44
GAbrIELA DUARTE
The DNA test put an old truth into a new document.
That afternoon, I gathered Camila, Noah, and Heitor on the living room rug. They already knew Luca was their biological father and that he hadn’t believed me. Still, the psychologist had recommended explaining what the confirmation meant without treating the report as a solution to everything.
Cris stayed because all three asked him to. Noah brought the dinosaur. Heitor came with two toy cars. Camila held the heart-shaped cushion to her chest. I switched off my phone and sat on the floor.
“Camila’s care stays the same, and no one is moving house. Today we’re talking about the cotton-swab test.”
“We didn’t make a mess,” Heitor said, looking at Cris. He smiled. I pulled a cushion closer.
“I know. Remember going to the lab?”
“There wasn’t a dinosaur,” Heitor lamented.
“The test confirmed that Luca is your father.”
“We already knew,” Camila said.
“Now it’s confirmed it for him too. The lawyers will take care of the papers.”
Heitor looked at my belly.
“Did we really fit in there?”
“All together?” Camila added.
“All together.”
“Squished,” Camila concluded.
I smiled despite the knot in my throat.
“Very.”
Heitor took a sheet from his backpack.
“I’ll draw him too.”
He made a large circle beside the figures already on the page. Noah leaned over to look.
“He’s taller.”
“I know.”
Heitor lengthened the figure’s legs to the edge of the paper. Camila picked up the yellow pencil. Heitor said that part of the hair would stay uncolored, white like the paper.
“How do you write Luca?” he asked.
I wrote the name in a corner. He copied the L, gave up on the rest, and returned to the hair.
Noah touched my arm.
“Will he go away?”
“Today he’s at the hotel.”
“After.”
I wished I could promise he wouldn’t. I moved the backpack so Noah could sit closer.
“We’ll ask when we see him. I’m staying here with you.”
Camila raised her hand as she did at school.
“Does he know my heart is different?”
“Yes.”
“Was he scared?”
I remembered his face in the corridor.
“I think so.”
“Then he can hold my hand at the hospital.”
“I hold your hand,” Noah protested.
“You squeeze too hard.”
Heitor drove a car up to my knee.
“Can he play soccer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can he make pancakes?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You don’t know much about him.”
I looked at Cris. His eyes held tenderness and sadness.
“It’s been a long time since I saw Luca. You can ask him.”
“Is Uncle Cris still our uncle?” Camila asked.
Cris slid off the armchair at once.
“Forever, little bird.”
“Even if we have a dad now?”
“I’m still Uncle Cris. I’ll pick you up, make coffee, and complain when you leave toy cars in the way.”
“I only left one,” Heitor protested.
Cris pulled a red car from behind the cushion.
“This one?”
Heitor snatched it. Camila started laughing.
“Mine’s in your pocket,” Noah said.
Cris searched his coat pocket and found another. Even Noah smiled.
“Are we going to see Luca?” Heitor asked.
“Tomorrow, for a little while. Cris and I will stay close. Dr. Marina will be in the garden too, but she won’t make anyone talk.”
“Can I ask why he didn’t want us?” Noah asked.
The pencil stopped in my hand. I set it down before answering.
“Yes.”
“What if I don’t like the answer?”
“Call me. I’ll be close.”
“What if I like him?” Heitor asked, almost guiltily.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. I won’t be upset with you.”
Camila let go of the cushion.
“I want to know if he’s scared of needles.”
“Then ask.”
The next morning, we reached the institute’s garden five minutes early. Luca was already there. Marina met us at the gate and walked with us to the benches. She sat near Cris while I approached with the children.
Luca wore dark pants and a light shirt, no jacket or tie. He stood when he saw us, then seemed unsure what to do with his hands. Heitor ran two steps and stopped in front of him.
“Are you our dad?”
He crouched.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure now?”
The child’s question held an unintentional cruelty. I watched Luca take the blow.
“I am.”
Noah squeezed my hand before speaking.
“Why didn’t you want us?”
Luca looked up at me for a moment, then turned to Noah.
“I believed something that was wrong,” he answered. “I didn’t listen when your mother told me. She told the truth, and I treated her badly. You didn’t do anything to make that happen.”
“You called Mommy a liar?”
“I did.”
“She doesn’t lie.”
“I know that now.”
“I don’t like you.”
Luca held his gaze.
“You don’t have to.”
Noah stepped back against my knee.
“I don’t want a hug.”
“That’s all right.”
He pressed a little closer to me but kept looking at Luca. Heitor touched the pale streak in Luca’s hair, then his own.
“We match.”
“We do,” Luca said, his voice breaking.
Camila approached last.
“Are you scared of hospitals?”
“I’m scared of some things that happen in hospitals.”
She offered her small hand.
“You can hold it, but don’t squeeze.”
He looked at her hand and took it gently. I turned away for a moment. Five years earlier, I’d imagined that scene. Now Camila already knew to ask people not to squeeze her fingers.
They asked about his age, the country he lived in, snow. Heitor wanted to know whether he had a plane. Luca answered without promising rides. Camila kept holding his hand; Noah sat on the bench beside me. When Heitor asked whether he lived alone, I held my breath.
“I do.”
“Do you want to marry Mommy?” Camila asked.
He took a moment to answer.
“Your mother and I aren’t together. I came to get to know you today.”
Heitor asked whether he had to brush his teeth even on the plane. Camila wanted to know whether Italy had birds like Brazil’s. Noah took a little stone he’d found on the way from his pocket and turned it between his fingers.
“That’s a smooth one,” Luca said, looking at it.
Noah closed his hand. I waited for him to speak, but he only put it back in his pocket. Luca didn’t press. He listened to Heitor explain that his sister wouldn’t let anyone put banana in her pancakes.
When I said our time was up, Camila let go of Luca’s hand.
“Will you come back tomorrow?”
He looked at me.
“I want to come back. We need to arrange the day.”
“We’ll check our schedules after the appointment,” I said.
Noah waited for his brother and sister to move away. Then he turned to Luca.
“Will you make her sad again?”
Luca went still. Before he could answer, I moved to Noah and held out my hand.
“The conversations between us are for the grown-ups, sweetheart. Come with me.”
He took my hand. Luca stood and stayed beside the bench as we left. In the car, I waited for the children to settle.
“Would you like to do that again?”
Camila and Heitor said yes. Noah said he didn’t know and asked for water.
I gave him the bottle. I didn’t ask for another answer.