When the morning comes

46 | dads are teenage boys

When I had fallen asleep, I'd had the longest and deepest sleep I'd had in a very long time, without restless dreaming. I woke up feeling rested, something that I hadn't felt since forever. I had energy to do things, the desire to do things. It had become a rare thing ever since her passing.

I had taken Benjamin to Mamma Giulia and Papà Matteo, bid them a farewell and promised to visit soon. Rafaelle had given me a hug, I had purposefully searched for Vincenzo, not wanting to leave on bad terms. He hadn't given me much attention, but I could see in his eyes that it did something to him.

With a promise to visit them all soon, we packed our stuff, cleaned up the lake house and started the long journey back in our car, feeling as if it was the right time to go home. With great reluctance from Benjamin, though he did not struggle against.

The windows were rolled down, the breeze making Benjamin's brown hair fly up. He moved his hand through the wind, trying to catch it. I turned the radio on, the Italian singing soothing our ears; for this was our second home.

I wanted to drive through, with no stops in between, but once we reached Calais, the boat had already gone. We searched for a hotel, but since it was in the middle of the night, not many answered their phones.

Parking the car on the now empty parking lot near the boat, I reached for Benjamin's seat, slowly pushed it down and covered him with my jacket, as he had already fallen asleep. When I had turned my handle and pushed the seat down, I locked the car, pulled up the sunshades and took off our seatbelts.

A low grunt. The door handle being pulled back and forth, rapidly. I opened my eyes, blinked them a few times to let them get used to the bright light.

"Did you lock the car? Did we sleep here?" Benjamin couldn't sit still, squirmed almost. "Can you open it? I need to pee really bad, have been needing to since a very long time."

"Why didn't you just open the window?" Yes, old fashioned car. The window needed to be opened by hand, still.

"No way. There's all creepy people here."

I searched for the keys and clicked the car open. "Go on, then."

Benjamin swallowed, his gaze lingering upon the people walking by, then towards the bushes, which was an unpleasant distance away. "I think I'm good."

I chuckled. "Come on." When arrived, I turned around, guarding him.

"Mamma would be fuming, wouldn't she be?"

"Gentlemen don't pee the bushes, like animals would do." I hummed, taking his hand in mine after he had, most likely, unconsciously, slipped it in mine after he was done. We started walking back, I felt his gaze on my face.

"Papà?"

"Sì?"

He swallowed. Seemed nervous. "Then what happens at home now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel strange."

"What kind of strange?" I looked down at him, felt how he squeezed my hand tighter.

"Don't know." He squinted his eyes, looked down at our feet.

I walked up to the building with him, where I could, hopefully, reserve a spot for our car on the boat for the final way back. "Well, I think it would be good to put our focus on how we can go further now some things have come to light."

"I don't want a toilet alarm clock. Or some nappy."

"I didn't suggest that." I pulled his earlobe. "Don't stress it too much, alright?" I observed him, felt that it wasn't exactly that what he had meant to say. "What else, Cowboy?" I fished my wallet out of my pocket, walking up to the counter.