That night, after Juliano left, Emilia climbed into Rebeca’s bed.
– Mother.
– Yes my dear.
I like Juliano. He’s nice.
– Great.
Will he be around for long?
Is it okay if I stay?
Emilia thought.
— I think so. He’s not trying to be a dad. He’s just Juliano. That’s fine.
Rebeca hugged her daughter, breathing in her shampoo scent. Strawberry.
I love you, Emi.
I love you too, Mom.
Evan came to talk to her the next morning, while Emilia was watching TV.
Mom, can I ask you something?
– Always.
Are you going to marry Juliano?
I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it yet.
– Why?
Because if you get married, does that mean we have to call him Dad?
No, darling. Never. You already have a father. Juliano would just be Juliano. An adult who cares about you, but not your father. Never your father, unless you want him to be.
Evan nodded, relieved.
Okay. Because Dad’s kind of mean sometimes. But he’s still Dad. I don’t want a new one.
You don’t need a new one.
— But Juliano is cool. He really listened when I talked about math. Dad always just stares into space.
I realized that.
So, yes, he can stay around.
Rebeca hugged her son, her serious and thoughtful boy.
— I love you, Ev.
I love you too.
—
Two weeks later, Garrett called.
Rebeca stared at his name on her cell phone. She hadn’t spoken to him in six weeks. He never called unless something was wrong.
She answered.
– Hello.
Rebeca. Hi. Sorry to bother you.
His voice, soft, confident, false.
What do you want, Garrett?
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