The Language of Sparrows by Rachel Phifer

Author:Rachel Phifer
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Family Relationships, Photography, Gifted Child, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780781410489
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2013-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

April threw herself into work over the next few days, but no amount of arranging sculptures or designing sales flyers could keep her thoughts free from him—the sound of her name in Nick’s deep baritone, the feel of Nick’s hand on her shoulder, his kiss. She looked forward to seeing Luca on Monday, and not only for his sake. Somehow being close to Luca made her feel close to his son. Adolescent thinking perhaps, but there it was.

When she walked into Luca’s home, she felt confident. The first bit of his story had gone well. There were no traumatic revelations. Luca himself even seemed to enjoy the memories. One point of anxiety needled at her confidence though. Eventually the story must turn toward prison.

Late February had brought in a hint of spring and lifted her spirits. Luca led her outside to the backyard where they sat next to his garden. Cool sunlight filtered through the pine trees, lending a soft edge to the day. Hummingbirds flew madly around a feeding glass.

As she settled into a patio chair, she searched for features of Nick hidden in Luca’s face. Nick had similar eyes, but Luca didn’t turn them on her like a force. Something about their faces was alike, but Luca had decidedly European mannerisms. The most striking similarity was difficult to define. The way they looked straight out, as if life were coming at them head-on and they’d need to be ready for the impact. Only, Nick appeared ready to charge into the fray, whereas Luca inched away as if he could miss the onslaught.

He glanced at the hummingbirds and closed his eyes. His lids were blue. His hands lay heavily on his knees. When he didn’t start the story, April began to doubt herself.

“It’s a more difficult part today?” she asked softly.

“My years with Tatia and Nicu were the happiest of my life. But it is these years I have questioned the most. If …” He inhaled deeply. “If. It is a useless word, no? You cannot make different decisions than the ones you made. You cannot make other people be other than what they were.”

He leaned back in his chair. His eyes grew dim as he went into his memories.

“Nicolae was born just one month after our first wedding anniversary, and Tatia and I were both filled with such joy. I held our son to my chest, and he liked it there. Tatia said he liked the rumble of my voice when I spoke to him.

“When I held him—so fragile, so small—I knew I must commit him to the care of God. But like my parents before me, I said my prayers over him in secret.

“I soon obtained a position teaching secondary students. We were happy, and I put my worries aside.”

April thought of the little boy in the picture at Nick’s home. “How old was Nick when you went to prison?”

“Four. I believe the only memories he had of me are the ones Tatia remembered for him. I do not think he recalls trailing at my heels like a small shadow.

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