Dr. Hale nods as if in understanding. “Then let’s build in some small moments. Five minutes a day that’s just for you. Can you do that?”
I think about my glorified closet room. Ben’s nightmares. Marco’s silence.
“I can try.”
“Good. That’s all I’m asking.” She glances at the time. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow. And Jess? You’re doing better than you think.”
Am I though?
Because from where I’m sitting it feels like I’m one step away from a complete breakdown.
But I nod anyway. Smile. Thank her.
After the session ends, I fetch Ben and set her to organizing stickers into color-coded piles.
Halfway through that, my phone rings. Unknown number.
I almost don’t answer.
Finally I pick up: “Hello?”
“Jessica.” Livia Caldarelli’s voice is ice. “We need to talk about the holidays.”
Oh good. Because what this situation really needs is more pressure.
“Of course,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.
“Enzo and I would like Benedetta for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Full days.”
“I think that sounds lovely,” I tell her. Because what else am I supposed to say? “I’m sure Marco will want to coordinate with you directly.”
“Oh don’t you worry, I’m calling him next,” Livia says. “If he even answers, that is. He hasn’t been taking our calls.”
“Oh.” Well that’s not good. “Okay, I’ll be sure to let him know you called.”
“Thank you.” She pauses. “You know, last time we visited, when you were kind enough to give us privacy with Marco, I tried to talk to him in the kitchen. But he just stood there staring at Isotta’s mixing bowl for the whole twenty minutes. Couldn’t even speak to me.”
Well, at least he comes out of his room for you...
Her voice cracks slightly as she continues: “I know he’s grieving again, but Benedetta needs her father present, not frozen in the past.”
“I understand,” I tell her quietly.
“I knew you would. You care about them both. I can see that.” The warmth in her voice feelsgenuine. Almost. “We’ll be in touch about the holiday arrangements. Take care, Jessica.”
She hangs up.
I stand there holding my phone like an idiot.
Has Livia finally accepted me? Not quite.
Still, she was being... honest. Worried about her son-in-law. Concerned about her granddaughter.
And she’d just handed me a small tidbit of information I needed.
Marco is stuck. Literally frozen in front of a ceramic bowl while his daughter needs him and his in-laws can’t reach him and I’m sleeping in the same house wondering if I even have the right to intervene.
I probably don’t.
