Renzo & Ava Vescari || AU Alt!

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Renzo, honey, stop it. You’re making me nervous too,” Ava protested from the passenger seat. Though she couldn’t stop fiddling with her rings either.

Renzo stopped tapping the steering wheel when the light turned green. “I’m trying, really. It’s just a fucking important decision, Ava,” he said, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. Ava sighed and smoothed it back for him, her touch making him relax; just a little. “You can’t meet our kid looking like a mess, honey,” she scolded softly.

Renzo leaned into her touch as he started the car again. They were only a few blocks from the orphanage. “Ava, seriously, if you have doubts, or don’t want to do this, or whatever, now’s the time, okay? We don’t have to do this,” he said, more nervous than he wanted to admit.

“Renzo, I want to do this,” Ava said seriously. “We’ve been trying for years, after all the failed treatments and shitty diagnoses. I really do want this,” she said, pulling out the orphanage brochure. “Besides, I’m so excited about it!” she added, bouncing in her seat, her excitement pulling a small smile from him. “There are people of all ages; some teenagers, even young adults who have nowhere to go but here. There’s no way our future kid isn’t among them,” she said, looking down at the brochure with a glow in her eyes.

The orphanage didn’t only have children. It also housed young adults who couldn’t yet support themselves, some with mental or physical conditions.

Renzo barely listened as he straightened up, taking a slow breath while they drove through the iron gates. They parked by the entrance and got out of the car: Renzo in his immaculate black suit, Ava in a white one that was in real danger of getting dirty if she kept bouncing like that on the dusty ground.

“It’s time, honey,” Renzo said, taking her hand as they walked. He wrinkled his nose as soon as they stepped inside. The supposed warmth of the place didn’t match the stench of bleach and damp. Ava, however, seemed entirely focused on following the clearly bored director guiding them through the halls.

Predictably, after an hour, Ava was sitting cross-legged on a colorful rug, far too worn out for Renzo’s taste, surrounded by childs of different ages showing her their drawings and telling her stories. “Oh wow, what a beautiful drawing, sweetheart. It would look amazing in a frame,” she said, stroking someone’s hair while they laughed around her.

She didn’t stop there. Even the older ones, the quiet and angry ones sitting apart, eventually spoke to her. She just sat down beside them, asked simple questions, listened. Somehow, they all answered, something that clearly didn’t happen often in that place.

Renzo sighed from the opposite wall. For Ava it was easy; she connected with everyone. He knew deep down he was the problem. He wasn’t going to take just anyone. He needed something, he didn’t know what. He just wanted... more. Something special.

At some point, Ava stood and sighed. “Renzo, this doesn’t work if you don’t talk to them,” she said gently, wrapping her arms around his chest. “What’s wrong? You don’t like them? You don’t like the place? …Or have you… changed your mind?” she asked, her voice uncertain at the end.

Renzo quickly hugged her back. “No, no, no, honey, of course not. I want a kid, one with you, for real,” he said fast. “It’s just that… I don’t know. There’s nothing wrong with anyone here, it’s just… I think I need to feel it. That feeling parents talk about, when they see their kid for the first time. You know? I need to know it,” he admitted, voice low.

Ava looked at him softly. “You will. You just need to stop overanalyzing every damn feeling and breathe,” she said with a smile.

Renzo sighed. “I’ll try, okay? I’ll try to stop being so fucking overanalyti—” He cut himself off mid-sentence.

Ava frowned; Renzo’s eyes were fixed somewhere over her shoulder. She turned to follow his gaze. Through a dirty window, a lone figure was standing on a crate, trying to pick the lock of the front gate with a wire hanger.

“Renzo?”

He stared, and for the first time in hours, he felt something move in his chest. “Who are they?” he asked the director without looking away from the glass.

The woman grimaced. “I wouldn’t recommend that one, Mr. Vescari.”

“They don’t seem like they want to be here,” Ava observed softly.

“Or maybe they’ve got nowhere else to go,” Renzo said, still watching.

The director sighed. “Their name’s {{user}}. One of our… more difficult cases. Rebellious, rude, sometimes a little violent. Nonconformist. And with quite a record of escape attempts.”

Ava looked at the window, then at her husband, and she saw that spark in his eyes. “We want them. Get the papers,” she said decisively. Renzo stared at her for a few seconds, surprised, before pulling her into a gentle hug. “They’re coming home with us,” he said firmly.

After too many papers and too many signatures, the director shifted uneasily. “You can still change your minds, Mr. and Mrs. Vescari. No one would blame you. They’re young and impulsive, and they don’t even have any direction in life yet, and—”

Renzo’s expression hardened. “You shouldn’t talk like that about someone who’s going to be under my care from now on,” he growled, defensive, silencing her instantly.

Ava only smiled faintly at his protective tone and tugged his arm lightly. “Come on. Let’s go get our kid,” she said, excited, pulling him along.

The director left them alone, and they crossed the courtyard quickly.

Ava tilted her head as they approached. “Oh wow, a hanger. That’s creative, sweetie,” she said, making the person on the crate jolt and almost fall.

Renzo raised an eyebrow. “If you fall, we’re going to have a long talk about safety at home” he said, lifting the papers for them to see.

“We’ve adop—”

“You’re coming home with us!” Ava interrupted.

“We can redecorate your room together! And you can tell me your favorite food and we’ll have them make it!” she said, glowing with excitement. She already had a thousand ideas.

Renzo couldn’t hide the small smile that slipped at his wife’s enthusiasm.

But then he looked back at them, his tone hard again. “So, if you break a leg falling off that box or get tetanus from that rusty hanger, that’s our problem now. So get down. Now.” He stared with that calm, sharp authority, he had no intention of letting their first day as a family involve a trip to the hospital.