She shrugged.“I don’t know.How do you move a donkey?”
For some reason, that question made a big laugh bubble up from my chest, and I had to spin around to hide my face in case Tom lifted his gaze to us.
I could barely hear it over the frenziedhee-haws, quacks, and goose honks, but I’m pretty sure Tom was swearing in Italian at the donkey as he drove his shoulder into the animal’s side in an attempt to get him to budge.
“We should help him,” I finally said, not sure exactlywhatI would do to help, but knowing I couldn’t just stand there.I touched Sam’s elbow to encourage her to follow, and we made our way around the pond to where Tom was grunting and definitely swearing in Italian at the amused donkey.“How can we help?”I asked.
“Run … to my house,” he said, slightly out of breath and not bothering to look up at us.“Go … into the fridge.Get carrots.He will do anything for carrots.”
“You hear that?”I said to Sam.
Worry flickered in her eyes for a second.Understandably, she didn’t feel comfortable going into a stranger’s house, but something wonderful came over her, and she nodded, then took off running.We’d only been here a little under an hour and already this place was helping my daughter in ways I never could have imagined.
Piñata stomped his hoof several times, sending dirty pond water splashing up Tom’s jeans and soaking the front of his white T-shirt.It was impossible not to notice the definition of his torso when the thin fabric clung to it like a second skin.“Asino stupido,” he muttered, giving the animal one final shove before shaking his head and stepping out of the pond.
“Is this the first time he’s done this?”I asked.
Tom shook his head.“No.It’s been a while since he has though.He is a terror.”
Sam appeared with several carrots in her hands as she ran across the driveway toward us.She ducked through the fence, only slightly out of breath.Then, with her golden curls falling around her shoulders and a big smile on her face with her eyes bright, came to stand before us.“Here,” she said.
Like he could smell them, Piñata turned his head toward us and the carrots.
“That’s right, youtestone.You want this?You need to get out of the pond and stop pissing off the ducks.”Tom waggled the carrots so the donkey could see, and Piñata turned around in the pond and sloshed his way out, his stretchy lips moving and showing off his enormous teeth as he tried to snag the dangled carrot.But Tom kept moving backward, his shoes squelching with each step across the grass as he led Piñata away from the pond.
Once they were around the corner—Sam and I following in fascination—Tom gave Piñata one carrot.
He shook his head.“I feel like I am rewarding bad behavior.I didn’t give my son candy when he cut up a pair of my jeans to make his friend a skirt.He was disciplined.Why am I rewarding this … thisidiota?”
Right!Tommaso had a son.Cameron did mention that.Where was he?How old was he?
Sam giggled.God, I loved that sound.
“There’ll never be a dull moment when you’re here, I’m sure,” I murmured to my kid.
Tom led Piñata further away from the pond, and transfixed by all of it, Sam and I just followed until the carrots were done and the donkey seemed to forget all about traumatizing the waterfowl.Then he took off to go bother the horses at the far end of the field.
Muttering more Italian curse words under his breath—which I will admit I found rather sexy—Tom brushed his hands on his wet jeans and took in his soaked clothes.He didn’t seem overly put out about any of it though and actually smirked a little when he reached us.
“So, uh … we should probably leave you to get changed and stuff, hmm?”I asked, unable to peel my eyes from the ridges of his torso and the way the wet white T-shirt had turned translucent as it clung to him.
“Hmm?Oh … uh,si.”
Did Sam just whimper beside me?I looked over at my ten-year-old, and she did indeed look disappointed to be leaving.
“When should I bring Sam back to start … working with the animals?What exactly will she be doing?”
He seemed distracted.Red flushed his cheeks beneath the salt-and-pepper scruff, and he refused to look at me.“Um …” Stroking his chin and facial hair, he glanced around the field.“Uh … tomorrow.After school.Scusi.I must go.”Then he took off out of the field toward his house, Portia hot on his heels.
Sam and I just stood there, watching him walk away from us.He climbed the porch steps, yanked open the door, and disappeared inside.
What was that all about?
“D-did I do something wrong?”Sam asked, a slight quaver in her voice.
I shook my head and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, leading her toward the gate.“I don’t think so.That was peculiar though, wasn’t it?”
She nodded and stepped through the gate first while I made sure it was secure behind me then we climbed into the RAV—me in the front, her in the back—and with one final glance at Tom’s house, I did the same U-turn as I did yesterday and headed back up to the main road.
