Chapter 6 #2
His face is so intense, eyebrows down, mouth serious, like, listen, woman, pay attention, this is the good stuff.
Valentina is nodding like she's at an art gallery. "Wow. Wow. Incredible," she's saying. "So this one is Daddy? I love the hair."
Last night he drew a car, and he was so proud we had to take a picture and call half the family on video just to see it.
One by one, grandparents, uncles, cousins, Marco, all stared at this very square car like it's the Mona Lisa.
Now he's doing the same thing with Valentina, absolutely sure she understands the importance. "Dada, look," Antonio says before he even says hi.
"Hi to you too, baby," I laugh, turning around in my seat. "Let me breathe one second."
I glance at Valentina. "Did he make you cry with all that 'look at my art' energy, or was he chill?"
"Oh, he was perfect," she says. "This man is gonna be a big name. The way he talks about his drawings and bikes? Yeah. It's obvious."
Rava laughs softly next to him.
"Speaking of bikes," Valentina says. "How did it go? You guys fix it?"
"Yeah," I nod. "We signed everything. They'll send our stuff back sometime this week." Rava puts his hands on the back of my seat and leans forward until his face is basically in mine.
"See?" he says, grinning. "I fixed it."
I nod once, slow. "You learned your lesson, though?"
He crosses his arms like a scolded teenager and drops back into his seat. "Yes. I'm never opening doors again unless it's you or our people. With ID."
"And?" I ask.
He groans. "And I'm never believing someone who says you borrowed books because you literally don't read."
"Exactly," I say, proud.
"Daddy reads," Antonio pipes up.
I turn to look at him. "What?"
"Stories," he says. I nod, smug. "That's true.
He's right. I am excellent at reading bedtime stories.
Sometimes I even change the plot myself if I don't like it and make it ten times better.
" I shrug. "Sometimes I'm actually invested, too.
Like, hell yeah, I do want to know if the little bear went to the goat's birthday party after they fought. I need closure."
"God," I add. "Maybe I should rethink my career path." Valentina snorts so hard she goes red. "Stop," she wheezes.
"Hey," I say, side-eyeing her. "Don't strain yourself—"
"For the love of God, Gio," she cuts in. "I'm fine. The baby is not a feather or glitter that disappears if I laugh too hard. Chill. We're good."
"The bear fought with... the goat?" Rava asks, horrified.
"I don't know why," I say. "I'm guessing the bear tried to eat the goat's grandpa or something. I'll find out tonight."
"You're so gangster," Valentina mutters, wiping tears of laughter. Antonio lets out a little giggle. I start the engine, check the mirror, and pull out of the parking spot.
…
We get to the clinic and I scoop Antonio up before we go up the stairs.
"Are you ready?" Rava asks behind me. "No," I say.
"I'm not asking you, I'm asking Valentina," he says. "You're not pregnant."
"How do you know?" I ask, and we both laugh.
We walk in. The place smells clean. Too clean. We're the only noise. "Antonio," I whisper, shifting him on my hip. "People here really like quiet, okay? So we're gonna be quiet too. We won't cry here. We'll cry later when we're alone."
He nods. "No cry, Daddy."
"That's my boy," I say. Rava leans in and whispers, "Tell that to yourself, not Antonio."
"At least I can cry without waking up the entire building," I mumble back.
The nurse opens the door. "Vitale?"
"That's me," Valentina says. "And the Fontana family, of course," the woman adds, laughing as she tickles Antonio's hand. "Look at you, how big you are now. Feels like yesterday we were looking at you on the screen, tiny."
Antonio stares at her, confused, chewing on my jacket. Perfect.
We sit down on the side of the room, giving Valentina space on the bed. The doctor turns to her as she preps the machine. "So, how are we doing?" she asks.
Valentina sighs. "Well, aside from the little kicks she keeps throwing at me, I'd say good. Everything's fine."
"No strange pains, bleeding, anything worrying?" the doctor asks. "God, no," Valentina says. "If I had, these two would have felt it before I did and dragged me here themselves. Don't worry."
The doctor nods. "Responsibility. I like that."
She glances at Rava as she gets the gel and probe ready. "You're the teacher, right?"
Rava smiles. "Yeah, that's me."
"My daughter goes to your school," the doctor says. "She has a teacher named Floriano. Is he good?"
I side-eye Rava so fast, because I remember very clearly all the times he came home ranting about how unprofessional Floriano is and how he shouldn't even be in a classroom.
