Panic

V A L E R I U S ' P O V :

Ellie gasps as her green sucker falls to the floor with a clank. Her mouth forms an 'o' before settling into a pout.

I pick it up, tossing it out before grabbing a new one. A smile lights her face once again.

The door shuts and I look back to see Carlo come into the room with a clipboard. He smiles at Ellie, pulling up a chair and sitting across from us.

I brought Ellie a coloring book, suggested by Carlo. It's designed to keep her brain advancing and thinking. So, Ellie is busy sucking on her new lollipop as she colors, figuring out what color goes on what picture.

"Good news." My mood brightens. "All open wounds are closed and all bruises are faded! It looks like little Miss Eleonora is all healed!" I don't even try to hide the smile that embraces my face. My hand immediately goes up to Ellie's head where I brush her hair back. Her sweet eyes meet mine and I smile.

"You hear that Ellie? All better." My thumb rubs over her soft cheek.

"All better." She repeats. That's right.

Over the few weeks, Ellie's had visibly gotten better mentally and physically. Her skin has a healthy glow and her face if free from scabs, leaving only a small scar above her left eyebrow. Her personality is starting to shine through, she's becoming more comfortable.

She's beautiful. My beautiful girl.

Ellie goes back to coloring and sucking her lollipop.

"There are some more.. sensitive things I'd like to speak to you about." Carlo's voice pulls me out of my happy trance. "I'd like to have Ellie's urine sampled."

"What?" My eyebrows lift in confusion. "For what?"

Carlo sighs, setting the clipboard off to the side. He gives me a serious look, one I've never liked. It means trouble.

"Wherever Eleonora was, it wasn't safe." Obviously. "I'd like to take into consideration that she could have possibly been sexually assaulted.. or raped."

A deep billowing sense of rage fills my gut. I know it could have happened, it was always a possibility. Though, I never wanted to admit to myself that it did actually happen. No parent wants to think that their child has been fucking raped.

"The urine would only be to sample for any STI's or other infections. I don't think Eleonora would be comfortable with me performing a pelvic exam.. and I don't think you'd be either."

"No." I say. "No pelvic exam, she's a child— she can't. She's been through so much, I want her to have her privacy. So much has already been taken from her."

My throat feels heavy, like someone is clawing at it. I look to Ellie. Her body bends over as she draws on the paper. She's completely concentrated.

Just with one look to her, I feel relaxed again.

Carlo reaches into a mini fridge he has in his exam room and gives Ellie a juice box. I open it for her and let her have it. My tongue pokes the inside of my cheek.

"I need to know.. has she ever been nervous about you touching her? Scared with you when you bathe her? Is she uncomfortable around men? Woman?"

My mind travels to any possible scenario but I can't think of any.

"No, she's been fine with me. Nothing ever concerned me." I swallow the lump in my throat.

I hate this.

Carlo nods.

• • •

My foot shakes my body while my leg repeatedly taps the ground. I've never been this nervous in my life before.

Carlo should be back any moment with the results. Ellie fell asleep not too long ago.

My hand subconsciously plays with her hair. I'm sure to be gentle, not rough. I don't want to wake her up.

My ears could have perked up if I were a dog. I hear Carlo outside in the hallway, arguing with someone. I get up, sadly retreating my hand from Ellie's hair. The voice gets louder— shit.

I know that voice too well.

"NO!" That goddamn voice.

I'm standing beside the door, I can hear them perfectly.

"What?" Carlo asks, sounding shocked.

"Carlo, would you just fix my son. He got gunpowder in his ear while I wasn't looking! He can't fucking hear." My papà shouts sternly.

This isn't good.

"I CAN'T HEAR!" Marcello screams, clearly with no perception of how loud he's being.

My head whips towards Ellie when I hear her stir, crunching the wax paper. Please don't wake up.

He better not wake up my kid.

"There's something I need to take care of. I'll be a short few minutes, please.. give me some time."

I know Carlo's words won't work. My father waits for no one.

I look to Ellie.

I walk over and place my hand to hers. There's a possibility that my secret can be leaked in just a matter of seconds.

Damn Marcello.

I thought he was banned from the gun room years ago. I guess I really have been gone for awhile.

"What could be keeping you busy? My sons are home and you only work for us." Papà's voice is clear. The only reason he isn't ripping Carlo's head off is because Carlo has worked with our family for decades. Papà and Carlo have been good friends for years.

The doorknob rumbles. I hesitate to let go of Ellie's hand, ready to go to the door.

"MY EAR!"

Idiot.

"I—"

"Are one of my sons keeping something from me?"

