In Summer We Started

8.

Valentina

It had been two weeks since I moved to Italy for the summer, but I'd heard no news from either of my parents. It made me feel bad like I was all alone and they didn't care about what I was doing. I'd called dad a couple of times, but he didn't respond. Throwing the phone Grandma had given me on the bed, I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to push the bad thoughts away. They loved me. They hadn't just abandoned me. They wouldn't do that, would they? Actually, I didn't know. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. Seeing my parents split up was something I never thought would happen, but it did. Maybe because it was because of dad's loan like mom had said, but it didn't seem very likely. It felt like there was something more–something they weren't telling me, or they didn't want me to know of. Did it even matter? Dad was gone, and would always be gone. At first, I told myself it was because the divorce was hard on them, and they were dealing with their broken feelings, that was why they hadn't checked up on me. But, a call or two, wasn't bad right? Still, two weeks and nothing. Just radio silence.

The hurt pulsated through my veins, clawing at my heart with its strong claws. I angrily wiped a stray tear away, looking out the window at the low lights lighting up the street, and the houses nearby. I remembered the day dad and I went for a walk; it hadn't been so dark out, and the golden sun still painted the dark blue skies, splashing orangey hues around. Dad had wanted to get me some ice cream as a reward for my grades which had gradually begun to improve, and I skipped along eagerly. He looked down at me and smiled.

"Are you doing good, kiddo?" He asked, tightening his grip on my arm. He had on a bright smile, and I remembered thinking the best times were when my dad smiled. His smile made the whole place light up.

"Yes, dad. So, which ice cream are we going to get? Vanilla, or chocolate?"

"Anyone you want, sugar," he said, beaming at me. I nodded, smiling to myself. When we got to the ice cream shop, dad got me two instead of one. The ice creams were so cold and froze my fingers as I struggled to hold the two. But, one ended up slipping and falling on the sidewalk.

"Oh no."

"It's okay, honey. I'll get you another. Just stay right here, okay?" I turned to look as dad raced back to the ice cream shop, going through his pocket for the change the ice cream guy had given him before. They talked a bit, and dad pointed at the chocolate on the glass display. I faced the other side, bringing the ice cream to my lips. It was cold, and the flavor instantly melted on my tongue like sugar. I ended up getting some smeared on my chin and the tip of my nose in the process.

"Careful, honey. Before these things freeze you," he said, laughing and wiping off the one on my chin.

"Well, if they do, I have you to thank, right?"

Dad laughed again. "Sure. And your mom too. We both love you very much."

"Always?"

"Always." And then he hoisted me onto his shoulder with his free hand, racing all the way to the beach. Dad made a promise, but I felt bad for him making it in the first place. Had it been because of me? It hurt too much to remember. I wished they hadn't broken off, things wouldn't have been like this, they'd be... better. I wouldn't have to think about my parents with a slight pang in my heart, which happened to be every time. Tears poured out of my eyes, trickling down my chin and I wiped them off with the back of my hand. Reaching for my phone, I dialed dad's number again, but he didn't pick up. Maybe he was busy, or out without his phone. But, out where? I rang up mom next because I desperately needed someone to talk to, someone to share my feelings with. Mom picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, honey. What's up? How's grandma?"

I breathed deeply, restraining myself from lashing out. "Grandma's fine. I'm helping her out at the shop."

"Okay, that's good."

"I've been trying to reach dad," I sighed. "He isn't picking up."

"Well, maybe he's just busy. You know, he's working and..."

"Is he still? He has debts to..."

"Honey, I made dinner. Aren't you going to eat?" I could hear a guy's voice shouting in the background.

That stopped me short. "Mom, who's that? Who's calling you 'honey?'"

"Ahh, it's uhm..." her voice trailed off. She placed the call on hold and shouted, "I'll be right down. I'm making a quick phone call." When she put the phone back in her ear, she whispered harshly. "Hey, Val. I gotta go."

"No, mom. I want to know who that is. Is he your new boyfriend now? Really? And you didn't think to inform me?"

"Look, hon. It's not like..."

"Honey, are you still on the phone?" The guy shouted again. His deep, grating voice was starting to irritate the hell out of me.

"It'll be okay. You'll see," mom said. "I love you very much. Bye." Before I could interrupt, she'd already ended the call. I stared down at the phone in my shaky hands, drilling holes into it. Mom had a new boyfriend. Was that why she hadn't called all this while? Was it because of him? I was torn, thinking about the whole thing; Mom wouldn't do that, would she? Not so soon into their divorce. I flung the phone to a corner of my room, annoyed at myself for even thinking such. Mom still loved dad, right?

I tried to sleep, turning here and there on the bed. Puffing out the pillows, I pulled the bed covers up to my chest, but it did no good. I couldn't shut down my brain. I pushed the warm cover to the side, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. Suddenly, it felt too hot in my room, like I could barely breathe. My arms and neck were sweaty, and I inhaled a steady breath, slipping my feet into something comfy–pink slippers. I was careful going down the stairs, avoiding the ones that creaked loudly so as not to wake my grandma who was asleep in the other room. By the time I got to the front door, I turned back, listening for any sounds apart from the chirping of crickets outside. Grandma was still asleep. The cold breeze slammed my face–despite the stifling summer heat–the minute I stepped out onto the wide wraparound porch. Mom used to live here, she'd told me once about how it was growing up in this old, ancient home. She'd always wanted to go out, to explore and she'd ended up far away from home where she started college and later fell in love with dad.

I didn't know what Mom's life was before that, but my guess was that it was mundane. The phone I'd taken out with me, the side of the screen broken from my acts of violence, beeped and I hurriedly took it out of my pocket to check who had texted. It was Mom telling me that she could explain. Explain? I didn't need her to, I already knew. My only issue was how mom had moved on so quickly while my head still reeled from the fact that my parents were divorced. Didn't they have respect for each other? I walked away from Grandma's house, angry tears brimming in my eyes. And why hadn't mom told me anything since? Or, anyone for that matter. Did grandma know about it too? I wondered if dad had heard of it. Was that why he wasn't picking up my calls? Did he feel bad? So many thoughts circled my head as I continued walking, farther and farther away from the house. I noticed I was past the bakery and grandma's shop, but I didn't care. I just kept walking.

Maybe this was all one really bad dream I would wake up from. And the next day, my face would be all smiles. Right? Except when I looked down at the phone clutched in my grip, mom's text was there, and it felt too real to not be true. Mom had moved on, she was seeing someone new. She said she wanted to explain everything to me, but she didn't really mean it. Even if she did, what would it change? My fists clenched tightly, but the wind blew my hair around my face, and my fingers loosened. It calmed me somewhat. I walked on, lost in thoughts, and wishing none of it had happened until a bike braked in front of me, and I looked up. My eyes widened, my mouth agape. I jumped out from the side of the road, apologies already tumbling out of my mouth when I saw Luca.