“Could I stay home from school, too?” Kevin asked.
“Could I come over with Uncle Camillo tomorrow?” Junior asked.
“You guys, let’s not throw all of this stuff at her at once,” I said.
“Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Rose said.
Everyone turned their gazes toward her and I drew in a deep breath through my nose.
“Yes, I’ll keep Ana home from daycare tomorrow so you can spend time with her. Junior, if you want to come over and spend time with Kevin, I’ll call him out of school tomorrow. The two of you can play Minecraft all day and I’ll make us all some snacks we can eat.”
“I can make the snacks,” I said.
“You’ll be too busy entertaining your daughter,” she said, grinning. “I’ll make the snacks. You just make sure the two of you are back over here tomorrow.”
“Only if you let me cook dinner,” I said.
“Actually, I thought the guys, and I could do a pizza night with movies,” Cassie said.
“What?” Rose asked.
“Yeah. If Camillo’s gonna be here with Ana, she’s probably not gonna nap. That means she’ll be down early for bed, so the boys and I can have pizza and watch movies.”
“Actually, I was thinking I could make dinner,” I said. “It’s been a long time since I had the ability to make a full family dinner.”
“Camillo, you don’t—”
“What was the promise I made to you, Rose?” he asked.
Her eyes stared at me as I pulled Ana from her high chair.
“We’ll come over tomorrow and I’ll cook dinner for us all that evening,” I said.
I shot her a stern gaze, and immediately, she backed down.
“All right,” she said, nodding. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I convinced her to leave the food on the table while we all ventured into the living room to play charades. Junior and Kevin automatically paired up, which warmed my heart in ways I didn’t think were possible. I held my sweet, beautiful daughter in my arms while the boys challenged the girls and I couldn’t stop laughing as they bounced around and tried to win points for their team. By the time the game was winding down, Ana was getting fussy, and before I knew it, Rose was plucking her from my arms.
I watched her turn her back and head toward the stairs and, immediately, I followed her to watch their routine.
I wanted to know how my own daughter enjoyed being put down so I could do it tomorrow night.
I walked behind them into her room and watched while Rose changed her into her pajamas. She wiped down Ana with some baby wipes, explaining to me that Ana preferred morning baths instead of evening ones. I took in every single detail of the encounter as I watched mother and daughter enjoy their routine.
I never thought my heart could fill with the amount of joy I had, watching the mother of my child take care of our daughter.
She put Ana down into her crib, but Ana’s whining got worse. Rose tried to shush her. I could see the frustration and exhaustion quickly creeping up her back as she bent over the crib, so I went over and planted my hands onto her hips.
She gasped as I slowly moved her off to the side, her body obeying me as it always did.
I looked down into the beautiful blue eyes of my angry little girl, and I planted my hand onto her stomach. I slowly began to massage her, chuckling lightly as burp after burp rose up from her throat.
“I guess garlic doesn’t agree with everyone,” I said, grinning.
Then, an idea crossed my mind.
“ Ninna nanna, ninna oh. Questo bimbo a chi lo dò? Se lo dò alla Befana, se lo tiene una settimana. Se lo dò all’uomo nero, se lo tiene un anno intero. Ninna nanna, ninna oh, questo bimbo me lo terrò .”
I sang the little Italian verse over and over again, like my mother did with me when I was angry at night. I could still hear her soothing voice in my ears while Ana’s cries slowly lessened. Over and over again, I sang the lyrics to her while memories of my own mother flooded to the forefront of my mind.
I missed her every single day I woke up.
After the third time of singing it, my beautiful little daughter was asleep. Rose was staring at the interaction, her eyes wide with questions.
I rose up and looked over at her, watching as she peeked over into our daughter’s crib. I could see the delight behind her eyes at the fact that Ana was asleep and the relief that flooded all the way down to her toes.
She had been easy to read that first night and it was wonderful that she was still so easy to interpret now.
“What was that?” she asked.
“A lullaby my mother used to sing to me back in Italy,” I said.