“Can we see your friend again?”
“What friend?” I asked.
“The man with the bump on his head.”
I ran my fingers through my son’s hair and opened my arms for him.
“Come here,” I said.
Matteo scurried into my arms, and I rocked him in my grasp.
“Did you like him?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s funny.”
“He is, huh? What else did you like about him?”
“He knows you. That’s cool.”
“It’s cool that he knows me?” I asked.
“Yeah. You don’t have friends. It’s nice that you do now.”
“I do too have friends,” I said.
“Can we go home soon?”
I placed a kiss on the top of my son’s head and sighed.
“Do you not want the city to be your home?”
“Not with Uncle,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because he’s mean.”
I furrowed my brow and looked down into my son’s eyes.
“What do you mean, ‘h
e’s mean’?” I asked.
He shrugged, but I wasn’t letting this issue pass.
“Did Uncle Stefano do something to you?”
“No.”
“Did he say something to you?”
“No.”
“Then how is he mean, honey?”
“On the phone,” Matteo said. “He’s mean on the phone.”
“What did you hear, sweetheart?” I asked.