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Giovanni

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Erik is doing better. He doesn't avoid me as much, but I sense a certain restlessness in his movements as well. He is not one to be cooped inside a house with an invalid and a servant girl. He is in his prime and desires action, something to occupy his hands.

My foreman has just left and I sit in the drawing room, watching the fire and thinking. During all these years of my deteriorating health, I have refused to release the reins of my business. My mind is still sound, only my body fails me.

I had thought to originally allow Erik to take over the business but he left, so I improvised, found an expert foreman but he is considering leaving. I do not want to hire another stranger to run my business.

Footsteps draw my attention and I turn to see Erik approaching and sitting down in a chair near me.

"Is everything well with the site? I saw the foreman leave with a frown on his face." He asks, turning to me, his eyes curious.

"He wishes to leave, to move to another job site with another master mason which is closer to his wife's family. I have no one to replace him. No one under him is capable."

"Perhaps you could run an ad? Or mention it to other masons who might have an apprentice that might be able to take the place of their foreman?" Erik suggests, leaning forward. "Surely there is someone?"

"There is I have considered." I say quietly, studying him for a moment. Would he be offended if I offered him this position? He has been the master mason, ordering his foreman and workers about while building a palace for a shah. Would he be offended with the lower position?

"Who?" I might as well offer it. The least he can do is refuse me.

"I have been considering you. If you would be willing. I'm afraid it isn't the glory you had. When such a time as I'm unable to run the business, you will, of course, take over." He is shaking his head and standing up. if his mask were gone, I am convinced I could see his mouth hanging open.

"Me? Why me? I haven't been back more than a month! You wanted a trusted man in that position. Why me?" I sigh and gesture for him to sit. He does so automatically.

"Because I do trust you. You are a genius, Erik. A master with stone and mortar. You exceed me now, no doubt. The site will be in safe hands." He looks down at his thin appendages, shrouded in black leather.

"I cannot ask you to stay here forever and while away your hours with an invalid and his caretaker. You are still young, you require action and life. This is all I can give you now."

"Sir, it is more than enough. Far more than I deserve." I notice he tries to hide his boyish excitement.

"You may be happy. You don't have to hide your joy from me, my son." I drop the title kindly, giving him a smile. "I shall send for the foreman and inform he is allowed to leave, I have found his replacement."

His eyes are grinning.

"Sir, may I study the blueprints? So I may know what is expected of me? I hadn't thought yet to study them but I shall need to know them backwards and forwards. I shall need the employee lists, and to see the site. Study it as well." He rattles away, pacing back and forth and talking to himself. He is reanimated, his passion for his art growing in him. I wonder how he suffered without a chisel and mallet in his hands for so long.

"In my study. You may stay there and look them over." I answer him indulgently, as one would an excited child. His excitement is infectious though and, by the time he rushes from the room, I am smiling and happy as well, feeling youthful again.

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Erik

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I notice nothing as I nearly run towards his study where the blueprints wait for me. I wanted to stay with him, for our relationship to be as it was before I left. But, I have felt idle, restless. I wanted work, I wanted to ask him for work but it seemed too presumptuous to ask it of him.

It was always possible he didn't want me back to work for him.

I was no longer his apprentice but now, he wants me to control everything under him! If it were any other man, I would be offended at the lower position but, I do not care when he is my boss. I would never dream of asking for anything more than he is willing to give me.

I reach the study and quickly lay my hands on the blueprints, spreading them out on his neat desk and immersing myself into the lines and calculations.

Only to be jerked from my contemplation by an excited voice chattering something. I glance up and see Christabella looking at me as if I hung the world for her enjoyment alone.

"What?" I ask.

"You're going to stay? Signor told me that he gave you the foremanship position." Her dark eyes are bright and happy. I have no idea why she would be.

"Yes. I have no reason to leave now." I reply shortly, frustrated with her for interrupting me but I cannot be harsh with her. She has been kind to me, always smiling at me whenever she sees me.

