“Because I know how much the place means to you, so you should have that option.”
I grunt. Not much of a choice. I have no doubt Mom would transfer all the food into Tupperware containers, lug it all down to the shop, and demand that’s where we’re all eating. Which would defeat the purpose of keeping the doors open. I wouldn’t get shit done.
I lean down and kiss her cheek, then step back from the car. “You already know my answer, Mom. Be safe driving home and have fun on your date.”
She gives me a cheeky grin. “Just making sure.”
I wait until she’s pulling away from the house before going back inside. Aria’s already halfway done with her food, half of which seems to be on her face, by the time I take my own seat.
“Good?” I inquire, picking up my fork.
“The best!” she answers around a mouthful.
I chuckle and dig in. My cooking isn’t bad, but mom’s is the shit. She’s had plenty of years to perfect it. Her own mother was big on food, and she passed that down to her daughter.
Once we’re finished, I load the dishwasher while Aria takes a bath. Hearing her giggles through the partially open door as she plays with her Barbies brings a smile to my face. I always enjoy the time I get to spend with her. I used to want kids when I was younger, but the older I get, the more I realize I don’t want to bring a child into the world I live in. Too much bad shit happens on a daily basis.
“You about done in there?” I yell after the dishes are finished.
“Yes!”
I grab Aria’s ice cream, a spoon, and put both down on the coffee table. Aria comes out minutes later in her long pink nightgown, hair dripping and soaking the material. I put our movie for the night into the DVD player, then take a seat. She hands me the towel and brush before turning and jumping on my lap. It’s always the same when she spends the night. She bathes, then I take care of her hair.
After I drape the towel over her head, I rub vigorously. Aria giggles and hums, making the sound come out distorted. I laugh at her childlike behavior. Once her hair’s as dry as I can get it, I run the brush through the tangles, starting at the ends and working my way up. The braid comes next, and I tie it off with the band wrapped around the brush.
“Thanks, Uncle Luca.”
She hops down from my lap, grabs her ice cream, and climbs back up beside me. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and get comfortable.
“Don’t forget the blanket. You know the ice cream will make you cold.”
She pulls the blanket off the end of the couch and starts arranging it around herself. My heart warms when she puts a section over my lap down to my knees.
“You gotta have some too.”
Even though I don’t need it, I let her do her thing. Aria is a very caring little girl, and there’s no way I would disturb that trait by telling her I’m fine without it.
I wait patiently until she’s finished and settled against my side before dropping my arm to her shoulders and tugging her closer to me. She opens her carton of ice cream and puts the lid on the blanket beside her.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Grabbing the remote off the arm of the couch, I press Play and settle in for a night of short orange people, bratty children, and rivers of chocolate.
CHAPTER SIX
Luca
I STEP OUT OF THE elevator and take the short walk to Jules’s room. It’s earlier than when I’ve been visiting, but I’m due on shift in a couple of hours, and I felt a sudden urge to see her after the dream I had last night. It ended with her screaming again, and it tore my insides to hear it.
I walk into the quiet room to find Jules partially on her right side, facing the door. Instead of her hair being in the normal braid, the thick mass is loose and resting on the pillow. Someone took the time to brush it.
My eyes scan the room as I walk over to the bed and take a seat on the chair sitting close by. Her nightgown is different than the last time I was here. She’s now in a soft peach-colored one with ruffles on the sleeves and lace across the collar.
Seeing the hand that doesn’t have the catheter lying close to her side, palm facing up, I lean forward and trace the inside of her fingers. Again, I’m met with a zing of awareness.
Lifting my eyes, I look at her closed ones.
“Hi, Jules,” I state softly, and watch for any signs she’s heard me. When there’s not even a twitch of her eyelashes, I continue. “I’m Luca. You don’t know me, but you’ve been coming to me in my dreams for years now, and I don’t know why.”