Chapter 41 - nora asked why i still called carlo my brother
At fourteen, Nora found me writing Carlo’s birthday card.
Yes.
I sent birthday cards now.
Life was strange.
“Why?”
She asked.
“What?”
“You call him brother.”
I stared at the card.
Dear Carlo—
No:
Brother.
Still.
“I suppose because he is.”
“But you don’t act brother.”
“What does brother act like?”
She thought.
“Dad and Uncle—”
Luca had no brother.
She stopped.
“Fine.”
She looked annoyed.
“You know.”
I did.
Close.
Trust.
Holidays.
Calls.
History.
Carlo and I had some.
Not all.
Nora sat across from me.
“Would you help him if he got sick again?”
“Yes.”
“Would you let him live here?”
“No.”
“Would you lend money?”
“Depends.”
“Would you let him babysit me?”
I laughed.
“You are fourteen.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
“Then brother is just fact?”
Sometimes.
Sometimes memory.
Sometimes grief.
“Relation can be fact without being permission.”
Nora thought.
“Like family tree dots.”
Exactly.
“You remember that?”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
Then she asked:
“Did you ever forgive him?”
No.
Maybe pieces.
I looked at my hand.
Scar nearly invisible now.
“I stopped wanting him punished every day.”
“That’s not forgiveness.”
“No.”
“I can speak to him.”
“Remember good things.”
“Hope he has a decent life.”
“And still wish what he did never happened.”
Nora listened.
“What word?”
“I don’t know.”
She smiled.
“Complicated.”
“Unfortunately.”
Then:
“Does Dad forgive?”
“Ask him.”
Good.
Nora rolled her eyes.
Everyone hated respecting ownership of other people’s emotions.
She stood.
Then stopped.
“Nonno?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you kept Carlo as brother because Grandpa told you family loyalty matters?”
My body went still.
My father’s letter.
If family loyalty ever begins to feel like fear.
“No.”
Then I reconsidered.
“Maybe for years.”
“Now?”
I looked at the card.
“No.”
“Now I write because I want to.”
That was the test.
Choice.
Not title.
Not blood.
Not fear.
Nora nodded.
“Good.”
May you like
Then stole the stamp off my desk.
Apparently property boundaries remained underdeveloped.
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