her life. God, this was getting harder and harder every minute, but I couldn’t just scream in her face that I was her dad. She was smart and sharp, but she was a child after all, and I’ve confused her enough for one day.
Salvatrice and I had to make things right. We owe it to this kid, and I owe it to both of us.
“Will it help if I promise to take you to America to meet him?”
She looked up and smiled.
“Really? Can you?”
“I swear to you.” Romina was too young to understand my words, but I only gave out one other oath my entire life: to Gino as my Don, and I made good on that oath every single day of my life. It was time I made good on my word to my daughter.
“That would be nice. Can you take me to Disneyland too? My friend Eliza went once when her mother worked there, and she says it is beautiful. I wanna see the Beast.”
“The Beast?”
“Belle’s boyfriend, from Beauty and the Beast. I want him to be my boyfriend too.” Oh, God.
“I’ll take you whenever you want to go, sweetheart.”
“Thank you. Am I being greedy? Mama said I should be happy with what we have because other people are not that fortunate.” This turned on an alarm in my head.
“Hey, Romina, did your mom ever have money problems?” Her business looked good now, but how was her life before? She was so young when she fled the country, pregnant and alone. I knew for a fact she didn’t come from money; she was living on a waitress salary when I met her, and she’d had no relatives, no one to rely on. I was her rock. I was supposed to take care of her, but she walked out. Raising a child couldn’t have been easy.
“I don’t know. We always have food and stuff, but she can’t pay for my ballet. Hey, you think I can see ballerinas when we get to America?”
“Of course! We'll go see the Nutcracker on Christmas. It’s Simona’s favorite.”
“Who is Simona? Is she your girlfriend?” What did she know about boyfriend and girlfriends?
“No, Simona’s not my girlfriend.”
