When the morning comes

34 | untouched house

"Grazie, but is it for free?" Benji's voice woke me out of my sleep. I rolled over to my back, tried to search for him in the bed, but he wasn't there.

Someone I didn't recognise laughed a little. "Your dad took care of that. Now, why don't you take the tray and bring it over to the bed. To treat yourselves, breakfast in bed. Isn't that lovely?"

"Grazie, signora. Uhm, merci boo coo." More soft laughter. A closing door. Bare feet on the floor. "Papà? Are you awake? This woman gave us breakfast. I didn't order it or anything. She asked if we wanted some so I said yes. It was for free. Well, sort of. She said you paid for it already. Is that true or did I fall for some kind of joke?"

With my palms rubbing my eyes to get a clear vision, I sat up, snapping my bones. "You did well, Benjamin. That smells lovely. What is it?"

"Orange juice, croissants, butter. And I asked for jam. They gave it to me. And cheese." Benjamin climbed back into bed, covered himself with the blankets and looked up at me. I kissed his cheek, pinched it afterwards. "I miss scones." He mumbled.

"Buongiorno, Campione."

Benjamin cracked a, somewhat, timid smile. "Buongiorno, Papà."

"You want to pray?"

He hummed. "Our Father, which art in Heaven.."

We ate in silence for a while. Listened to the noises of the busy city surrounding the hotel. Seeing everything was full, we had no choice but to choose one where the location wasn't ideal. It didn't matter to me. I was too tired, had slept pretty fine. Soon, we would arrive at our second home, and I couldn't wait.

Resting my head against the headboard of the bed, I let my free hand run through Benjamin's brown hair. My eyes fell onto his appearance, only then I noticed the lack of pajama pants, shorts instead. "You know it's not going to be too warm in Italy, right?"

Benjamin gave me a not- understanding look.

"You're wearing pajama shorts. Where's your bull pajama pants?"

"Oh." Benjamin looked down, played with the crumbs of his croissant. His cheeks colored rosy. Suspicions grew, but I didn't want to confirm them.

"So?"

He let out a deep, but shaky sigh. "Washing machine.. at Ms. Livingstone's house."

"Did you wet the bed?"

"No." He said quickly, but let his gaze linger on his plate. "I.. not exactly. I accidentally peed when I cycled to her house."

After the long talk we'd had last night, I didn't want to tire him out with another one, but with this information in mind, I knew I had to start a different conversation sooner or later. With one last ruffle through his hair we finished breakfast, packed and left the hotel.

Once settled in the car, we put on some Italian music and prepared ourselves for the last, long driving day. Benjamin got settled with his Ferdinand and flower smelling horse, some snacks and a stare out of the window, whereas I moved my butt around to not let it feel like a plank. We would arrive at dinner time, and the closer we came, the more nervous I got.

Clouds hanging low between the mountains. Clear blue lakes. The gravel path. It crunched beneath the car tires. Benjamin awoke because of it and when he glanced around for a while, a small smile appeared on his face.

In the far distance, I could see the small, ochre yellow lake house. Smoke circled out of the chimney, letting us know that people were around already. The Moretti family wouldn't miss out on any of the fun or any occasion at all.