Enzo
Louis invited everyone in the family to his house for his wife's birthday. In our house, I couldn't remember any of us ever having a birthday party at home. Juana sometimes celebrated her birthday with friends somewhere else. So this was the first time I was going to a family birthday party.
I didn't like Camille any more than I liked Louis. I had never even been to Louis's house, nor had I properly seen his triplets. I didn't even know what they looked like. Still, staying home was boring, and I was always looking for an excuse to leave, even though it wasn't easy. So, I decided to go to Louis's house despite how much I didn't like him.
Louis's house was as big as Pedro's and sat to the right of the Perez mansion, with Pedro's house on the left. The Perez mansion was the biggest of the three, with more land, too. But it didn't have many people living there, making it feel a bit lonely.
Inside Louis's house, it was decorated like a tacky birthday party. There were balloons that said "Happy Birthday," along with pink and red balloons scattered around, and flowers everywhere.
As I entered, I noticed the nannies with the three babies, all dressed in matching colors. One baby was a girl, and the other two were boys. The youngest had dark hair and eyes like mine, so I'd already decided he was my favorite. I picked up the baby who looked like me, and his name was Valentino.
"Hey, Valentino," I said, looking at his cute face. The baby gave me a look as if he didn't approve of me—but he didn't cry.
"You don't like Tio Enzo?" I asked, watching as Tino tried to explore my face with his tiny, smooth fingers. Then he started babbling something I couldn't understand—probably something no one could make sense of. I handed him back to the nanny and began exploring Louis's house, since it was my first time here.
I didn't know what Louis would think about me wandering around his place, but that was none of my business. I did what I wanted.
Louis.
When Camille lived at her father's house, she had never missed a single birthday party. In our house, after Mama died, no one except Juana had a birthday party. Papa always said birthday parties were pointless, so he didn't bother to celebrate them or even wish anyone a happy birthday.
Anyway, I decided to celebrate Camille's birthday since she liked it that way. There was nothing wrong with having a birthday celebration, though I wasn't really into that sort of thing anymore. I didn't see the appeal of having a crowd at your place, wasting time on small talk. But I was doing this for Camille. She invited some of her friends and family, too.
Pedro, Enzo, and Juana showed up at the party, but Papa didn't. He claimed he was "super busy today," though I knew that really meant he just wanted to avoid the party. I pretended to believe him. Camille didn't like Enzo much, calling him a brat. She complained that she'd seen Enzo picking up Tino and talking with him, worrying that he'd be a bad influence on the children.
"He's my brother," I finally told her after she went on and on about Enzo.
"I know. But that doesn't mean he's a good person," Camille replied.
"Do you want me to ask him to leave?" I asked, irritated.
"No, I just don't want him around the kids," she said.
"He's not harming the kids. He even plays with Pedro's sons sometimes. He'd never do anything bad to a child," I said, not understanding why she wanted to argue over something so trivial on her birthday.
"But he doesn't even know how to talk in front of adults," Camille said.
"Our kids are still small. They don't understand what he's saying, and he's only here for the party. You know he never comes here otherwise. Besides, he's not the one raising our kids—we are. And I know he'd never harm a child. You're just worrying for no reason," I replied, leaving her before my anger could boil over and ruin the party.
In the living room, Enzo was sitting on a chair, absorbed in his phone. The kids were with the nannies, so I had no idea why Camille was so worked up just because Enzo had held one of them for a few seconds.
Just then, Pedro's two little monsters came rushing into the house, yelling.
"Tio Louis!" they shouted, jumping at me.
"Hey," I said, hugging them. Kids like hugs, but I don't. I just hugged them to keep them happy. To be honest, most of the things I do—hugging, smiling—I don't do them because I feel like it. I don't have those kinds of feelings much. I just pretend so I look normal to others. Deep down, I don't feel much of anything. Well, I care a bit for my own kids, but I'm not about to act like Papa.
Pedro arrived with his wife, and Camille's friends and family trickled in a few minutes later. I felt a flash of irritation at Camille's siblings for arriving late. We'd given them the exact time, but they still chose to come fifteen minutes late, acting like they were special guests. I can't stand people who don't know how to show up on time—wasting others' time isn't funny.
Once everyone had gathered, we wished Camille a happy birthday, and she cut the cake. People mingled and chatted with one another—except for Enzo, who kept to himself, looking like he didn't care for anyone there. I saw others attempt to talk to him, but he barely responded with a few words. That was just Enzo; he'd never been much for people.
Meanwhile, Matteo and Carlos were bothering Enzo, climbing onto his lap, tugging at his hair, laughing loudly near his ear, and hanging onto his neck.
"You guys are so annoying. Why can't you go bother your Papa and leave me alone?" I heard Enzo say. The two of them just laughed like the little brats they were.
Enzo
The birthday party was so boring; I wished Louis hadn't invited me. He didn't even like me, so why did he bother? Maybe he knew it would be dull and wanted me to suffer.
While everyone was chatting with forced smiles, pretending they were having a great time, I slipped into a room to be alone. I wasn't in the mood for cheerful small talk, and I was terrible at faking happiness when I was feeling sad and down.
Looking around, I realized I'd wandered into the babies' room. The soft scent of baby cream filled the air. I walked over to the crib and saw all three of them sleeping peacefully. They looked so cute, and as I stared at them, Tino opened his eyes and looked like he was about to cry. I picked him up, trying to comfort him. It was nice being with babies instead of adults—babies don't talk, so there's no need to answer them. As long as they don't scream their heads off, they're alright. Luckily, Tino didn't scream. I think he liked me.
"Oh, Mr. Lorenzo. Is the baby awake?" one of the nannies asked as she entered, looking shocked to see me. She probably wasn't supposed to leave the room, and now it seemed like I'd caught her sneaking out.
"Where were you? You left the babies alone," I said.
"I'm sorry. I only stepped out for a minute," she replied, looking nervous.
"You're not doing your job right," I said, giving her a hard stare. "You might lose it."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," she stammered.
"Don't apologize to me. Tell Louis—the one who pays you," I said sharply.
I just wanted to scare her a bit.
