Chapter Text
It was a normal Monday morning at the Stark Mansion.
As always, Edwin Jarvis has awaken quite early and prepared the breakfast for himself and Mrs. Jarvis. He knew Ana loved to sleep longer than him, but he liked to think of her smile when she would have found her toasted bread with her favourite jam ready on her plate, together with two boiled eggs and tomatoes. While his wife was taking her breakfast, Jarvis probably would have already cleaned half of the main floor of the Stark Mansion, shortly after having served Mr. Stark in person his own breakfast (black coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon with mustard).
The script went on as always. Howard Stark mumbled something incomprehensible while he was eating his breakfast, and he came to life again only after a generous sip of his coffee. Jarvis knew him long enough to be ready to fill his mug again, although the doctor has suggest Mr. Stark to limit his coffees for the time being for a suspected heart disease. But Jarvis knew that that disease was not going to be cured be neither pills nor by coffee control.
The slow decline of Howard Stark has started five years before, immediately after he has come back from a business journey in Eastern Europe, when the possibilities of commercial relationships between East and West have opened some possibilities for Stark Industries.
Howard had left New York with his wife Maria, finally pregnant of their first (and, possibly, only) child. But less than a month later Howard had come back alone, without a single contract for his company, and, most of all, with his wife and their unborn child in a wooden coffin on the back of his private jet.
From that moment, the Iron Curtain that was still dividing Europe has fallen also inside Mr. Stark’s heart, and nothing seemed to chill him anymore, not even when his vice-CEO Obadiah Stane organized luxurious parties at his house on Saturday night. Howard went there like it was his duty, faked to enjoy every aspects of said parties like he did before meeting Maria Carbonell, and then he was driven back home by Jarvis on Sunday morning. Howard would remain in bed for the whole day, only to rise again like a robot in his business modality on Monday, ready to go to work at the company he cared more than his own or everyone else’s lives.
“There’s a board meeting this afternoon, then I’ll pass by Obie, so don’t make anything for dinner, Jarvis” Howard informed him after his second cup of coffee.
“I knew, Mr. Stark. Do you wish me to drive you at the company?”
“No, it’s not necessary, I’ll take the Pontiac!”
Jarvis said nothing but he was terribly worried every time Mr. Stark drove by himself. He didn’t dare to say it out loud but he feared his friend was going to end his life by driving himself down a hill or in the face of a trunk. That Howard Stark feared the same was evident by the fact he has never taken his private plane for a flight around: if he had to move by plane, he took his private jet with pilot and assistants, but his movements have also greatly reduced in the last five years. Actually, apart from a urgent business trip to Bulgaria, Jarvis couldn’t recall any other occasions involving a journey to Europe. Once he loved to go to France at every occasions, while Maria preferred Italy.
“I’ll clean the upper floor and your room in particular, if you don’t have anything in contrary, Mr. Stark” Jarvis told Mr. Stark that morning.
The master room smelled of closed space and maybe some rotten food forgiven God knows where. Jarvis was decided to clean it, but he needed to inform Mr. Stark. During the last times, Howard Stark has become a little obsessed by people entering his private spaces unannounced, and that included both Jarvis and Ana, despite they were more friends than servants.
As Jarvis suspected, Howard grunted. “If you have to… but don’t touch anything!”
“I’ll make the room take some air, change the sheets, and wash your dirty clothes around there, if you allow me!”
“Yes… yes, as you wish…” he mumbled.
“Mr. Stark, I have to remind you that you’re supposed to be in Malibu tomorrow. I’ve taken the freedom to book your jet. I’ve already prepared your luggage and send it directly to the airport.”
“Yeah, okay...” he rewarded his old friend with a soft smile. “As always, you’re the organized one!”
“I’m trying to do my best, Mr. Stark!” Jarvis replied with affection.
They knew each other for decades, and he could dare to say they were friends. Sure, Mr. Stark paid him (and he paid him well) and he and Ana lived at the guardian’s house but practically they ate and stayed at the Stark Mansion for the whole day. Jarvis could remember very well the afternoons spent with Maria and Ana talking about fabrics or the paintings to be added to the Stark collection. They both missed Maria a lot.
“You should take some holiday, old pal!” Mr. Stark said while he was about to get out the house.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Stark?” Jarvis asked, a bit astonished. “Holiday” was not a word in his vocabulary, not since he has entered Mr. Stark’s service, immediately after the war.