"There are... better ones," Rava says carefully. "Won't lie. Good luck to your daughter. I'll try to rescue her next year."
The doctor's face lights up. "Thank God," she says, actually relieved, and we all burst out laughing. "Alright, let's see," the doctor says, and we all shut up immediately. We're staring at the screen like idiots.
"There she is!" she says, and we all lean in closer at the same time. Now I see her. Rava covers his mouth with his hand, and his eyes already start shining, even though he was making fun of me five minutes ago.
My soft little idiot. I pull him closer, laughing, wrapping an arm around him and wiping the tear that just slid down his cheek. "Is that her little nose?" he asks, trying so hard not to actually sob.
"Yes," the doctor smiles. "That is in fact her tiny nose. Here you can see the little hands, the whole side profile, the legs."
"They're so small," Rava says, voice cracked, and I kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair, still holding Antonio on my other side.
I don't want him feeling left out in moments like this.
I take his little hand and guide it, pointing toward the screen.
"Right there, that's your little sister," I tell him.
"When she gets bigger, you're gonna take her for rides on your bike.
And you're gonna watch out so nobody bothers her, okay? "
Antonio nods, serious. I look back up at the screen. "Clearly she got your side profile," I tease Rava, and everyone laughs. "I don't see anything unusual," the doctor says. "A lot of people have issues with limb development, but everything looks fine to me. She's developing normally."
"If I swear right now, will she hear me?" I ask.
Valentina laughs. "Yeah, she'll start kicking violently and storm out of the room." Rava laughs too, still wiping his eyes.
I hope she gets his eyes. Please, let her get his eyes. Shape, color, everything. Actually, that's gonna be a disaster. I won't be able to say no to her.
Putting her in time-out is gonna be the hardest thing I've ever done. I won't be able to lecture her, because the second she looks at me, I'll just see Rava and want to hug her instead.
Good luck to me, honestly.
27) RAVA
Gio
We drop Valentina off at her place and then it's just the three of us in the car. At some point Rava and I really need to go look at new houses, because even though the idiots are in prison now, I don't want to go back.
I don't want to put them back in that house after what Rava went through. And I know myself, everywhere I look, whatever I touch, I'll be thinking, someone disgusting had their hands on this. No thanks.
Maybe we move near Noah and Marco. That area is stupidly chill. Quiet, safe, boring in the best way. Plus, it's closer to Rava's school, so he'll get there even faster.
I glance in the mirror. "Antonio," I say, turning the wheel a little as we stop at a light. "What do you want to do now?" He's in the backseat playing with his car again, obviously.
"Swings," he says.
"Swings?" I repeat.
He nods, still driving the toy across his knees. Rava lights up immediately. "Gio," he says, soft but excited. "We have to go to the swings."
I groan. "What, you wanna make me cry in front of the baby now?"
He laughs. "I already did it. You have to do it too."
"Those swings already hold half my tears," I mutter. "How many more can they take?"
"They hold a lot of mine too, if that makes you feel better," Rava says. "They're used to it." I snort, and before I can overthink it, I start the car and turn toward those swings.
The swings where I told him I loved him.
God. I can't believe it's been years since that day. It still feels like yesterday. Me falling apart in front of him, him holding me together, picking up all my pieces.
And now we're going back there with our son in the backseat. Same place, same two idiots, plus one tiny human. If those swings could talk, they'd probably roast the shit out of us.
Would probably cuss us out for how long it took us to get our shit together, honestly. I turn and park outside the playground. No one's here, obviously.
Who else is insane enough to come to the swings in this kind of cold? Just us.
We walk toward the gate with Antonio in the middle, his little hands in ours. He's the one dragging us forward, swinging our arms up and down like we're the kids.
That's 100% from Rava. He does that all the time.
I swear, from the first time we held hands that night at the beach party with Jasper, and the day we met Marco, every single time, at some point, he starts doing that thing.
Back and forth, back and forth. It's like he can't help it. His body just goes, we're holding hands, I must swing them now. And now Antonio does the same thing.
I look over at Rava. He looks stupidly proud. We step into the playground. Christ. It's actually scary how many memories I have in this one place. How many feelings these little bridges and slides and swings are holding for us.
We go sit exactly where we sat back then. Side by side on the same wooden beam. Except now, instead of beer bottles between us, we have Antonio's little water bottle.