"No, Adriano—"

The door is about to burst open when I jump up and pull it open, just enough to see me and not the child in the room.

Brown eyes so similar meet mine.

This is the first I've been in my papà's presence in two years.

"VALERIUS!?" Mar gasps, viciously looking around to make sure everyone else is looking too. A cotton shirt is being pressed to his ear.

"Val..", Papà begins slowly. His throat clears. "Valerius. Why haven't you told me you've come home?"

"I haven't."

Something flashes in his eyes, his shoulders stand up straighter. This is awkward.

"Right."

"VALERIUS IS HERE!" My eyes roll.

Idiot. Stupid idiot.

"You'll have to excuse us for a moment." Carlo says to papà. Papà snaps his head to the doctor. I notice the papers in Carlo's hand.

"What? Is something wrong? Valerius, are you sick?" Papà almost sounds.. worried.

I can't tell if it's fake concern or not.

"No—"

"Then what?"

"It's nothin—"

"Valerius—"

"Pneumonia."

"You- what?"

"I have pneumonia." I force a cough with a blank face pointed at him.

Papà doesn't believe me. He knows better. After all, he's the one who taught me how to lie.

"You came all the was back to Italy for a common cold?" Pneumonia isn't a common cold. I almost say. I don't though.

Ellie stirs, the wax paper crunching.

Fuck. I hate that stupid sanitary paper.

There was a little more arguing. Papà refuses to go and every second that passes, I'm worrying that Ellie will wake.

"Then what's that?" Papà points to the papers in Carlo's hand.

Mar wondered off, finally annoyed with our arguing.

"My results." I lie quickly.

"And what does it say?" Papà enquires.

His eyes stare at me, knowing I'm lying straight to his face. He's almost daring me to keep going.

I snatch the papers from Carlo's hand before papà can. My eyes glaze over it.

My heart sinks to my stomach.

My jaw ticks. "I don't have pneumonia." My voice came out softer than I had hoped. Relief floods through me. She's clean.

"Look, I'd love to chat but right now I have to talk with Carlo about how to properly take care of this. I'll only be a few minutes. You can wait."

Papà's features soften. His eyes holding something in them.

"Of course. Take your time."

• • •

The napkin soaks up the ice cream that drips from Ellie's face. Chocolate ice cream, to be specific.

Its her favorite.. of everything.

Chocolate could be what she eats for the rest of her life if she had the choice.

Sticking her tongue out and licking the side of her face, a smile reaches my lips. Suddenly her spoon is at my lips, silently asking to let her feed me.

I don't protest because I don't want to dissatisfy her. The half-melted dessert drips down my lips.

I eat it and then realize I haven't had ice cream since I was young. Maybe.. eight? I don't know. I can't really remember.

Ellie's eyes crinkle and her smile broadens. My baby. "Mhmm good." I tell her so she would smile again. What could be considered soup comes to my lips again and I laugh when Ellie misses my face, the chocolate going on my chin.

Little devil.

I pull her closer, my attention is on her completely as she turns her head back to the television that had some disney movie on it. John told me that his girls like it and I think Ellie does too.

Something about a bear with antlers and some girl who sacrifices her life for her fathers.

A dumb movie.. but Ellie seems to like it.

• • •

Rings of my phone cause me to look up.

Mamma Incoming Call. . .

My hand falls to my chin, rubbing it. I start silently praying that this call isn't what I think it's for.

I pick it up.

"Valerius Alessio Armani—"

Here we go.

"Mamma—"

"It's absurd that I am just now finding out that you've been home for what? Weeks? Say months and I kill you."

"It's only been a few days." I lie.

I'd rather my head stay attached to my body.

"And in those few days you haven't found it good to call your mamma? You torture me!"

So dramatic.

"I've been very busy. Lots of work."

"And I've been busy too, Valerius! Working, cleaning, cooking. And still I call you. Text you. Though these days you seem to never answer. Tell me. Has my own son forgotten about his mamma?"

Both of us know that my mamma does not cook. Nor does she clean, let alone work. She yells. She does do that well.

"I have not—"

"Then tell me why I've been disregarded!"

My body tenses. I lean back on my home office chair. My head starts to hammer, mamma is great at giving me headaches.

My fingers begin to tap my desk in annoyance.

I sigh. "You're not, mamma. You could never be. I really have just been busy. I'll do better." This conversation reminds me too much of when I was still a teenager.

I always wished to be the boy mamma wants me to be. When I was young I would obsess over it. I wanted her to love me.. sometimes I still want it. She says she loves me only when I do as she says. I'm only worthy of her love when I attend to her wishes. Since I've gotten older, things have changed. I'm not really as worried about her feelings like I was when I was a boy.

