Raffaele was gone almost as soon as he finished his last bite. Ivo appeared in the doorway, and shortly after, they both disappeared, leaving me with the task of getting the bedroom completed before he comes back.
The room is completely empty, and the dull gray walls give me the idea of adding a bit of color into the mix. I ask Francesco, who has become my shadow, for a computer and use the program to compare colors on the screen before making a choice.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to hire a painter? I could get one here within the hour,” Francesco says.
“What would be the fun in that?” I reply, and he looks at me like I’ve gone crazy. “The problem is you’ll have to use my credit card. It’s in my purse.”
He stops me before I can leave the room. “You can’t use your cards. Mr. Di Morte will see to it. Make a list of what you want. I’ll make sure the furniture is delivered this afternoon and have it sent over within the hour.”
“Are you sure? Should I call Raffaele to make sure I haven’t gone over budget?” I ask. He laughs, and I mean he laughs so hard, I think he’s going to bust a gut. “It’s not that funny!”
“It really is,” he says while catching his breath. I hand him the list and look around the empty room. I need a ladder. I make it as far as the stairs and see two men already walking up with a ladder and a tarp to lay on the floor.
* * *
I’m on my last wall and then I get to touch up around the trim. I’ve always loved painting. I find it soothing. Mom let me experiment in my own room, but eventually, she let me do the entire house. I’ve become really good at it. Then one summer, I was allowed to work for a painting company, but that ended quickly when Dad found out I was on the job with three other male college students.
When I hear a tiny knock at the door, I call out for whoever it is to come in. I expect to see Peppa with a sandwich, but instead, I find a cute little girl with pigtails, in shorts and a T-shirt.
“Well, hello there. What’s your name?” I ask quietly, not wanting to scare her off.
“Adriana.” Her voice is as adorable as can be. She’s so cute, I want to scoop her up in my arms and cuddle her close.
“What a beautiful name. My name is Evangeline. Do you want to come in and sit with me while I finish working?” She takes a couple of steps inside. “I’m almost done with the painting. Just a few touches here and there.” I continue chatting and asking her questions. It takes a while for Adriana to warm up to me, but soon, she’s yapping away about her finger paints.
I ask her how old she is, and she responds, “Four.”
When she hears her name being called, she goes shy, but I can hear the anxiety in Peppa’s voice.
“We’re up here,” I call out. Peppa appears at the door, relieved to see the little girl sitting on the tarp, watching me.
“Adriana, you have Mrs. Withers looking everywhere for you. You can’t leave without telling someone,” she scolds the young girl.
“But she won’t let me do anything except color. I don’t wanna color,” Adriana responds. “Can I stay with Evangeline? I promise I won’t touch anything.”
Adriana looks so sad at the thought of leaving. “Let her stay. I’m almost done in here, and then we’ll have lunch together while they put the furniture together.” I turn to Adriana. “Would you like that?”
She nods and looks pleadingly at Peppa. “Please.”
Peppa cracks a smile and says, “You’re to behave yourself. I’ll let Mrs. Withers know that you’re here with us. This doesn’t mean you get to wander off, though. Your father would have a fit if he didn’t know where you were.”
“Maybe I can call her dad and reassure him,” I say.
“Her father is Ivo. And no worries, I’ll make sure he knows,” Peppa says, then before she leaves, she reminds us to come and eat. After my initial shock that Ivo has a daughter, my mind wanders to thoughts of where Adriana’s mother is. I’ll ask Peppa later. For now, the little girl seems content being here with me, and that’s all that matters.
* * *
It’s such a lovely afternoon that I decide a picnic might be a great way to get to know Adriana. The room is drying, the furniture arrives in an hour, and it’ll take them at least another hour to get it all set up. That gives us time to make sandwiches and snacks to have while we explore the garden.
Little hands grab two apples from the fridge and set them on the counter. I hoist her up next to me as I slice the apples, then put them in a plastic container.
“You’ll be starting school soon,” I say.
She smiles and swings her legs. “I’m so excited!” She squeals with delight.
“I would be too,” I say. “Meeting new friends, playing in the schoolyard, and learning so much new stuff. Math and reading and writing.”
“I already know my numbers,” she declares with a giggle.
“You do?” I feign surprise. She begins to rattle off her numbers to prove her point. “Wow! That’s amazing.”
“I know my colors and how to write my name. My name is sooooo long,” she says, rolling her eyes and looking even cuter. As she continues jabbering, I make us some ham and cheese sandwiches and throw in some granola bars I found in the pantry, along with a juice box for Adriana and a bottle of water for me.
Francesco’s been around the whole time. He stays a distance away, but he’s always there. On our way out to the garden, I hand him the sandwich I made for him, with triple the ham and cheese because he’s a big guy. He lifts his eyes and gives me a thankful grin.
Adriana and I spread out our blanket and nibble away at our food. I lie back on the blanket, staring up at the clouds. Adriana does the same, squinting in the sun.
“What are you looking for?” she asks.
“When I was a little girl, I used to do this all the time. I would just lie on the grass and look up at the clouds. The clouds would turn into shapes. Sometimes they become bunnies, or dogs, or…” I point up at a soft pillowy cloud passing over. “See right there? That one looks like a bird.”
We get wrapped up in our game, laughing at the weird and wonderful shapes our minds see, when Francesco joins us to let me know that the furniture has arrived, and he wants me to check it out before the delivery men leave. We grab our things and drop them off in the kitchen before going to inspect the new room.
I gasp. I love it! The dark solid wood against the gray-blue walls looks awesome. Even without the bedding and décor, it looks great.
“Now we really have to get to work,” I tell Adriana.
“I can help?”
“You bet. Let’s go find some sheets and make the bed first. Then we have to set up the lamps and make it feel cozy. Does your room feel warm and snuggly?” I ask.
“Yeah, Papa gave me a pink room with unicorns and stars,” she says as we head down the hall to find the linen closet with crisp white sheets.
“He must love you lots and lots.”
“He does. Daddy and Uncle Rafe love me the most. Oh, and Peppa and Mrs. Withers,” she says happily, skipping along beside me.
I find it oddly sweet that Raffaele has made quite an impression on the little sweetie. “Uncle Rafe is fun, huh?”
“He plays with me, and he makes me laugh. He and Daddy are best friends. I want to have a best friend like Uncle Rafe one day.”
“My best friend is back home. I’m here alone. Maybe, until you find your best friend, we can be friends. What do you think?”
“Yeah!” she shouts, raising her arms in the air. Children have a gift for making you feel good.
A short time later, we’re putting the finishing touches on the room, while Francesco hangs the drapes back up. Peppa calls for Adriana as we’re admiring our handiwork.
“Maybe I can come back tomorrow?” she asks eagerly.
“That sounds fun, but not without asking Mrs. Withers first,” I remind her. She bounces out of the room, and Francesco exits to take a call, leaving me alone. I move my things into the bedroom, and before closing the door to join Peppa downstairs, I prop up a tiny soft pink stuffed bunny on the pillows.
My first day as a capo’s wife was busy, but the true test of my work will depend on Raffaele’s reaction.