“Holiday, Jarvis!” Howard reply with an amused smile. But his eyes were sad when he said: “I’ll be in Malibu for about a week, or maybe more... it depends on the work! You should take your wife and go on holiday somewhere… why don’t you go back to her homeland? I’ll make a couple of phone calls and have your visas ready in no time, old pal!”
“T-that’s an excellent idea, Mr. Stark!” Jarvis was really astonished by this turn in his humour. He slightly wandered if Mr. Stark was up to something in Malibu to send them so far away… of if he just didn’t want to have to see them for a while.
Howard seemed to read in his mind because he replied: “Don’t worry for me, old pal! I’ve no intention to end up my life or something. I only need some time for myself… a change of air, you know?” he looked around sadly and added: “Every second I spend in this house reminds me of the life I wished to have with Maria… so I’m planning to stay in our Malibu labs for a while. Obadiah will come and stay with me for the first times. And then Peggy will be there as well, and maybe we could remind the good old days…”
“Do you mean when you were Public Enemy Number One or when the dark matter menaced to swallow reality?” Jarvis asked, but he was positive about this change.
Maybe after five years after Maria’s death, Howard was ready to move further, and an old friend would be ideal… not to mention the many temptations of Malibu!
Jarvis heard Mr. Stark greeting Ana on his way to his car. He knew that Howard was suffering every time he saw them together, like a constant reminder of what he has lost. He also knew that Howard blamed himself for what had happened to Maria, and in part that was painfully true.
If Jarvis and Ana have resigned of not having children after she has got shot years before, Maria and Howard were stubborn and they had kept trying, also because they wanted an heir for both their billionaire fortune and for Stark Industries.
“There should always be a Stark at Stark Industries!” Howard was used to repeat like a mantra.
Finally, Maria had managed to remain pregnant after years of therapy and illusions, and the pregnancy was going well, without many side effects. Jarvis remembered to have escorted Mrs. Stark and Ana when they’d gone shopping for the baby, with Ana also preparing him/her a nice dress for the baptism since Maria was catholic.
But then there had been that journey on different facilities across many Eastern Europe states: Howard Stark had been asked by the President himself to take this journey as part of a détente politics with URSS, but also to informally take a look around and inform him to the activities of the “enemies of the US”. The presence of Howard’s wife was necessary for the covering, and also because she was trained as well and could act with more freedom than him to collect information and pictures of the different sites. Despite being six months pregnant, Maria had accepted, eager of adventure and to be useful. And Howard was more than enthusiast of this journey, and he hadn’t listened to the many doctors suggesting to be careful, that it could be dangerous for the baby.
They’ve used Stark’s private jet against the doctors’ recommendation, but everything had gone fine: they’d arrived in Vienna, and after a couple of days and galas there, they’d moved to Czechoslovakia by starting with some facilities behind Prague. Jarvis and Ana had followed their journey on the news: the big refreshment in Prague, the official visit with the President, the journey on train to Krakow, and from there to Debrecen in Hungary, across Romania (Targu Mures, Bacau, Ploiesti and Bucarest) and finally Bulgaria and Serbia, before coming back to Budapest for a last huge party. Then they had planned to take the jet and go back to the USA.
The Starks were like a presidential couple, but the program was dense… really too dense even for a young couple, and for a pregnant woman it was going to be strenuous. Indeed, while the journey was going on, Maria Stark appeared more and more wasted, and she had been forced to skip some minor social events or visits to establishments to recover. Ana was in contact with her, even if they knew their calls were recorded, but Maria needed a friendly voice while she was left alone in their hotel room.
“She’s really tired, and Mr. Stark is pissed!” Ana had told Jarvis one evening after the usual call. “I’ve suggested her to precede Howard in Budapest and wait him there, but you know her…”
“As stubborn as her husband, dear Mrs. Jarvis!” he had joked, only to hide he was worried as well.
“By the way, tomorrow they’ll reach Sofia after 8 hours by train and they’ll attend the usual evening gala. Maria will be devastated, but she told me Howard has insisted so she couldn’t miss this party! She will rest the day after while he will visit three different facilities.”
But there was not going to be a party in Budapest for Maria Stark.
During the journey on the private train with officers and dignitaries, while they were approaching their destination, the train had stopped for a malfunctioning in the middle of nowhere. They had served lunch on the train, but after a moment Maria had started to feel bad and to retch.
As Ana and Jarvis would have known later, after some insistence they’ve sopped a farmer passing near the railways and taken his old car to drive Mrs. Stark to a nearby hospital since her conditions have worsened.
