“Paolo!” his mother chastised as she and Elio pushed through the gate to join us. Biscotti was on their heels, and as soon as he made it past them, he jumped into the pool, too. “Chiedi scusa!”
Paolo wiped the water out of his eyes, feet kicking wildly to keep himself afloat while he held onto the tube for dear life. “Sorry,” he said, a bit nasally from the water, but his smile was cute enough for me to forgive anything the kid did.
“No worries, buddy. We were already wet, anyway,” Liam said, laughing when Biscotti swam right up to him and licked his face before swimming away again. “You’re a good swimmer.”
“His nonno taught him,” Elio said.
“I have to have i braccioli, though,” Paolo added, patting the blue floaty.
“I bet you could swim without it,” Liam countered, but Paolo quickly shook his head. “Want me to teach you how to float on your back?”
Paolo lit up at that, vigorously nodding his head and abandoning the floaty to reach for Liam, instead. I chuckled, deciding to clear the water so they had room for the lesson.
I padded over to my chair dripping wet, grabbing my towel to scrunch my hair a bit before I sat down under the umbrella next to Elio and Antonella. We all watched Liam in the pool with their son, laughing as they splashed around. Liam was attempting to show him how to backstroke.
“Doesn’t it just make your stomach hurt?” Antonella asked me as she watched Liam with Paolo.
I frowned. “Um…”
She glanced at me before laughing a little, waving her hands. “Oh, what I mean is… in a good way, a romantic way.” She made a clicking sound with her tongue as she struggled to explain it. “Like you can picture him as father.”
My smile slid off my face, and when I looked back at Liam, I swallowed hard. Because I could picture it.
And it did make my stomach hurt.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Antonella chuckled, reaching down to pet Biscotti where he was drying off in the sun at her feet. “I remember the first time I saw Elio with his nephew. I swore I would never have children,” she said, making an X with her arms. “But then I see them together, Elio tossing this little blond-haired boy into the air and catching him. He was giggling and looking at Elio like a… a…” She snapped her fingers a few times in search of the word. “Superhero.”
Elio smirked at her, leaning over to kiss her cheek before he went back to reading the newspaper he’d brought out with him.
I watched as Liam held Paolo up and talked him through how to fill his body with air to float. Every now and then he’d try to remove his hands and Paolo would panic, clinging to him, until Liam convinced him to try again. And then after a dozen times or so, he removed his hands and Paolo was floating.
He floated for a bit before realizing Liam’s hands were gone, and then he sank down into the water before bursting out again, both fists in the air.
“I did it! Hai visto, Mamma?!”
“I did see, paperotto. Bravo!”
Liam high-fived Paolo before his eyes found mine, and when he smiled, it was so bright, so young and free that it made my chest hurt along with my stomach.
We watched them have a few more lessons before Antonella called Paolo out to eat some cheese and grapes and drink some water — and so she could put more sunscreen on him. Liam dried off his hair a bit before hanging his towel over his shoulders and sitting next to me so we could snack, too.
“What’s wrong with your hand?”
Every single adult at the table stopped breathing at the question, wide eyes snapping over to Paolo. He stopped chewing, looking at his parents like he knew he’d said something wrong and was in trouble for it.
“It’s okay,” I assured them with a smile before I turned to Paolo. “I was born like this,” I explained, and though my throat was tight with everyone’s eyes on me, I somehow found the courage to bring my hand up on the table for them all to see. “It’s called symbrachydactyly.”
Paolo scrunched up his face, trying to say the word but failing. I could feel Liam’s eyes burning into my skull.
“I can barely say it, so don’t worry,” I said. “My thumb and my pinky formed all the way, you see?” I wiggled them. “But these here, these are called nubbins.” I pointed to my three middle fingers.
“Does it hurt?” Paolo asked.
I smiled. “No, sweetie. Not at all.”
“And you can use it?”
“Sure can. Watch,” I said, using my pinky and thumb to pick up a piece of cheese and pop it into my mouth.
“Wow,” he said on a breath.
Antonella gave me an apologetic smile. “Okay, mi amor, enough questions.”