94. Tiny Troubles

Date Written: November 10, 2020

Date Posted: December 11, 2020

Characters: Veneziano

Summary: A young mother invites her neighbor, a young artist, to her apartment for some breakfast.

Notes:


The dark morning sky was not something that the young woman was well acquainted with. Although it was still quite early, the faint hues of distant sunlight was slowly making itself known. As the palette of dark blues and light violets made room for a deluge of rose pinks, oranges, and bright yellow to emerge with the arrival of the early morning sun, the young woman bustled around her small apartment.

In a few moments, if the schedule was to be followed then—

As if on cue, the cries of a newborn infant rose and keened through the air. Despite the early morning and her residual sleepiness from night after night of doing the same thing, the woman still smiled. Hurriedly, she crept inside of the child's nursery, the cries becoming more and more louder as she finally reached her child.

In an instant, the woman cradled her child close to her body and then allowed her shirt to fall open for her child's early morning breakfast.

The baby squalled, but instantly quieted once she latched onto the young woman's nipple. Cooing gently, the woman walked out of the nursery and into the kitchen area. Here, she managed to pour herself a cup of water, as if mirroring the feeding that she was giving her child. The process, while difficult and strenuous, had still come into fruition for her.

Soon, after her milk had run dry and her baby had long since decided to rest, the woman decided to have a look outside. She walked out onto her apartment's balcony, the sight of the peeping sun caressing her face gently. All around her, the sleepy residents of her town began to rise for the new morning.

Blissful and full of love for her child, she carefully sat down on a chair, making sure to support her child's head. As she watched the sun climb higher into the sky, she heard the sound of footsteps from the apartment beside her own. She happened to glance up and saw that it was that one secluded artist who sometimes entertained foreign company.

On most days, whenever she would have the time, she would see him approach his balcony, easel and brush in hand and he would paint. Sometimes, if she wasn't taken in by shyness or too busy with minding the baby, she would ask to see his art.

No matter the subject, no matter the medium, the young woman always found herself entranced. His brush strokes were always immaculate, always filled with passion and zest for life. Even the paintings he had claimed to be only for fun and for experimentation—dull pieces, he had told her with a firm shake of the head—she still found them beautiful.

Today, he held not an easel or a sketchpad, but a plate filled with biscotti and a piping mug of what she assumed to be coffee. At the sight and smell of a feast, the woman's stomach growled and she sighed. It was probably around that time she should get back inside and—

Her neighbor next door held out the plate filled with biscotti in her direction, the smile on his face more than well knowing. Likewise, a small smile grew on her face as she angled her head towards her own apartment as she asked, "Care to spare a poor woman some food?"

The young man nodded, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Gladly, milady."

At that, the woman bustled back into her apartment, tidied just a little bit, and then hurried towards her door. There, she found the young artist with his fist poised, ready to knock on the door. Bemused, the young woman allowed the artist inside of her home, offering pleasantries and even allowing him the honor of holding her child while she placed the plate of biscotti on the table while readying some coffee for the adults.

Once that was over, the both of them settled onto the table as the young man carefully gave the baby back to her mother, a smile on his face all the while.

"She's a little awake early this morning, cara," he murmured. A peaceful and caring expression settled onto his face as he watched mother and child settle against each other. "I hope the little bambina hasn't been stopping you from getting sleep, has she?"

The young woman laughed as she happily took one of the many biscuits into her mouth, careful not to jostle her child too much.

"Not more than usual, Giacomo," she laughed. "What has awakened you so early for today? Usually, you sleep in until much later." The young woman patted her child's back, prompting her to burp.

Giacomo rubbed the back of his neck, as if embarrassed to be caught like that.

He sighed and answered, "Unfortunately, I have some concerns at work that I must be dealing with." His eyes looked so lost and sad that the young woman couldn't help but place a warm hand on his arm to soothe him. Maybe it was her maternal instinct roaring to life, but she didn't want to see her neighbor look so sad.

"Is there any way that I can help?"

Taken aback by her lovely nature, the young man shook his head before this gaze rested on the sweet child that lay on the young woman's shoulder.

"Actually, the reason I do my job is so that I can help others like you." He paused, as if trying to discern what he should say, what he should hide. He never did quite tell her where and who he worked for. "Every day, for the past few weeks, I've been seeing glimpses of you taking care of your child with the utmost care and love I've ever seen. I want to do the same for my own children."

The young woman softened, a shy little chuckle leaving her lips.

"But, Giacomo, you need an actual child to take care of!"

The young man smiled. "That may be so, but still—" He rested one hand on the young woman's head and the other on the child's downy hair. "—I kind of think of you as my own."

As the young woman's face colored slightly and her mind aflutter with confusion, the young man pulled out more biscotti for the both of them to enjoy and eventually coaxed the young mother into allowing him to cradle her baby deep into his warm arms.

"It's not trouble at all," he assured her. "All children are dear to me, after all."