The hospital had revealed to be a convent’s infirmary, and the nuns couldn’t do anything but certifying that the woman was in very bad conditions and she was risking her life. A doctor had been summoned from a nearby village, but in the meanwhile Mrs. Stark had lost consciousness in the arms of the Mother Superior.
The doctor had suggested to try a desperate effort to save the baby, because it was clear that the woman was not going to recover. Jarvis didn’t know if they’ve tried and failed, or if they’ve wasted time because Mr. Stark hadn’t resigned to the destiny of his wife. All Jarvis and Ana knew from the news that evening was that Maria Carbonell-Stark and the baby she was carrying had died in a small village 50 miles from Sofia.
Devastated by his double loss, Mr. Stark had had to be recovered by the US officers based in Italy and escorted back to his jet, where he has boarded also the coffin with his wife and unborn child.
Jarvis remembered when he had collected Howard Stark at the airport and, for a moment, he hadn’t recognized him: it was like he had aged all at once and the sparkling genius in his eyes had been substituted by grief and sorrow.
They’d celebrated the funerals a couple of weeks later, after the secret services had asked to run some tests on Mrs. Stark’s rest: apparently she had been accidentally poisoned by a fish she ate on the train, and that united to her conditions and exhaustion had signed her destiny. Mr. Stark had not authorized a full autopsy on her or the baby, and he had also refused to see them one last time.
The days that had followed the funerals were among the ones Jarvis hoped to forget, especially when he had had to help Ana to put away all the things the two women had already bought for the baby.
“She wanted to name her Natasha if she was a girl… Elmonzo if he was a boy or maybe Anthony…” Ana had cried. All the unborn child’s belongings have been donated to charity .
After five years, that wound has never completely closed in all their hearts.
One after the other, Howard had put away all the pictures he had with his wife, especially the ones in which it was clear she was expecting. He had also moved from their common room to another one, and sealed the little nursery they’ve created, with planets and stars painted on the walls. Maria’s clothes and belongings have been donated to charity through the years, as it was in her last will, and only the big piano on the main floor of the Stark Mansion was a silent reminder that she had lived there: the musical score of the last song she had played, the one she had dedicated to her future baby, has been left opened and nobody dared to turn the page, not even Jarvis when he was cleaning.
Sometimes during those years, Jarvis had found Howard crying over that piano, his fingers caressing the keys like he was hoping Maria could come back to play for him.
That day, after Mr. Stark has gone away, Jarvis cleaned the living room with the usual care towards the score. He has left the windows opened everywhere: despite they were still in February, the temperature have risen and it was really warm under the sun. However the weather was really instable and after a moment Jarvis had to run and close every windows because of a wind storm.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.
The wind had made a mess around, including throwing the score away from the piano, destroying some vases and small glass objects that have fallen on the ground. If that was the situation on the ground floor, the mess was even worse in Mr. Stark’s room: the man has never been a master of order, and since when he has forbidden Jarvis to fix his things, the situation has exploded.
Now the butler had no other choice, but to close the window and to start collecting papers scattered on the floor and under the bed. It was really a mess and it took him a while to create different piles of the documents, by dividing them among projects, bills and checks, working notes, business cards (many business cards!), and private letters.
It was while he was ordering the correspondence that he came across a strange letter, that it has probably arrived quite recently since he was among the last projects and board notes. However, the date on it was of the previous year… so what was it doing there?
But what made Jarvis’s heart stop was the origin of the letter: it came directly from Bulgaria. It didn’t look like an official letter, because it had no sails and it has been handwritten by a careful writer, possibly a woman. The signature was indeed of a “Mother” something. A nun?
With trembling hands, and without thinking it twice, Jarvis read the letter that was written in a passable English mixed with some Latin (lucky for him, he has studied classics in Oxford many years before).
He had to read it five times to be sure to have understood correctly.
He sat on Howard’s still unmade bed, under shock.
He didn’t know how much time he stayed like this, but he was brought back to reality by his wife Ana when she came in the room, a bit worried for not having seen him for the whole morning.
“Mr. Jarvis, are you okay?” she asked, worried. “The phone has rung several times and you haven’t picked it up…”
“Y-yes, I- I’m fine…” he replied, still a bit shaken.
She looked like she got what was going on. “It’s because of this room, isn’t it?” she asked. “Maria loved this room, and she quite preferred this one to the main bedroom she shared with Howard. I wasn’t surprised he moved there after she passed away… poor man!”
