He’s in bed, and I’m in the rocking chair. I assume someone (hopefully his mother) used to rock him to sleep. I want to ask about Giulia Angelini, but I never summon enough courage to pry into Val’s private business, and I won’t ask Leo. What I don’t know can’t hurt them.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” I ask.
The boy smiles. “I said nothing.”
I tap my chin, trying to recall what he’d said. Ah, I know. “You said that the caterpillar story is better.”
“That was before I talked about Star Cruisers.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.” The clock reads 9:30. “It’s past your bedtime, Leo. You should sleep.” I can’t leave him until he’s asleep. Val never asked me to put him to bed, but three nights ago, Leo asked for me, and the first night I sat here, he made me promise I’d stay. So I stay till he falls asleep.
“I don’t want to sleep,” he says. “I’m staying awake.”
“Why?”
“Because my uncle is coming.”
My heart drums faster. “He’ll be here in the morning.”
Leo shakes his head. “That’s what he says to my aunt. But he comes at night, and we sit in his big office and eat ice cream from the container like grown-ups.”
The boy is intelligent and is becoming fluent in English within a week. He also speaks Italian and French. While his accent is thick, his fluency and extensive vocabulary are impressive.
“That sounds fun.”
Leo nods. “He likes vanilla.”
I clear my throat. “What kind of ice cream do you like?”
“Pistachio. You?”
“Chocolate. Rocky road.”
“Never had rocky road.”
“It’s a big one in the States. I’ll look for it at the store. Would you like that?”
Leo answers by nodding.
For the next hour, we don’t speak, and Leo’s breathing evens out, his eyes closing. He’s sleepy now, and I feel bad. He’s so small and tired, and he’s not going to make it through the next hour when he was looking forward to his uncle’s return and the ice cream he’ll eat with him in the middle of the night.
It doesn’t sound like something a calculating man like Alessio would do, but I’ve seen the playful side of him, and let me tell you, it’s as comforting as it is addictive.
If he hadn’t restrained me, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off him for over six hours straight. Maybe that’s why he restrained me. Did I mention Alessio’s stamina? Better not to think about it.
Leo’s eyelids close.
I rise from the rocking chair and turn off the lamp, then head outside, open the door, and scream at the top of my lungs. I skid back and away from the man at the door who scared the crap out of me. I keep my hand pressed over my heart so it doesn’t jump out.
“Oh my God,” I whisper-hiss.
“Uncle!” Leo’s scream is second in volume only to mine as he springs out of bed and rushes at Alessio, who picks him up immediately and kisses him on the cheeks.
The boy clings to him like a little monkey, even lays a cheek on Alessio’s shoulder. Kids do this all the time. But boys his age? Not so much. My heart breaks for this kid who lost his mother and obviously has no father around. My heart also breaks for my little brother, who’s got no parents to raise him. I want to go home to my little brother and hold him the way Alessio holds Leo.
Other than a brief nod at me, Alessio says nothing, but turns on his polished leather shoe and leaves. Even though it’s dark in Leo’s room, and he couldn’t see my face clearly, the fact he didn’t recognize me stings a bit. But it also means he might not recognize me tomorrow, or even for days after tomorrow, and I could just go on about my spying in his house without him getting suspicious.
Fat chance of that.
