Chapter 5
Pietra whistled as I closed the door.
“Wow! You have a great place here, girl,” she said, leaving her purse on the sofa, still looking around, awestruck. I was instantly proud.
“A gift from Dad to Lucca.”
“Is it wrong to be jealous of him?”
I smiled at her enchanted expression when she set her eyes on Lucca in the playpen, where I’d left him so I could make dinner and keep an eye on him.
“Oh, my sweet heaven! What delicious little thing of Auntie’s is this? Did I die and go to heaven? It can’t be the same little boy from months ago, can it?” She fell in love all silly, going to him, her gaze finding me over her shoulder. “Can I?”
“Go ahead.”
“Hi, big boy. It’s Auntie Pietra. Yes, your amazing aunt…”
I turned to the kitchen to check the lasagna in the oven.
Pietra approached the counter with Lucca in her arms. “My God, amada, he is too beautiful! And he’s grown so much! He doesn’t even look like the same little boy from Malibu.”
“Because he isn’t. Lucca turns eight months next week.”
“You know what I mean,” she scolded, with Lucca’s little hand in her mouth. She pretended to eat it, making a funny face, and he laughed, complete with a squeal.
“He grew fast.”
“Fast? A few more months and this little guy would be a grown man, full of girlfriends. Thank God I’m here, otherwise I wouldn’t recognize him.”
I released a bright laugh.
“Dramatic!” I closed the oven. “I made lasagna Bolognese.”
“Delicious.”
“Five more minutes and we can eat.”
“No problem.”
“Want a tour?”
I took her through my home, proudly showing every little piece of it. Pietra didn’t question the fact that Lucca’s crib was in my room and not in the empty room I used as an office. Though the apartment was upper-middle-class, I had kept its simplicity within what fit my budget.
Lucca was laughing at his aunt’s clowning when we returned.
“Lucky little face! Your little dick hasn’t even grown, and nonno Rocco already gave you a love nest to bring your girlfriends to, huh?”
I grimaced.
Dick, girlfriends, and love nest should not be in the same sentence with my baby’s name. I shoved the thought into oblivion.
I took the lasagna out of the oven and took it to the already-set table.
Pietra handed me Lucca before sitting. My boy watched, hypnotized while she served me a generous piece, then herself. Lucca already ate solids and refused nothing that was offered… or not. I held his fat little hand when he tried to grab the lasagna from the plate. He screamed, impatient.
“No, Lucca. Wait and Mommy will give you some.”
“Greedy like his dad, huh?”
“I’m not drinking alcohol, but if you want, there’s wine in the fridge,” I offered, smiling, pouring myself juice. “I bought it yesterday on my way back from work.”
“Thanks. For now, I’d rather join you in juice.”
That made me wonder if later I might not make an exception for a glass.
“Martha didn’t want to come?”
“She didn’t think it would be in good taste to appear without being invited.”
“She doesn’t need to be invited.”
“I told her that, but you know how mamma is.”
We had a calm dinner, talking trivialities while I took some forkfuls for myself and little bits of ground meat for Lucca.
Individualism ends when we become mothers and have to eat with them, shower with them, read and watch television with them. There were few things I did without Lucca being involved.
P chattered about her impressions of Milan nightlife. I listened, not weighing in much, sometimes surprised. I’d had no social life since returning. My social interaction extended to the company, my family, and the parks with Lucca.
My life was his, with him and for him.
And incredibly enough, I didn’t miss the parties. The most excitement I could handle was an episode of Grey’s Anatomy before collapsing from exhaustion.
Peace, that I missed.
“Leave that there, Pietra. I’ll wash it later.”
She stared at me, balancing the plates in her hands.
“Like hell… What? He doesn’t understand yet.”
“They learn fast, Pietra. Lucca will soon be one. I don’t want my son’s first word to be a swear word.” I put Lucca to my breast. “Just try to avoid it.”
“Yes, Mommy,” she grumbled, bored.
“Your auntie has a dirty mouth.”
Pietra leaned in. “Your mommy does too. Don’t let that angelic facade fool you. It’s the devil’s disguise,” she whispered, and I slapped her arm.
“Clown.”
“See what Auntie said?” She straightened. “Finish nursing your baby dinosaur. I didn’t come to give you work. You made dinner. The least I can do is wash up.”
I didn’t protest. Lucca was still glued to my breast. I switched sides, and he quickly took the nipple, blinked at me, then closed his eyes.
My little lion took his time. He nursed a little, rested a while, then nursed again, never letting go of the breast until he was completely satisfied.
And God help me if I took him off before then.