“Poor man?!?” Jarvis almost spitted, by taking his wife aback. He immediately apologized: “I’m sorry, dear. It… it has been just a moment... who was on the phone, by the way?”
“Oh, the secretary of the secretary of Mr. Stark. She said our visas are ready for the journey, and she has also prepared the tickets of our flight… which flight, Mr. Jarvis? I didn’t know you were about to leave…”
Jarvis squeezed the letter he still had in his hand and stood.
“I’m not going anyway, my dear!” then he smiled and added: “Mrs. Jarvis, would you like to go with me on an holiday in the good old Europe?”
She widened her eyes in astonishment. “A holiday? Are you serious, Mr. Jarvis?”
“Damn serious, Mrs. Jarvis, if you forgive my language!” he came closer to her and passed a hand around her waist. “Mr. Stark has asked me to take some days-off while he will be in Malibu for a while, and I was thinking: when was the last time we had an holiday together? Wouldn’t you wish to come back home?”
“My home is where you are, Mr. Jarvis!” she pointed out by touching his nose with the point of her finger. “However, I won’t say no to a journey to Europe… maybe somewhere I’ve never been in and it’s actually a bit difficult to reach, like Prague or Bucharest or…”
“Sofia?” Jarvis proposed by trying to sound as casual as possible… and failing miserably!
He knew from her eyes she had got that there was something going on. But one of the main virtues of Ana was to leave him his space and time to deal with things, so she limited to look carefully at him before saying: “Why not? They say it’s a wonderful town and I’ve never been there! But only if you promise we’ll spend some time in Paris too! I need more fabrics…”
She kissed him on the lips and she quickly went away to prepare the luggage.
“You should called the secretary for the visas, though!” she shouted from the lower floor. “Apparently Mr. Stark didn’t remember I’m from Bulgaria and he has made them prepare documents for Hungary!”
Jarvis smiled at the perfection of his wife, before doing as requested. To joke on Mr. Stark’s lack of memory was easy… even if for once he had remembered correctly!
Since he was preparing the documents, Jarvis prepared other letters and paperwork they were going to need on their way back. He knew he was doing something slightly illegal, but that was not the first time and, for sure, it was not a thing it was going to stop him right now.
That same afternoon they were on a taxi leading to the JFK airport and then on a flight to Paris. From there, they would have taken another flight to Athens and then a third one to Sofia.
Ana didn’t utter a word regarding their journey for the whole time. She commented on the weather, the dresses and suits she saw in a magazine and in a French boutique she insisted to visit at the airport between one flight and the other.
In Athens their connection with Sofia was cancelled, and they destined them on an another flight two days later. Under Ana’s suggestions, they booked a nice hotel that faced the Acropolis and went there to rest.
“Isn’t it weird?” she asked that night while she was watching the moon raising behind the ancient marbles. “We appreciate so much the glories of the past, and we can’t deal with the present…”
Jarvis reached her and hugged her from behind. He inspired her scent for a while before mumbling her first name in her ears, like a whisper. She immediately got that the moment of truth has come, but, as always, she didn’t pressure him, and let him his time to tell her why they were rushing to Sofia in the middle of February, and why he has remained so silent for the whole journey.
And he told her everything: about Mr. Stark’s room, the wind and the letter he has found on the floor. He made her reading the same letter and he witnessed how she turned from astonished to mad and then to furious towards the man Jarvis has served for his whole life. It was a reaction Jarvis was expecting from her, and it was now his time to let her space to express her frustration and anger.
When she sat back on the bed next to him, he knew it was over (for the moment, at least).
She put indeed her head on his shoulder, like exhausted by that burst of anger.
“What are we planning to do, Mr. Jarvis?” she asked.
“The only possible thing to do, if you agree” he replied. Then he took her hands and asked: “Mrs. Jarvis, are you ready to finally have a baby?”
She widened her eyes and then kissed him on his mouth.
He took it as a yes.
Three days later they landed in Sofia in the middle of a snowstorm. To reach the small village from where the letter originally came from was not going to be easy. Another not so secondary complication was that no one there spoke English, and they looked at them with a bit of suspicion, even if Jarvis was travelling with his old British passport, and Ana was using her Hungarian one. Ana was indeed indispensable for communicating with the locals with a mix of French and Russian.
