Adela's Class
Copyright© 2026 by OmegaPet-58
Chapter 3: The Call
PAOLO
The kitchen phone rang precisely at 7:00, and I put it to my ear and said, “Hello, Adela.” Almost immediately, I lost control of the call. Giulia rushed up and shouted, “Hi, Adela, I’m Julie, he’s my dad, and I have a great idea.”
Adela was caught off guard. “Oh. Oh! Say hello to Julie for me, and ... Paolo, why don’t you hand her the phone so I can speak with her directly.”
“All right.” I handed over the phone, and my daughter took over. I could only hear her side of the conversation, of course.
“Dad told me about your car trouble and that he probably couldn’t fix it for you.”
“Right, I know you didn’t ask him to fix your car. From what he said, it’s barely running.”
“Yeah, it’s a problem. He’s very shy and he worries too much. Ever since he became a single father, he’s ... maybe he should speak for himself about that.”
“Here’s my idea. If the car dies while you’re driving, you could be stuck somewhere, right? Somewhere where there might be risk or danger. That’s not acceptable. Not to me, not to him. My idea is simple. Dad picks you up at your home, you carpool to your class, and he brings you back afterwards. What do you think?”
All through her monologue, I was pacing the kitchen nervously.
Suddenly, Giulia turned her back to me and lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. I could still hear her, though.
“I promise you, Adela. My father likes you, he’ll be happy to do it. If you saw his face right now, you’d know how he feels.”
Her voice rose back to normal levels. “I’m going to give back the phone. It was nice talking to you, Adela. Here’s my dad.”
I said, “Adela, I’m sorry for ... everything. You’re sure? Raise her allowance?” My daughter reacted strongly to that. “No, she has a job. I guess I need your details, and some help with the navigating. No, my mobile phone doesn’t—well, I can’t work it. Giulia, write this down for me. Parkway west to Carson. Turn left. Go ten blocks on Carson, then right on Orchard for three blocks, then right on Walnut. Her address is 1763 Walnut, a yellow house. And what time should I pick you up? Understood, six o’clock.”
I listened for a bit. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you, Adela. No, really. Not even the gasoline. Honestly, I’d enjoy the conversation. That’s all I want. We can do a new idiom at every red light. Oh, wait, what’s your phone number? 387-767-2676. Mine is 387-932‑8437. The other number I gave you, this number, is for my kitchen phone. Yeah. Giulia says you can call her here anytime and hear her talk about me behind my back. Yeah, she’s 20—but also 14 sometimes. Yeah, I’ll hug her for you. I’ll see you at Walnut Street at six. All right, goodbye.”
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