When the morning comes

26 | chaos in our minds

It had been a long day at school. Parents of one of the children forgot the time, therefore forgot to pick him up. He didn't seem to mind, he liked having all of the toys to himself, not having to fight over it. He played, but interrupted me when I was trying to check tests of the other children. Stories all over the place, with faulty English and a loud voice- I couldn't concentrate, which resulted into not having finished my work. Meant that I had schoolwork to do after dinner time.

After six, his father finally showed up. He hadn't apologised and I felt irritated, but knew time was something important to the English society, and not to their culture and the way they lived. So, I had swallowed my thoughts and feelings away and waved them off with a smile. When finally in the car, my mind drifted off to the letter I had held before I went to sleep last night.

With my mind somewhere in Italy at the lake house, I couldn't help but feel the strong, longing feeling to be there. To smell the water of the lake, to hear the early, raw singing voice of Oprapa, the smell of cooked food, the feeling of Aurora's skin on mine. The thought of knowing that you were alone, with the person you loved most, at a place that was stunning, out of my mind.

A new home. A new life.

A past life.

I missed the house. I missed the memories that belonged to the house. I hadn't been there ever since Aurora had passed. I wondered what Papà Matteo and Mamma Giulia had done with it. Had they sold it to someone else, knowing Aurora and I wouldn't live there anymore, now Aurora was gone? Had they abandoned it, or did they use it as a second home when they wanted to be away from their first one?

With my thoughts in deep, gloomy clouds, I parked the car and wanted to enter the house, but before I could, I felt my phone vibrating in the pocket of my trousers. Fishing them out, I picked up by seeing Daniels name. "Daniel, what up."

No hello's. No Zev's. No greetings at all. "Can you come over with Benjamin?" His voice was monotoned, to the edge of sounding a little cold.

"Uh.." I held my phone by pressing my cheek to my shoulder, sticking the key through the lock. "I guess. Why's that?"

"I'll see you in an hour or so." He hung up. An uneasy feeling erupted in my stomach, making me feel nauseous. The unanswered questions appeared in my mind and I wondered if it had something to do with that. Taking off my coat and shoes, I made my way into the living room, where I found Benjamin lying on the couch with the cat on his stomach.

He put no effort in looking up. He kept staring at the place he was already staring at. I sat down beside him on the couch. Then only, noticed the trace of dried up tears on his cheeks, the snot running down his nose, stopping when it reached his upper lip.

"Hey, campione." I mumbled out with a frown, concern lacing my features. I glanced at the coffee table. No milk. No Oreos. The familiar feeling of guilt made its way into my throat, forming a lump. "What is up?"

Benjamin didn't answer. He quietly stroked Casey's fur. I retrieved a handkerchief out of my trousers, gently pressed it to his face as I wiped the tears and snot away. He whimpered, turned his face away and moved his gaze to Casey.

I kissed his nose. "What is it, Benji?"

"I'm hungry." His voice was hoarse, like he had been crying for hours. And for all I could know, he may had done that. I shot a question to God, a question that contained the words; why did that parent have to come so late today, when my son needed me?

"What do you want to eat?" I asked, knowing soon or later, I could get the proper reason out of him.

"Loads of focaccia bread and tiramisu." He seemed miserable. And no matter how tired I was, I pushed through that barrier and walked over to the freezer, where I got the dough. It'd take a while, but if it could lighten Benjamin's mood, it was all I wanted to do. Thank goodness, I had made the dough a while ago and had put it in the freezer so I could bake it another time. Which was today.