Here the Whole Time(59)

“Caio!”

I hear a voice screaming, and in my heavy sleep, it takes me some time to determine if the voice is coming from inside my head or the real world.

“Caio!” the voice bellows again, louder this time.

Despite how loud the shouting is, what really wakes me up are steps in the hallway. Don’t ask me how, but in a split second I know exactly what I need to do.

I take one look at Caio sleeping by my side (beautifully, by the way), apologize in a whisper, and push him out of the bed. He falls onto the mattress on the floor, the loud voice yells, “Caio!” one more time, and he wakes up with a fright.

It all happens too quickly. Caio looks at me, one eye open, the other closed; looks at the door, still locked from the night before; and looks at me again, a little more nervous this time.

He gets on his feet, stumbles on something, and turns the lock, and when the door opens, there she is. Sandra, Caio’s mom. The woman with the shrill voice. My (I’ve always wanted to say this) mother-in-law.

My hair is messy, my face is all wrinkled, and the shorts of my pajamas show too much of my legs. But Sandra doesn’t mind, because in the blink of an eye, she’s already covering Caio with kisses. Many, many kisses.

“I missed you so much.” Kiss. “Your dad, too, but I missed you more.” Kiss. “We took so many pictures!” Kiss. “And we have something for you.” Kiss. “But it’s a surprise.”

The reunion lasts a few minutes, and I just sit there watching, half-embarrassed, half-happy.

Caio’s mom is different from mine in several aspects. She’s shorter, her hair is really dark (almost blue), and it probably takes a lot of time and dedication to make it look as good as it does. The way she’s neatly dressed and the way her makeup is flawless seem almost impossible for someone who just landed on a plane from Chile.

But above all else, she’s affectionate. In an exaggerated, loud way, perhaps. But one could never question that she loves Caio more than anything in the world. And in the end, that makes me smile.

“Are you all packed? Shall we go home?” she asks.

“Yes, all packed,” Caio says, pointing to the suitcase in the corner of the bedroom.

And that’s when she notices me.

“Hi, Felipe, good morning! I’m sorry if I woke you.” She smiles. “How was the break? Did you two have a fun time together?”

You have no idea, Sandra is what I think.



From all the goodbyes in the house, it almost seems as though Caio is off to Hogwarts, not to the fifth floor of the building. I bring his suitcase to the living room because it’s the most affectionate thing I can do with his mom right there. The smell of coffee has taken over the apartment, and my mom tries unsuccessfully to organize the kitchen table so she can entertain our guests.

“Can I get you a coffee, Sandra?” my mom offers, grabbing a piece of clay and hiding it in the freezer.

“I can’t stay long, honey,” she says. “Mauro is coming upstairs with our suitcases. I just stopped by for a moment to get Caio.”

“Just a little cup. To relax after your trip,” my mom insists, as if it were a good idea to put caffeine in the body of a woman who just got home at seven in the morning, screaming her lungs out.

“I’m not about to say no to someone who looked after my child for two weeks, am I?” Sandra answers, sitting at the table and seeming uncomfortable when she catches a glimpse of the pair of breasts on one of the canvases my mom is painting.

I don’t know if this is normal for everyone, but I have the power to decipher my mother’s looks. All I need is one glance from her and I can tell if she’s happy, anxious, or annoyed at something I did. The look my mom gives me right now means, “Go into the living room. I need a moment alone with this woman.”

I nod to Caio (since he doesn’t have the power of deciphering my mom’s looks), and the two of us head into the living room together. We sit on the small couch, and he touches my leg with his.

“I miss you already,” he says softly, staring at the floor.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Caio,” I answer, and give his knee a little squeeze.

We go silent, trying to hear what our moms are saying. It’s not a very difficult task; it’s not like I live in a mansion. The kitchen is right there, and Caio’s mom is a loud talker. It’s almost as if we never left.

“Again, Rita. Thank you so much for having my son over. Mauro insisted I should leave him by himself, but you’re a mother, too. You know I would never forgive myself if something happened to him while I was far away,” Sandra explains.

“It wasn’t a problem. He was no trouble at all. Caio is a very good kid,” my mom says.

“Ah, I have no doubt about that,” Sandra says, full of pride. “The problem is bad influences, you know what I mean? One invite to a party here, then he starts spending the night over there. And then drinking, drugs …”

Caio laughs quietly, and I can visualize my mom doing her best not to roll her eyes.

“Caio seems to be surrounded by wonderful people. Friends that he loves very much,” my mom says, voice firm.

“I know. Mauro and I love our son more than anything in the world. But we can’t watch our children all the time, can we? And sometimes that’s scary, isn’t it?”