When his dad finally arrives, Rizzo is excitedly introduces me in Italian.107Please respect copyright.PENANAfqGR6EJVy6
"I thank you for standing up for my boy and for waiting here with him, Perdere Madhuri. I have heard so much about you and Rizzo's other friends, particularly Saunders."
"Yes, Saunders and he are very close. They energize me throughout the day." I chuckle as Rizzo bounces on his toes.
"Calm down, Rizzo." Guiseppe reveals a medium sized square box from his bag. "So, here is your new custom camera, Rizzo." Rizzo unwraps a stunning piece of machinery with a clear exterior.
"WOOW!" I study all the inside guts usually concealed in a camera.
"Padre Gui's boss makes me custom camouflage cameras for my projects. I like to be up close and personal with my subjects." Rizzo points the camera at me just as the wind blows my hair into my face and twirls my loosely layered blouse softly about me. "Beautiful."
"Rizzo, you know better. Apologize, now."
"Sorry." Rizzo shows the picture to me. "Do you want me to delete it?"
To my surprise, the young woman on the screen is gorgeous---deep brown skin with brown eyes to match, thin pink lips, and long, thick wavy black hair.
"No, no. I like it. You are very talented."
He smiles. "A photographer is only as good as his subject."
Giuseppe scolds him in Italian, and Rizzo responds with a red faced nod.
"So, do you need a ride?"
I head back to the building. "No sir, I've contacted my mother. The wait shouldn't be too long, but I'll be fine in the office."
Rizzo grabs his backpack, heading to the car. "See you tomorrow."
"Gianrico, we will be waiting with Madhuri since she was kind enough to wait with you."
"Yes, Padre."
As we take our seats in the office, Ms. Clark presents us with water bottles; the nurse left snacks for both Rizzo and me. Scarfing down his granola bar, Rizzo bounds into the hall with his new device.
"I hope he has not caused you too much trouble, Perdere."
I swallow a chunk of granola, shaking my head. "He's so enthusiastic about life and super intelligent. How could anyone not like him?"
"Well, now, I wish more people had that opinion." He observes his son for a moment. "The boy's been clicking pictures by my side since he could walk good. It's kind of like his biggest passion, hard to get him to focus on anything else when he's working on a photography project. He puts his whole heart into it---maybe because it's the best of himself he has to give to the world. Maybe because it's the one of the only things in the world that he feels he can completely immerse his mind into and excel at---his talent and his comfort zone. Do you have that one thing that you love to do more than anything in the world?"
"Yes, I love to write."
"Now, imagine that your mind struggles to stay devoted and connect to most things, but there are the few things you can really do. You truly enjoy and understand them, are good at them, and can stay focused on them."
"Wow."
"That's how Rizzo feels. Ever since he was a curly red-headed bambino piccolo, he was toddling by my side." He laughs. "His family named him Rufino, but when I adopted him, I started calling him Rizzo---curly haired boy."
"Adopted?"
He stirs his water in the cup. "Yes, Rizzo is actually my nephew. He is one of five---two girls, three boys. Rizzo's family never understood him, perhaps were a bit ashamed of him. He was the youngest. He started talking late, and he was socially awakward and prone to wild tantrums.
"One day, I just scooped him up, took him on a hiking with me. I noticed how much he liked to to help me set up, so when he was about five, I set the camera in his little hands. 'Fallo,' I said, and he was a natural. With a little help, he was taking pictures bout as good as mine by the age of seven. By the age of nine, I took him to work with me. He liked to camouflage himself, getting up and personal with the birds and even people." He chuckles. "Have to watch him at sporting events. My boss took a notice, loved his pictures, and started designing camouflaged cameras for him in exchange for Rizzo's STUNNING live-action photos. The way he captures his subject in their natural way is phenomenal. He always seems to capture the right moment of flight, wind blow, etc."
"That's...amazing." I play with the paper around the half left of my granola bar.
"He struggles with some things and excels in others. Of course, you know that's a part of Asperger syndrome. He is in continuous therapy." He runs his fingers through his curls, and I immediately think of Rizzo. "I want him to live on his own."
"So you're tired of taking care of him?" Ms. Clark suddenly chimes in, and we both stare at her. "I sub in special-ed classes, and some parents I see---"
"By God no...Perdere Clark. Gianrico has been a blessing to me since the first day I scooped him up---he was two years old. I officially renamed him Gianrico because God has been gracious and noble for bringing us together. He gave me the best gift in that boy." He smiles softly at Ms. Clark's glassy-eyed gaze. "My mother always says during her labor with me, she had a vision of a little dove delivering a present, so she named me Giuseppe---for God will add. For a while, she thought it was the gift of me to her, but then when I became a man, she dreamed of my figure accepting the gift beside her. She knew it was a grandchild. Gianrico has been that gift to both of us."
I am surprised to feel tears streaking slowly down my face, and unchewed granola still rests in my cheeks. Suddenly the door opens, and I swallow hard, swiping away the tears.
"Hello, everyone. Maddie, are you ready, dear?"
"Yes, Emaye."
She takes the bottle of water Ms. Clark offers her. "Thank you, Ms. Clark, for staying with my daughter."107Please respect copyright.PENANADKMlTx3do4
Giuseppe stands up excitedly, towering over us. "Signora, so nice to meet you. You have a wonderful daughter."
She grins, putting a hand on my shoulder. "That's so nice to hear---any parent's wish. Thank you. I am Miss Konjita---Konnie, for short."107Please respect copyright.PENANA1rYhAqcCav
"Giuseppe Balistreri. My son is Gianrico."107Please respect copyright.PENANAVJ4JxnhsCG
Suddenly, Gianrico slips into the office, snapping a picture of my mother and me as he passes.
"Gian---"
"Oh, that's lovely," my mother notes, peering over Rizzo's shoulder.
"Emaye, I look so much like you."107Please respect copyright.PENANAYfHV37ghAo
She giggles and squeezes my shoulder. "I hope that is a good thing."
"It's a great thing." I point out her high cheek bones and beautiful almond shaped eyes highlighted by the golden eye shadow that matches her lovely traditional sari. "We are gorgeous."
Emaye laughs. "Thank you, Gianrico. Maddie, make sure you get a copy." She holds open the door. "Thank you again, everyone. We have to get going, Mou. I need to stop by the store."107Please respect copyright.PENANAXqTSqMWnfi
"Emaye, why did you call me by my daak naam?" I whisper as we get down the hall.
"Mou, you will understand someday." She kisses the confused wrinkles that crease my forehead.107Please respect copyright.PENANATWLhDxc9q9