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[Lorenzo Castelli]
At just fourteen, Lorenzo Castelli had figured out that people seemed to prefer a child who could smile on cue rather than one who quietly watched from the sidelines, although he still didn’t quite grasp why that was something he needed to fix.
Five years had gone by since the dog incident, and the tale had grown wilder with each retelling.
It wasn’t even a tale within the house, now it seemed like even the outsiders knew about it.
One housekeeper claimed he had towered over the dog with a sickening grin, which was odd since he distinctly remembered being scared enough to shake.
Another staff member had suggested he harbored a collection of dead insects in his room, and while that was somewhat true, it left out that he gathered them for scientific observation, not for any grim purpose the household might have conjured up.
He had long given up correcting them.
Now at fourteen, he was taller, his features sharper, and his tendency to keep his thoughts to himself had become so well-known that even his teachers had started to interpret his silence as either deep thought, disgust or disapproval.
Most of his free time was spent in the library, where he found books much easier to navigate than people, enjoying the subjects that broke down complex ideas into clear points.
Unfortunately, humans rarely came with footnotes.
His older brother Dante, at sixteen, was already being prepared to take over the family...er...business, going to meetings with their dad and learning how to handle negotiations with other dangerous men like Frederick himself.
Dante was naturally suited for the role, exuding a confidence that made strangers feel at ease, while subtly reminding them of his presence.
Their father beamed with pride for him, and although Lorenzo didn’t resent Dante for that, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to be praised without having to first prove his worth.
Then there was Matteo, who at eleven showed no signs of wanting to act like a sensible person.
He took boredom as a personal affront, treated every closed door like a challenge to explore, and had recently decided that Lorenzo’s room was the perfect spot for his paper airplane experiments and dubious throwing techniques.
Lorenzo had warned him that the ceiling wasn’t a good target.
Matteo’s response had been to smash into a lamp.
Their father had not been impressed.
That morning, Lorenzo found himself in the library with a book in his lap when his mother walked in, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other carrying a small plate of sliced peaches.
Isotta Castelli was eight months along with their fourth child...finally, a girl they planned to name Calypso and she seemed more excited about having a daughter than he had ever seen her about anything.
She had spent weeks talking about names, cute dresses, blankets, and nursery decor.
Lorenzo suspected she would have bought an entire children’s clothing store if their dad hadn’t gently pulled her back to reality, reminding her the baby would eventually outgrow it all.
Right now, though, she was ignoring that logical point.
"There you are, my angel," she said warmly, placing the plate next to him. "I’ve been searching for you."
Lorenzo glanced at the clock. "I was in my room half an hour ago, Mamma."
"Yes, but before that you were in the library, and yesterday you were in the library, and the day before that...guess what? You were in the library."
"I enjoy reading."
"I’m glad to hear that, sweetheart, but I’m starting to think you’ll eventually grow roots and become part of the furniture."
He looked down at his book, wondering if furniture could reject visitors.
"I have lessons to prepare for, and Father asked me to go over some documents with him this afternoon."
"Your father can survive a few hours without your help."
From the doorway, Matteo chimed in cheerfully, "I told you he was hiding in here!"
Lorenzo briefly closed his eyes, contemplating if it was possible to pray to God to request for a quieter family.
Matteo rushed in, followed by their dad, who wore a bemused expression, clearly having heard the entire exchange but choosing not to intervene on behalf of his second son.
"We’re heading out today," Isotta announced. "The three of us are going to the amusement park."
Lorenzo stared at her.
Three?
Then he looked at Matteo, who was already beaming.
"No."
His mother raised an eyebrow. "I wasn’t asking."
"The amusement park is chaotic, noisy, and filled with people shouting too much."
"Exactly why we need you there," Matteo piped up. "Someone’s got to calculate how likely we are to die on the rides."
"The chance of your death goes up significantly if you ignore instructions."
"See?" Matteo turned to their mom. "He’s already excited."
"I’m not excited."
"You’ll need to leave your books behind," Isotta continued, clearly ignoring both of them. "Just this once, enjoy a day out with your family."
"I do enjoy my family."
Dante suddenly appeared behind their dad, clearly having overheard. "Since when?"
Lorenzo shot him a glare.
Dante chuckled. "Just curious...would love to see this historic moment."
Their father laughed, and even Isotta had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggles.
Lorenzo looked at all three of them and concluded he’d been betrayed by his own family, which was quite the achievement.
"Come with us, Enzo. Please," his mother said, squeezing his hand. "I’d love to spend the day with two of my boys before Calypso comes and flips our world upside down."
He looked into her face, saw the quiet hope in her green eyes, and suddenly his well-prepared arguments felt much less effective.
"Fine," he said, shutting his book.
Matteo threw his arms up in delight. "He said yes!"
"I said yes to joining you, not to taking part in whatever madness you’ve got planned."
"Of course, Enzo."
That overly cheerful agreement should have been a sign that the day would be exhausting.
Unfortunately, he was still young enough to think he could avoid some disasters with enough planning.
The amusement park was just as loud and crowded as Lorenzo had feared, with rides clanking overhead, kids darting between stalls, and the scent of fried food and cotton candy filling the warm afternoon air.
