**********
She was very hyper already. She ran from one side of her room to the other, moving items from one place to another, resembling a toddler version of Frank running around in the kitchen. Her room was big, bright, and full of all sorts of toys. She didn’t play with her toys in the same way that Silvia remembered playing with her toys as a child. She seemed much more interested in rearranging them than actually playing with them, and also liked showing off this skill to her aunt. She had a big smile on her face as she did her rearranging, and if she could talk, she might say, “Look what I can do! Isn’t it great?”
She was a very happy toddler, indeed, and why shouldn’t she be? She was extremely fortunate and privileged, belonging to a very wealthy family, being in perfect health, and having seemingly inherited Doug’s cheerful disposition and Angie’s looks. But it was something more than these things that made her happy, as she didn’t have any concept of her wealth or looks or health. Her mind was pure and empty, not overcrowded with information and polluted with fears and regrets. She, unlike her mother, was free. She seemed content just to be, and Silvia felt a strong desire to be a part of the universe of simplicity and freedom that her niece inhabited.
Silvia could also see how very malleable this little person was, and she had a desire to help shape her. She wanted to fill her with good things. She wanted to show her how to draw, paint, and maybe even sculpt when she was a little bit older. But for the time being, it would be enough to show her how to make something simple, like a drawing of a cartoon-like sun, a tree, or a house. She looked around the room for a drawing pad, but found none. So she found a small box that contained a toy and took the lid off, revealing its plain cardboard underside. This would have to due as a surface. She always carried a pencil with her, which she took it out of her back pocket, and began drawing a picture of Isabella on the box. Even with a simple pencil and a piece of cardboard, Silvia’s drawing was superb.
After about one minute, Isabella grew interested in her aunt’s pursuit, and sat down next to her with the most curious eyes Silvia had ever seen. So she put the pencil in her niece's little hand, very gently held her hand around the pencil, and guided it along to make a simple drawing of a face consisting of a circle for a head, two almonds for eyes, a triangle for a nose, and a half circle for lips. They then made curls on the head of the person. When the drawing was complete, Isabella was overjoyed and ran to her bedroom door saying “Mama! Mama!” Her excitement was too much to contain and her shrill little screams woke her mother, who came into the room to see the drawing she had made.
“Oh, that’s really nice Isabella!” Angie said looking down at her daughter. She then looked graciously at her sister, and told her that she would get her some real paper for them to draw on. Isabella and Silvia spent what was left of the afternoon drawing, while Angie lay on the floor next to them, half watching them and half sleeping. Around six, Angie asked Silvia what she wanted for dinner.
“Don’t we have to wait for Doug to come home for dinner?” asked Silvia.
“He works really late. And goes in to work really early. Sometimes, he even sleeps over at his office. In fact, you probably won’t even see him this visit. I only really spend time with him on the weekends.” She said all of this like she was perfectly fine with being married to someone who was rarely around.
Silvia went back to thinking what she might want for dinner and recalled the time that Angie used American cheese to make eggplant Parmesan. So she told Angie to just make something simple, secretly hoping that her sister would suggest that they order out, but Angie insisted on cooking and proceeded to ask Silvia about her dietary requirements.
“I’m still vegetarian,” said Silvia.
“So you still don’t eat meat?” asked Angie.
“Or fowl or fish or eggs,” said Silvia, hoping that her vegetarian diet might discourage her sister from wanting to cook.
“Jesus, what do you eat?”
Silvia laughed and told her sister, “It used to be worse. I was vegan for a year, and I had no dairy at all.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Don’t go through any fuss for me. Really, I can just have some bread and butter or something.”
Angie stared back at her sister as if her suggestion was completely absurd. She then said that she knew just what to make, and went downstairs to the kitchen carrying Isabella and signaling for her sister to follow. Silvia fed Isabella baby food from a jar, while Angie cooked, and in less than an hour the two girls were eating pasta fazool that, to Silvia’s surprise, was really good. It was even delicious. She was hesitant to ruin her wonderful eating experience by bringing up Cosmo’s presence at the family gathering, but she knew she had to, at least, attempt to smooth things out between them before they saw each other. Not sure how to bring it up, she blurted out, “You know I bet Cosmo’s nervous about seeing you.”
“Well, he should be. I asked him to be the godfather of my daughter and he turned it down. And then he said some bullshit about being an atheist or something.” She looked down at her spoonful of soup as if she was mad at it.
“Agnostic.”
“What?”
“He’s agnostic, not atheist.”
“I don’t know or care what the difference is. Him saying ‘no’ to accepting that honor had nothing to do with his beliefs.”
“Well then, why do you think he said no?”
“Because he never liked me. That’s why!”
“Angie, he loves you. You’re his sister.” Silvia stared so strongly into her sister’s eyes that Angie had to look away.
“You can love someone and not like them,” Angie said, still looking away from her sister.
“He’s never given me any indication that he doesn’t like you,” Silvia lied. “And I believe he really didn’t want to be Isabella’s godfather because of his beliefs. And who knows? Maybe he thought that she would be better off with a godfather who would remember her birthday every year, and get her nice gifts, and you know, someone who could be there for her.”
“Well then, he should have told me that.”
“Yeah, but you know that’s not his style,” said Silvia, scooping the last bit of soup up from her bowl.
“Then he should have apologized to me.”
“I thought he emailed you, and you never emailed him back.”
“Well, he didn’t apologize in any of those emails,” she said indignantly.
“Again, that’s just not his style. I’ve never gotten an apology from him for any of the times he was a jerk to me. You know most people don’t even know how to say sorry. It’s tough to say sorry.”
Both girls stayed silent for close to a minute, allowing Silvia’s last words to weigh heavily in the air and resonate with Angie, whose facial expression turned from one of indignation to one with a slight bit of understanding. Silvia said all that she could say in Cosmo’s defense, and didn’t mention him for rest of the night. The rest was up to Angie.
**********
The next morning, Angie woke Silvia at eight o’clock. After showering and having a simple breakfast of oat bran flakes and blueberries, she said goodbye. When she began to walk away from them and towards her car, Isabella began crying and reaching out. Silvia came back to her little niece to console her and to promise her that she would see her very soon. And indeed it would be soon. Vince’s graduation was in a couple of weeks.
Olive Branches Don't Grow On Trees Page 17