"Is it a girl?" She spits. I tense.

"No."

"Good." She makes a tsk noise. "No girl is worthy of my son. And no girl who takes my son's time away from me deserves my son at all."

I lick my dry lips. I think back to all the fights I got in with mamma when she found out I had a serious girlfriend. A woman I was going to marry. Mamma was furious.

"So then you're home alone?"

I'm careful about how I answer next. I don't want her coming to my home unexpected to find Ellie.

I think now to Ellie. I've gotten her a speech tutor. A woman who used to teach my younger brother, Savino. My brother had trouble speaking when he was young, he has a stutter. Now he's able to speak well for the most part. The tutor is here to help Ellie with her words. Ellie has been adjusting to the tutor for a few days now.

They have lessons for two hours a day. John stays in the room and I go to work in my office. Ellie didn't like that at first but she's better now. Still it pains me to go every time.

That's where she is now.

"Not particularly. I'm busy through the day. Usually out or having meetings at my home. It's not a good idea to come around."

"Now, Valerius. I am your mamma. I'll come and go as I please. You would stop a meeting for me, wouldn't you?"

No. My jaw ticks. "Of course."

I find myself lying a lot when I'm speaking to mamma. Or even just about her. She's a hard woman to please.

She made a hum of approval. "See. My good little boy is still in there. You'll make time for me this week, won't you?" I'd like to slam my head against the wall but I refrain so I don't bother Ellie's lesson.

I don't want to. I don't want to see mamma nor do I want to talk to her. Though, still, she's my mamma.

"I'll see."

• • •

"Papà!" A smile broadens on my face.

If anyone can lift my mood it's Ellie.

"Ellie!" I pick my girl up, tossing her into the air to hear her sweet laughter. When I catch her, her hair bounces around my face. I lean in and kiss her cheek.

"Papà is here!" She tells me and I laugh. Her voice is clear and I know exactly what she's saying.

The lessons are helping. Good.

"Yes, papà is here."

Eleonora's legs wrap around my waist, her arms wrap around my neck.

Any previous thoughts or dreads I had about my conversation with mamma are now gone. Gladly, I instead focus my energy on my daughter.

"Now papà play princess?" The word 'princess' comes out wrong. I could barely grasp at what she was saying at first.

"Princesses?" I ask, walking deeper into the yard.

"Us be princesses!"

My eyebrows shoot upwards.

"No. No, papà is not a princess." I say with a chuckle.

A pout touches her lips, her shoulders drooping.

"Why no princess, papà? Papà no loud princess?" Her voice is either sad or filled with concern. I can't figure out which yet. Maybe both?

My heart tugs against my chest.

"Papà isn't a princess. Why can't papà be the king?" I suggest with a slight smirk.

Ellie's lip begins to wobble and suddenly I'm alarmed. Oh no.

"Papà king? No princess? No loud princess?" Her bright blue eyes start to tear up, shattering the already breaking pieces of my heart. "Papà is loud to be princess! Sad." I blink at her in concern.

I have no idea what she's saying. None at all. It's actually scaring me a little bit.

"No don't cry!" I sputter quickly. "Please— Uhm, yes. Papà is a princess. Papà can be a princess."

Her frown turns around. Her small fists go up to wipe her eyes. Ellie sniffles.

"Reawy?" I finish wiping her tears, trying to ignore the aching feeling in my chest.

"Of course."

I've just officially lost last part to my manhood. I'm not a man anymore. I'm just a princess now.

In a flash, Ellie's features are bright again. Her smile is gleaming. She wiggles herself out of my arms and runs into the yard to grab her pile of flowers for us.

"Don." My attention turns to John who stands behind me.

How long has he been there?

A hint of a smile appears on his lips. "Or should I call you Princess Don—"

"I'll kill you John." I snap quickly with a straight face.

John didn't tense or get scared but he did shut up.

"You've gotten an email. Should I read it to you?"

"No." I replied. "You've annoyed me."

A quiet chuckle leaves his lips. "Angelo Rossi has ask if you want to meet up with some of your high-school friends. He attached it to your business email so I got the message too."

Angelo? I forgot about him. We were good friends in high-school. All the teachers hated us.

John moves his clasped hands from behind him to his front. He watches Ellie toss her flowers into a bowl, then he looks at me.

"He said it'll happen next weekend."

I don't know how good of an idea that sounds like.

Maybe it would be good for me to reach out to some old friends. Unless I want to stay Princess Don for the rest of my life.

• • •