“My father’s favourite bakery was run by a Russian family” she revealed, by keeping her smile while she washed away a tear. “I guess I’ve learnt something I still remember…”
Jarvis knew it was terribly painful for her to speak about her past in Hungary, and of her family, since none of her relatives has survived the deportation into the Nazi camps. And she would have followed their destiny if Jarvis hasn’t disobeyed and risked an accuse of treason to save the love of his life… only two weeks after he has met her!
“I’ve managed to rent a car!” Ana informed him now, always with her beautiful smile on her face. “And a nice young man has given me indications to reach the convent we’re heading to. It’s a long journey so it’s probably better if we leave tomorrow. Have you taken what we need?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jarvis. All documents have been carefully prepared and they are ready for inspection!”
“Very good, Mr. Jarvis. Now let’s go back to the hotel and have dinner: they had their special Kurban chorba on their menu tonight. I’m sure you’re going to love it!”
Jarvis was not fully persuaded but he said nothing: among the many other things Ana was enthusiast for, traditional food was one of her favourite and she loved the traditional cuisine of every country… Great Britain excluded, but that was only because they didn’t properly have a traditional cuisine if one excluded the pastry and the obsession for tea!
The following morning they went out very early, and Jarvis had to drive carefully on the iced roads, and then on the countryside, with Ana leading him with a map. They took the wrong way twice because some crossroads were not on the map, but around 11 they’ve reached a nice village and she managed to ask for directions to the convent, despite Jarvis was pointing out it was clearly visible because of the bell tower. They were lucky to have asked, because the entrance of the convent was different from the one of the orphanage, which was where they were directed.
Ana squeezed his hand while they were ringing the bell at the orphanage: they could already hear the voices of different kids calling each other, and their hearts were rushing at the idea that soon one of these kids would have become their son or daughter.
The nun who opened the door was very young but she spoke a good French. She introduced herself as Sister Mary and she said she would have guided them to the Mother Superior who was also the director of the orphanage. She also informed them that the Mother spoke a bit of English, but that they had to wait for a moment while one of her Sister informed her of their presence and on the purpose of their visit. They suspected that was just a trick to make them informally seeing some of the kids hosted there, but they didn’t want to contradict her or lack of respect.
Jarvis noticed immediately that the kids in the courtyard have stopped playing and they were observing them from a careful distance, by trying to order themselves the best they could to make a good impression. It was quite painful to watch, even because they were all older than what they were looking for. And they were looking for a specific kid, even if they didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl since the letter spoke only of a “child”.
Jarvis was also starting to wonder how they could recognize him or her. What if the nuns would just pick up a random kid, maybe a problematic one, with few chances of being adopted, and told them that he or she was the one they were looking for? How were they going to prove his/her identity? How were they going to discard a kid in favour of another? He knew that, if it was for Ana, they would have exited from there with a bunch of sons and daughters, but, unfortunately, they’ve documents ready for just one kid.
While Jarvis was getting anxious about this topic, and Sister Mary was babbling something in French about the architecture of the convent, a big black and white cat exited from a corner and proudly marched towards them. The cat studied Jarvis for a moment, and then started to meow loudly and to rub against his legs, leaving a lot of fur over his wool trousers.
“AH! Makhai se! (Get away!)” Sister Mary shouted by trying to kick the cat, but it was smarter than her and quickly hide behind Jarvis’s legs. She tried to chase it, but despite its size, the cat was quick.
Jarvis stood absolutely still in overt embarrassment, while Ana seemed quite amused by the scene. Then they heard a kid’s voice shouting: “Mistur Mustatsi!!!”
And then a really short and skinny kid run towards them and knelt to protect the big cat from the nun’s kicks.
“Ne go pipaite! (Don’t touch him!)” the kid cried to the nun. Then he lifted the cat, who was almost as big as him and said: “Dobre li si, Mistur Mustatsi? Ne byagaĭ! (Are you okay? Don’t run away!)”
He didn’t know if it was because of the kid’s voice, or the fact that he was practically on his shoes, but Jarvis felt something hitching in his chest. He knelt slowly next to the kid while he said with the calmest voice he could find: “It’s okay, little one. Your cat is safe!”
And then the kid raised his head to face him and Jarvis’s heart missed a beat. Because he couldn’t doubt that he was staring in Maria’s big brown eyes, the same eyes he had seen sparkling with joy at her and Howard’s marriage, the same proud eyes with which she had faced ministers, politicians and even the President. And now those same eyes were staring at him with curiosity, in the face of a young boy of maybe less than 5 years of age.
