Chapter 11 - Sunday At Woodland Park
Sunday arrived bright and cold.
Seattle had given us one of those rare winter afternoons when the sky turned clear and the mountains seemed close enough to touch.
Mia wore her blue coat.
She held my hand as we walked toward the park café.
“Is he here?”
“Not yet.”
“What if I don’t like him?”
“Then you don’t like him.”
“What if he doesn’t like me?”
I stopped walking.
“Mia.”
She looked up.
“That is not something you need to worry about.”
“Why?”
“Because he already likes you.”
“He doesn’t know me.”
“No.”
“But he already cares about you.”
She considered that.
“Because I’m his kid?”
“Because you’re you.”
She seemed satisfied.
Then she spotted him.
Dante stood near a bench beneath a bare maple tree.
He wore jeans and a navy coat.
No entourage.
No Luca.
No visible sign of the powerful man newspapers described.
He held a small paper bag.
Mia stopped.
“That’s him.”
“Yes.”
Dante saw us.
For a second, every emotion moved across his face.
Joy.
Fear.
Disbelief.
Then he carefully made his expression calm.
He didn’t approach.
He waited.
I appreciated that.
Mia squeezed my hand.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“We can go.”
We walked toward him.
Dante looked at me first.
Then at Mia.
“Hi.”
Mia stared.
“Hi.”
“I’m Dante.”
“I know.”
He smiled.
“I suppose you do.”
She looked at the paper bag.
“What’s that?”
“A peace offering.”
“What kind?”
“Blueberry muffin.”
Mia looked at me.
“Can I?”
“After lunch.”
She sighed.
Dante immediately seemed fascinated.
“You make that exact face.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
Mia looked between us.
“You know my mom?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dante glanced at me.
I nodded.
“A long time ago, your mom and I were very close.”
“How close?”
Dante looked briefly panicked.
I almost laughed.
“Very close,” I said.
Mia accepted that.
Then she pointed toward a nearby table.
“Can we sit?”
“Yes,” Dante said.
We sat.
For the first five minutes, conversation was awkward.
Painfully ordinary.
School.
Weather.
The park.
Then Mia asked the important question.
“Do you know anything about horses?”
Dante visibly prepared himself.
“A horse has approximately two hundred and five bones.”
Mia’s eyes widened.
I stared at him.
“You studied.”
“A horse sleeps both standing and lying down.”
Mia grinned.
“More.”
“Foals can usually stand within about an hour of birth.”
“More.”
“A horse’s teeth take up more space in its head than its brain.”
Mia gasped.
“That’s amazing.”
Dante looked at me with unmistakable triumph.
I shook my head.
Traitorous horse facts.
Within twenty minutes, Mia was telling him about Moonlight.
Within thirty, Dante had been informed that Moonlight was descended from a royal horse family but had rejected monarchy in favor of racing.
Within forty, he was asked to draw Moonlight.
He failed spectacularly.
Mia laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bench.
“That looks like a dog!”
“It’s abstract.”
“It has five legs!”
“One is artistic interpretation.”
“It’s bad.”
Dante looked wounded.
“I’ve been practicing.”
“You need more.”
“I accept constructive criticism.”
I watched them.
Their similarities were subtle.
The way they tilted their heads when listening.
The way both tapped their fingers when thinking.
The crease between their eyebrows.
But there were differences too.
Mia was open where Dante was guarded.
Curious where he was cautious.
She moved toward the world expecting it to welcome her.
I had worked hard to give her that.
I suddenly understood something important.
Dante entering her life did not have to change who she was.
If we did this carefully, he could add to her world without replacing anything already there.
After an hour, Mia leaned toward me.
“Can I show Dante the ducks?”
I looked at him.
He waited.
“Sure.”
Mia took his hand.
Dante froze.
Just for a second.
Then his fingers carefully closed around hers.
They walked toward the pond.
I stayed behind.
Not far.
Close enough to see everything.
Far enough to let something begin.
Dante listened while Mia talked.
He did not look back at me.
That mattered too.
He wasn’t asking whether he was doing it right.
He was simply paying attention to her.
Kate appeared beside me.
I startled.
“What are you doing here?”
“You invited me.”
“I said you could come.”
“Same thing.”
She handed me coffee.
“Which one is Dante?”
I pointed.
She watched him.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“He does look serious.”
“I told you.”
Mia suddenly pointed toward a duck.
Dante crouched beside her.
Kate smiled.
“So?”
“So what?”
“How do you feel?”
I watched them.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s allowed.”
“I thought this would feel like losing something.”
“What?”
“My life.”
Kate looked at me.
“But?”
“It doesn’t.”
Dante and Mia began walking back toward us.
“It feels like making room.”
Kate bumped her shoulder against mine.
“That sounds terrifying.”
“It is.”
“Also good?”
I looked at Dante.
May you like
Then Mia.
“Maybe.”
