Page 67 of Better Than Gelato
“Okay,” I say, nodding back.
We eat in mostly silence, then I help her get ready for bed. We spend an extra long time readingHarry Potter, and it's way past her bedtime when I give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her goodnight.
“I love you,” I say.
“Do you also like me?” she asks, looking right in my eyes.
It makes me smile. “Yes, I also really like you.”
I don’t know when it happened. It wasn’t that long ago that living with Isa felt like being trapped in a cage with a sarcastic tiger. But now… the tiger has faded into a brilliant little girl who makes me laugh every day.
To my surprise, Isa’s eyes fill with tears again. She squinches them closed and says, “Federica said my dad doesn’t like me, that’s why he’s gone so much. She said he probably loves me, because he’s my dad and he has to, but if he really liked me, he wouldn’t always be in a different country.”
I’m momentarily shocked at the meanness of children.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He’s gone all the time. I thought it was mostly for his job…but maybe it’s a little bit because of me.”
I tilt my head from side to side like I’m considering this possibility. “Can I tell you what I see?”
She nods.
“I see the way your dad looks at you when you walk into the kitchen each morning, like the sun has risen now that Isa is awake. I see how he laughs when you tell him funny stories from school. I see him standing in your doorway, watching you sleep. I see how sad he looks when he hugs you goodbye before his trips. I see a dad who loves his little girl, not because he has to, but because she’s so wonderful he can’t help it.”
Isa doesn’t say anything to this, but she nods, and I’m hoping it’s a nod of agreement.
“Julieta,” she says, turning her big eyes on me. “I have something important to tell you.”
“Go ahead,” I say encouragingly.
She leans in and says in a very quiet voice, “You still have avocado all over your face.”
I laugh and Isa looks pleased at her surprise joke. I touch my cheek and feel dry, gritty avocado gunk.
“I’m going to hop in the shower,” I say. And kiss her goodnight one more time.
The next morning, I discreetly evaluate Isa for signs of sadness. She looks a lot better than she did yesterday. She’s wearing a shirt with a silhouette of the Paris skyline where all the windows are sparkling gemstones
“Isa, I love your shirt,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says. “My dad brought it back for me on his trip to Paris. Because he likes me so much he brings me gifts from the cool places he visits. I thought my best friend Federica would like to see it. She never gets gifts from cool places. And she loves Paris. And gemstones.”
Her eyes are wide and innocent, but she’s smiling wickedly.
Wow. I’ve got to hand it to her. That’s a total power move.
I give her an extra tight hug as I drop her off. That fierce little hooligan is going to be just fine.
* * *
It takes Isa a while to warm up to Jake. She was appalled that I chose to date the American who wears a bright green Adidas jacket instead of the Italian she saw picking me up for the theater in an Armani suit. But Jake slowly wins her over, along with Marco and Sofia. Throughout the cold months of January and February, he’s a near-constant presence in the Rossis’ living room, playing Uno with me and Isa, and readingHarry Potterin funny voices.
February turns into March, and I wake up early one Saturday morning and lay in bed staring at the texture of my off-white ceiling. I’m officially twenty-one years old today.
There’s a text from Maggie waiting for me on my phone.
Chow Juls! Happy Birthday! Do you realize this is the first time in a DECADE I have not been there on your birthday?! I don’t like the precedent we’re setting, but I’ll allow it based on how cool your life is at the moment. Which is why I supported this nanny idea from the beginning.