He was sweet, but he didn’t play around with food.
At first, I could afford the luxury of watching him hold my breast and lose myself in that bubble.
But then life happens and everything changes.
I quickly learned that being a mother goes beyond having a baby.
It’s caring for your child and still doing a thousand things at the same time.
P laughed, sitting on the other sofa.
“This is so… strange.”
“What?”
She gestured with her head. “This is a beautiful scene. But I confess seeing you like this, all mother and responsible adult, makes it feel like we jumped years. I never thought I’d see you with a baby attached to your breast so soon.
I mean,” she paused and made a face. “Sorry. That still came out wrong, didn’t it? ”
“Me neither, if it’s any comfort… It isn’t easy. Lucca takes up a good part of my time, and I mean exactly that. Today is a calm day, even.”
She made a theatrical gesture and drank a sip of wine.
“Holy God, just hearing you has me tired.”
I laughed. “In the beginning, it was a struggle. There were days I only managed a sponge bath, not to mention the times I had to rush out with my hair full of shampoo to check on Lucca. I spent practically the whole day with messy hair and in pajamas. Eating and sleeping when he let me. I haven’t watched an adult program since then, at least not like before.
It’s always his music, his cartoons, you know, to distract him so I can feel human and get the sour smell of his spit-up off me. ”
“I’m happy for you, Ella.”
“I know, Pietra.”
“So how are things now?”
P and I talked on the phone. But we always kept our conversations on safe ground, never wandering near the deep waters.
I held Lucca’s little foot, my thumb making light pressure on the soft sole the way he liked. His little feet were the most beautiful and softest in the world.
“See my wrinkles? I’ve been working hard for them. I try to keep a routine. Lucca needs it, and so do I. So we go slowly. One day at a time.”
“You’re different. More serene, fuller. Not fat, just…”
“With more meat,” I completed with a little laugh. “I also have a slight tummy.”
“Shut up!”
I pinched the extra softness on my belly. “It loves me too much to leave me,” I lamented with a little pout.
“It’s not even that much. You’ll lose it soon.”
“May the angels hear you, girl! May the angels hear you!”
“You were always good at losing weight.”
“Trust me, there is a before and after this little guy here.”
Lucca let go of my breast, finally satisfied and already dead asleep.
“Give me a minute, please.”
I took my sleepy boy to the bedroom and settled him in the crib, stepping back to the living room on tiptoe. I felt victorious for that accomplishment.
“You have a beautiful place here,” P said.
I pulled my legs up onto the sofa.
“Yeah.”
“Your parents are okay with it?”
“If it were up to mamma, we’d be living under her wings.”
“I can’t imagine how Aunt Selena accepted you living out of her sight. She doesn’t have Italian blood running through her veins, but her soul definitely does.”
“There was nothing to accept. It was my decision.”
“I can understand why. And Rocco?”
“Papà didn’t object… Yeah, I know. I was shocked too. It’s not like him, at least not the Rocco I know… He’s really trying, Pietra. I think I should try too when he’s making such an effort to respect my decisions.”
“Fair.”
“This”—I gestured around—“was the way they found to help me without me refusing and without them disrespecting me. I confess that at first, I didn’t want it.
There was this desire in me, maybe a good amount of pride, to want to do everything myself.
But when you’re broke and have a small child, pride becomes a luxury item.
I had to be practical, especially for Lucca. ”
She looked around, her forehead wrinkled.
“It’s very clean.”
“And enough for the two of us. Little by little, I’ll decorate it the way I want… They gave me a foundation. It was all I needed to start with dignity.”
She shook her head, finished her glass, and offered me some. I accepted, taking a little for myself. I drank a sip and wrapped my fingers around the crystal.
“So you’re working at Vicenti, huh?”
“It’s funny, isn’t it, me being there?”
“I don’t know if funny is the word, but unexpected, definitely.”
“I’m an intern in the creative department.
I go in at nine and leave at three. Papà said I have to start from the bottom, gaining experience, you know?
It was very hard in the first few weeks,” I paused, laughing.
“Well, it’s still hard to leave Lucca. But I need to do this for both of us, for me especially.
I like what I do, my position there, the people, the flow of the agency.
It’s the only moment that, incredibly enough, is entirely mine. ”
“There, you’re all professional, a business girl.”
“Yeah.”
“But then, tell me, how did it happen?”
“The same way this happened.” I moved my hand around. “When mamma and papà brought me here and said the apartment was mine and Lucca’s, I didn’t want to accept. Look at it. I don’t have the money to pay for this.”
“But your parents…?”