Within ten minutes of arriving, Matteo had bought a paper crown, lost it, and was convinced it had been stolen, even though Lorenzo had seen him place it on the head of a decorative statue and then walk away without a second thought.
"Your investigative skills are impressive," Lorenzo noted as Matteo rummaged under a bench.
"You’re supposed to help me, big brother!"
"I’m helping you understand the consequences of poor object management."
Their mother was laughing so hard she had to pause beside a railing, leaning against it with one hand on her belly, and Lorenzo immediately stepped closer to make sure she was okay.
"I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart," she reassured him, noticing his concern. "The baby is just reminding me she will eventually arrive."
"Excellent timing," Lorenzo replied. "She’s learned to interrupt conversations already."
Isotta gave him a fond look, and Matteo, having given up on finding the crown, leaned towards her belly.
"Calypso, if you can hear me, please don’t be like Lorenzo! He’s so boring."
"Your sister has been listening to you for eight months," Lorenzo countered. "If she inherits your personality, I think we should start praying for the staff."
His mother laughed again, and Matteo declared he would never talk to either of them again, though that promise lasted about four minutes before he spotted the carousel.
He insisted that Lorenzo join him.
Lorenzo pointed out that the carousel was really meant for kids much younger than either of them.
Matteo retorted that Lorenzo was fourteen, thus still a child, which left Lorenzo personally offended since he had been trying hard to convince everyone he was practically an adult.
Naturally, their mother took Matteo’s side.
So there Lorenzo found himself sitting while stone faced on a painted wooden horse while the carousel spun around to cheerful music, surrounded by thrilled children and parents who seemed to be having a great time without meticulously assessing the ride’s mechanics.
He clung to the pole for dear life.
Matteo, on the horse next to him, was laughing so hard he almost slid off.
Isotta was laughing when they passed her again, and Lorenzo decided if he had to endure public humiliation, at least his mother was genuinely enjoying herself.
After the carousel, Matteo...ever the one addicted to fun, dragged him to a game with small wooden targets and rings.
The stall attendant explained how it worked, and Lorenzo listened as seriously as if he were preparing for a big business deal.
Once the instructions were over, he pointed out the uneven placement of the targets and how the rings varied in weight, making the game less about skill than the attendant probably wanted customers to believe.
The attendant stared at him, dumbfounded.
Matteo groaned. "Can you please stop calculating everything for five minutes?"
"I could, but then you’d be whining when you lose."
Lorenzo won on his first try.
He won again on his second.
By the third attempt, the attendant wore the look of someone regretting giving the rules to a kid who seemed to instinctively know about angles.
Matteo was thrilled, although he insisted Lorenzo’s wins were suspicious and required an independent investigation.
"What would you like for your prize?" Lorenzo asked his younger brother, eyeing the shelf of stuffed animals.
Matteo instantly picked a gigantic bear that was so large it would probably count as a workout to lug around.
Lorenzo chose a small stuffed rabbit with soft cream-colored fur and a blue ribbon around its neck.
"For you?" Isotta asked when he handed it to her.
"For Calypso," he replied, as if it were obvious. Why the heck would he ever need or want an stuffed animal? "She’s going to need something from me to play with when she arrives."
His mother glanced at the rabbit, then back at him, her expression softening in a way that made him aware of how awkwardly he was holding his hands.
"Oh, Enzo."
"It’s just a toy, Mamma."
"I know, sweetheart."
She kissed his cheek and then pulled him into a careful hug, being mindful of her belly.
Lorenzo stiffened for the first second, as usual when affection surprised him, but then he let himself relax against her.
"My thoughtful angel," she murmured.
He looked away, feeling a warmth rush through his chest, muttering that the rabbit was the most reasonably priced option.
Isotta laughed because she knew him well enough to see through his practical explanation disguised as a compliment.
The rest of the afternoon flew by as they wandered from one attraction to another, sharing pastries and lemonade while Matteo tried to convince their mother he was old enough for the tallest roller coaster.
Lorenzo objected, pointing out that Matteo had turned pale just watching a test run, but Matteo was adamant that it was a normal reaction to anticipation.
It turned out that anticipation didn’t just apply to the thrill of the ride.
After it ended, Matteo came off with his hair all over the place and his hands slightly trembling, but immediately declared it had been the best experience of his life and insisted on going again.
Lorenzo looked at him, genuinely concerned. "Are you sure your brain is still working?"
"Better than yours!"
"That’s a pretty low standard."
Isotta laughed until tears formed in her eyes, and Lorenzo found himself watching her more than the rides.
She looked radiant in the afternoon sun, her dark hair blowing in the breeze, one hand resting gently on her belly as she listened to Matteo excitedly recount his adventures, embellishing more with each sentence.
There was a lightness in her laughter that he hadn’t realized he missed, and he wished he could bottle it up somewhere safe, away from any arguments, illnesses, or family obligations that could ever take it away.
He had spent so much time observing happiness from the sidelines that he almost didn’t recognize it when he was part of it.
Yet there he stood beside his mother, a stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm, listening to his brother complain that the roller coaster had been too short, feeling an unfamiliar warmth settling inside him.
Maybe the day wasn’t completely pointless after all.
After all, they were the parts of his life he could never be able to get back.