“Yes, I am.” I finally realize she’s my connection. “I’m here for the job as a counselor.”
“Great, we need you. The kids can’t use the playroom without a counselor here.”
“Oh?”
She smiles and walks me around the open area. “This is the area for the toddlers, all age groups have their allotted time slot. The video games are on a cart and it goes room to room for the kids in isolation, that’s mostly popular with the teenagers to seven-year-olds. Right now, we’re in dire need of someone with your early childhood development and counseling background to open the playroom and listen to the kids. Our policy is that the kids will talk and play, and you can give feedback to the parents that might help their quality of life.”
It’s gut-wrenching to imagine being sick at such a young age. How can I say no?
“The kids and their parents haven’t been able to use this facility very much as we can’t keep dependable staff with the required degrees for what we pay.”
“Wow, so if a counselor doesn’t show up, the kids can’t play?” I’m still playing catch up.
“Correct.” Her face shows concern and I’m not sure if she thinks she scared me off or I generally grasp what she’s saying. It’s tragic that the kids don’t get to have the equivalent of recess time that healthy kids get every day at school.
Everyone needs time to hit the reset button and just be. Just be free and carefree. A place to forget what needs to be forgotten and a place that makes them smile.
Isn’t that what I’m doing here in Florence? I’ve escaped my room in Sicily and thought the mansion with Massimo was an even swap. But it’s not, it’s so much more.
I have a man who wants to make love to me at night, he even laughs at a funny movie with me as he holds my hand. Massimo took me on a road trip even though it might be dangerous, and incidentally met his new family. So many of my family members are called that but aren’t my family. I long to belong and have real family..
“That’s a shame,” I reply with shallow breathing. I can only imagine kids of all ages have been cooped up in their bedrooms on the floor for days on end due to staffing issues.
If I was a mother, I’d be livid. It’s not fair to the kids. I know what being caged up feels like and days when I watch life pass me by as Laura moves on and gets her happy ending with Marco and I’m sold to save my family.
These kids don’t get half of what I’ve been given, or even a fraction of what I have now. And yet I still want more. Yet, these kids have something I don’t.
Love. I want to be loved.
That’s why Massimo’s ring hurts. It’s expensive and gorgeous, but I wouldn’t care if it was a tab from a soda can. I just want to hear him say he loves me. I want to know that he can return my love for him.
“Are you okay?” Mrs. Valeti asks.
“Oh, yes, I have a feeling the kids and I will get along very well.”
“You came from a prestigious school, the salary isn’t much, but we need you. Are you willing to be a part of the staff?”
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
As if it was planned, the door bursts open and in come mothers carrying toddlers in their arms, some are in the arms of nurses.
“Wow.” I smile, they are all so cute, some have IV poles being wheeled in and others in their mother’s arms wearing caps on their bald heads. Most are in pajamas, but they all have a smile on their face coming into the room.
“Mrs. V, can we play now?” a boy of approximately four asks as he tugs on her skirt.
“Yes, Matteo, you can, I’ll be here for a few hours. I’ll play blocks with you in a minute.”
“Thanks,” he replies in Italian and darts off to the thick mats on the floor with roadways on it for their tiny cars to use.
“He’s been in and out of the floor for a year. I can’t say ‘no’.”
“Of course not.” I smile.
“I’d like to meet with you again, get you started with the protocols we have to follow. Call it a formal orientation. Are you up to it?”
“Oh, I’m up to it alright,” I reply.
“Great, I’ll have human resources call you and set up a day and time.”