Chapter 9 – The House With The Blue Door
“I don’t want to go.”
Rosie stood beside the restaurant’s coatroom bench, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
Gabriel had come to take her for their first afternoon together at the Willow Street house.
Vanessa was standing beside him.
Nobody was arguing.
Nobody was making demands.
But Rosie looked frightened.
Her little purple cardigan was buttoned crookedly, and she had one hand wrapped around the brass key.
Gabriel knelt in front of her.
“That’s okay, sweetheart.”
Rosie looked confused.
“It’s okay?”
“Sure. We don’t have to go today.”
She glanced toward Vanessa.
“But Mommy said we’re going.”
Vanessa crouched beside her.
“We can change our plans, honey.”
Rosie looked at Gabriel.
“Will you be sad?”
He smiled gently.
“A little, because I like spending time with you. But I won’t be upset with you.”
I watched the little girl’s face soften.
She seemed surprised that an adult could be disappointed without making her responsible for it.
Then she asked, “Can Miss Hannah come?”
I looked up.
Rosie nodded.
“You helped me when I was hungry.”
My throat tightened.
Gabriel looked toward Luca, who had been watching from the dining room entrance.
Luca smiled.
“Hannah gets to decide that.”
I thought about the girl I’d found crying on that bench.
Then about the father who was trying to learn how to be part of her life again.
“I’d be happy to visit for a little while.”
Rosie smiled.
“Okay.”
An hour later, we arrived at the little house on Willow Street.
It was nothing like the Moretti mansion.
Two stories.
Blue front door.
White porch railing.
A small maple tree leaning over the sidewalk.
The paint needed touching up, but the flower beds were neat.
Luca had been paying someone to maintain the place all these years.
Gabriel stood beside the front steps.
“Ready?”
Rosie looked at her mother.
Vanessa nodded.
“I’m right here.”
Gabriel opened the door.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of furniture polish and old wood.
There was a small living room with a fireplace.
A narrow staircase.
And a kitchen with yellow tiles.
Rosie stopped in the doorway.
She looked around.
“Is this where I lived?”
Gabriel nodded.
“When you were little.”
She pointed toward a window.
“Did I sit there?”
He smiled.
“All the time. You used to watch the birds.”
Rosie seemed pleased.
Then she looked toward Vanessa.
“Did you live here too?”
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“Yes, baby.”
“Were we happy?”
The question surprised everyone.
Gabriel looked toward Vanessa.
She wiped her cheeks.
“Sometimes we were very happy.”
Gabriel nodded.
“We loved you very much.”
Rosie considered that.
Then asked, “Why didn’t we stay?”
Vanessa took a breath.
“Daddy and I had some grown-up problems. We didn’t know how to fix them.”
Rosie frowned.
“Like when my crayons break?”
Gabriel smiled sadly.
“A little.”
She thought about that.
Then shrugged.
“Okay.”
Children sometimes accept answers that adults spend years struggling to understand.
But she wasn’t finished.
She wandered into the kitchen.
Near the window stood a small wooden stool.
The paint was faded.
A little yellow star had been drawn on one side.
Rosie stopped.
“What’s that?”
Gabriel smiled.
“That was your stool.”
“Mine?”
He nodded.
“You used to stand on it while I cooked.”
She touched the star.
“Did I draw that?”
“You helped me.”
He laughed softly.
“You kept putting yellow paint on my hands.”
Rosie giggled.
Then she climbed onto the stool.
Gabriel immediately steadied it.
“Careful, sweetheart.”
She looked toward the stove.
“Can we make noodles?”
His eyes filled.
“Absolutely.”
Marco had packed ingredients for a simple lunch.
Fresh pasta.
Butter.
Parmesan.
A loaf of bread.
Gabriel began heating water while Vanessa helped Rosie wash her hands.
For a few minutes, the kitchen felt peaceful.
Then Vanessa opened a cabinet.
She stopped.
Inside were two chipped coffee mugs.
One blue.
One white.
She lifted the white one.
“I thought this was gone.”
Gabriel looked over.
“You bought it when we first moved in.”
She gave a sad smile.
“It was the only matching thing we owned.”
He looked toward the blue mug.
“Mine broke.”
“You kept it anyway?”
He nodded.
“I couldn’t throw it away.”
Vanessa stared at him.
For a moment, I thought she might say something about getting back together.
But she didn’t.
She put the mug carefully on the counter.
“Thank you for keeping it.”
Gabriel nodded.
Then he turned back toward the stove.
Some things could be remembered without being repeated.
After lunch, Rosie wanted to see the upstairs bedrooms.
Gabriel took her hand.
Vanessa followed.
I remained in the kitchen with Luca, who had come to check on the house.
He looked around the little room.
“I used to hate this place.”
I turned.
“Why?”
“Gabe moved here because he said he couldn’t breathe in the mansion anymore.”
His voice softened.
“I thought he was rejecting the family.”
“Maybe he just wanted something quieter.”
Luca nodded.
“I understand that now.”
He touched the edge of the kitchen table.
“I should have visited.”
I looked at him.
“You’re here today.”
He smiled faintly.
“Yeah.”
Upstairs, I heard Rosie laughing.
Then a sudden silence.
A moment later, Vanessa came down carrying her daughter.
Rosie’s face was pale.
Gabriel followed, looking worried.
“What happened?” Luca asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“Nothing. She got upset when she saw the bedroom.”
Rosie looked at her father.
“Is that my room?”
Gabriel nodded.
“It used to be.”
“Can I come here again?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She hesitated.
“Do I have to sleep here?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“Not tonight?”
Her shoulders relaxed.
Gabriel knelt beside her.
“You can come for lunch, or to play, or just to say hello. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Rosie looked relieved.
Then she reached into her cardigan pocket.
She took out the old brass key with the faded green ribbon.
She held it toward Vanessa.
“Mommy?”
Vanessa crouched.
“Yes, baby?”
Rosie looked toward the blue front door.
Then back at her mother.
Her bottom lip trembled.
“If I sleep at Daddy’s house someday, will you still come get me?”