"I'm so happy. I was afraid…" She trails off and blushes prettily. "I was so afraid that you would get bored with us and leave. I'm sorry for bothering you. Giovanni wants me to go fetch the foreman to tell him the good news." She grins brightly and leaves the study as quickly as she came.

I brush her existence from my mind and bury myself into the blueprints.

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Giovanni

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Erik resurfaces many hours later, his joy now at a calm simmer but nevertheless still inside him, despite that I sense a certain thoughtfulness filling him. But, Christabella doesn't notice and seems happier, lighter on her feet while she serves us and herself.

When she finally leaves, declaring the dishes must be done and that we have no doubt have business to talk about, I give Erik an encouraging smile and ask,

"How did you like the blueprints? Satisfactory?"

"They were good but there are several places for improvements. I shall look into the site and see what can be done." After he finishes his statement, he adds quickly, "If you do not mind."

"Not all. I would like for you to look at them. You are a genius, my son, a genius among geniuses. Your critique would be appreciated." He plays around with his napkin, twisting it about before speaking,

"Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?" I ask, though I know what he speaks of.

"'My son.' You've called me that many times since my arrival. Why?" He dares to look me in the eye.

"Because you are that to me. You always were. I never had a son of my own but I wanted one and, God provided me with someone's unwanted child for me to care for. I thank him for that."

"You don't hate him for not providing you with a perfect child?" He replies, his voice ever so quiet but I catch the words and the meaning behind them. Ah, I see the reason behind his question. I wondered when he would bring up the topic or if it would just sit between us.

"No. I never did. A father loves unconditionally. Your appearance didn't change my love for you. It still doesn't. I love you, my son." His hands move, shaking, to his mask and rest against the sides of his face.

"Thank you, sir." He is still uncomfortable and thoughtful.

"Is there something else bothering you?" I ask, leaning forward and watching him, waiting for him to speak.

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Erik

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"Forgive me if I am out of line but, sir, you…" I hesitate. How do I speak what is on my mind? "You are the only father I've…ever had. I…I love you, sir." My voice is choked. Does his affection only last as long as I keep silent? Perhaps it is an irrational fear but it is mine.

"Father." He says and I look at him curiously. "No more of this 'sir' business. Call me 'Father.'"

I hesitate. He is extending the greatest of honors to me. To be called his son is one thing but to call him "father" is another entirely. I manage to hold my emotions together and keep most of them from my voice except for my complete gratefulness.

"Thank you…Father."

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Giovanni

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I am an old man now. Quite old. My eight-five years are ancient for those of my craft. My chest still rattles a little though Erik's potions have worked miracles on my lungs. They may give me another five years at the most.

So, here I sit, on the balcony of my house, the balcony Erik fixed last month, ancient but not alone, content in the present, instead of living in the past.

My son has done so well for himself. Almost all the work of the business is his now. I am weakening almost by the day so more and more is passed to him as I cannot perform it anymore. His work is turning into his life though, I suspect Christabella might want more than just a passing acquaintance.

I really should speak to him about her.

She is still young and pretty and he deserves such a loving mate.

Our relationship has completely healed. A year after he first called me "father," he showed me his face, terrified of revealing it to me for fear that I would reject him. He is hideous, I won't lie but I still love him. He is my son, deformed or not.

He usually goes about without his mask around the house now. Christabella convinced him she doesn't mind after multiple attempts.

The girl is a treasure, he really should notice her.

I occasionally think of Luciana still, but not as often as I thought I would. She is still my favorite daughter and I still love her dearly but her memory has been softened, her death not as painful. Time does help heal all wounds.

A sound draws my attention and two shapes step onto the balcony; one my son and the other Christabella, both fetching me for supper. I hold out my hands and Christabella takes my left and Erik my right. I give them both a smile as they help me from my seat and into the house.

My wandering son has come home.