ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Ten

Davide

"Here, take her while I go clean myself up. She made a mess." Mom says, passing over Arella who's now sleeping.

Mom's shirt is wet as she holds it off of her skin, running out of the room before I can stop her. This is the first time I've been left alone with Arella. What if she wakes up and starts freaking out?

I may be the silly one, but I don't know how to take care of a child.

Arella makes a sound of frustration against my chest, moving around in my lap until she can get into a comfortable position. Her eyebrows furrow when she can't find somewhere soft to lay.

I'm not a woman, clearly. I don't have natural curves for cushion. My body is toned and muscular from staying in top shape. I take pride in taking care of my body. That means long hours in the gym so I'm able to eat whatever I want.

Alessandro grunts on the armchair next to me, the sound catching my attention. He breathes in and out evenly as he tries to calm himself. What's his deal?

He scrunches up his eyes, bringing his hand up to twirl it in his hair. That's something he does when he can't solve a problem. Pulling on his hair, he twirls it around his finger at the same time.

"What's wrong, dude?" I question him.

He never answers when he gets wound up like this. All of us know about Alessandro having autism. When we were younger, we took offense to his antisocial ways. We didn't understand why he never wanted to play with us.

Mom and Dad sat all of us down one night, explaining that Alessandro still cares about us even if he doesn't want to play or like the things we do. Even after that conversation it took us a while to grasp the concept.

Alessandro stands, pacing the room while his eyes stayed glued to his tablet. He huffs, stopping by the entrance to the foyer. His dark eyes move up and down the screen, his finger scrolling.

Grunting, he runs upstairs and slams his bedroom door closed. The sound startles Arella. She jumps in my lap, her eyes opening and scanning the room.

Nice going, Alessandro...

I pat her back while humming a song softly. I'm not really sure what to do in this situation. Her face scrunches up when she doesn't see Mom or Dad.

A squeaky cry falls from her lips, her tiny hands coming up to rub her eyes.

"Freya just went upstairs to change. She'll be right back. It's okay." I coo.

That isn't enough for her. She tosses her head back, wailing while pushing against my chest. Not knowing what to do, I place her down on the ground. She does her weird crawl thing towards the stairs, stopping short when she realizes she can't climb them.

By this point, she's screaming. Mom's never going to leave her alone with me again. Speaking of Mom, where the hell is she? She should be able to hear Arella crying.

I stand and rush over to the sobbing toddler, picking her up. I hope Mom's covered because I'm going in.

Arella fights me the whole way to Mom's room. She thrashes in my hold while I try to avoid getting smacked by her flailing arms. I don't even knock before barging into Mom's room.