“Good morning…” the kid said, cautiously, in a heavy-accented English.
“Hello, my boy!” Jarvis replied, by grabbing at all his self-control not to hug him immediately on spot. He had to remain perfectly calm: first, he didn’t want to scare the boy, and second, he needed the nuns to approve his adoption to them.
“You America?” the kid was asking, by still grabbing at the big cat, now peacefully calm in his arms. Jarvis noticed he couldn’t pronounce the “r”.
“Yes, my boy. My name is Edwin Jarvis, and she’s my wife, Ana.”
“Hello, sweetie!” she said with a knot on her throat, by kneeling beside him in front of the kid. She moved a hand towards the cat, and patted him on the head: the cat stirred but didn’t move. “It’s a lovely cat. Is it yours?”
The boy looked at them, like he wasn’t understanding the question.
“We tried to teach the kids many languages” Jarvis heard Sister Mary explaining in French; her voice was like a distant noise. “There are many parents coming from abroad to adopt … here the adoption is quite easy. At least they could exchange some words at the beginning, but they don’t know much!”
They kept smiling at the boy who was like studying them with his big brown eyes. He seemed almost scared by Jarvis, but he liked Ana. He has put the cat down, and the feline was rolling on the floor at his feet.
“What’s your cat’s name?” Ana tried again, slowly, by pointing at the feline.
The boy’s eyes sparkled as he recognized the question.
“Mistur Mustatsi!” he said, proudly pointing at the cat with his puffy finger. “My friend!”
“Oh! What a lovely friend you have!” Ana went on, as she rubbed the cat’s fur. Jarvis seemed to have lost his ability to talk. Ana pointed at the kid and asked again: “And you? What’s your name?”
“My name Tony. I’m Tony!” the kid replied immediately. And then he smiled, and Jarvis felt like he was melting on that icy courtyard.
“Il s’appelle Anthony Edward. C’etait son père y sa mère qui l’an appelé comme ça… avant de le quitter ici, c’est a dire! (His name’s Anthony Edward. His father and mother named him like this… before leaving him there, that’s to say!)” Sister Mary told them.
Jarvis swallowed, and he noticed Ana has squeezed her shirt to avoid to say something. Then he remained perfectly still while the boy was moving his puffy hands towards his wife and touching her scarf.
“This… nice…” he told.
“Do you like it?” Ana asked. When the boy nodded, she took it off and gave it to the kid, but she was astonished when he retracted without touching it.
“Vous ne pouvez pas donner des cadeaux a les enfants, Madame Jarvis (You can’t give presents to the kids, Mrs.’ Jarvis)” the nun explained. And then she stated that it will be better if they went talking to the Mother Superior.
“You go, Mr. Jarvis” Ana said, without moving from her position. “I’d like to spend some time with Tony and Mr. Whiskers… well, Mistur Mustatsi here. If Sister Mary agrees…”
The Sister was not fully persuaded, but finally she waved to another sister to escort Mr. Jarvis till the director’s office, while she remained with the American woman and the young kid. Jarvis was sure that Sister Mary was a bit pissed that the kid has jumped out in front of them, like they didn’t want them to see him. Maybe his doubts were grounded, and they’ve managed to meet him only because of that cat...
When he entered the Mother Superior’s office, he was not surprised to see her at the window, staring down at the courtyard: she would have probably witnessed to the whole scene. She was a big fat woman, with a strict face surrounded by her black veil and dress. She had an imprecise age, but for sure she must have passed the war and all the mess after it. However, when she turned towards Jarvis her eyes were gentle and her tone calm and almost tender when she invited him to sit in the same strong accent of the kid below. At least, she spoke English.
“I’ve studied English and Italian in Rome” she told him. “I worked for a Bishop in Sofia, before being assigned here when he died. A good man…”
Jarvis didn’t know what to reply, but he gladly accepted the hot tea she was offering.
“You met Tony” she went on. “That’s problem. The kid was left here but his father’s alive… don’t know anything from him since a while...”
“I know. That’s why we are here!” Jarvis said, by trying to remain calm.
The Mother studied him with her gentle but old eyes. “Did you come here for him?” she asked.
Jarvis nodded and took out of his pocket the letter he has found in Mr. Stark’s room.
“This is the letter you wrote to Howard Stark one year ago, isn’t it?” he asked. “You asked him what he intended to do with a child he has left here almost 4 years ago… is he the kid we met before?”
The nun inspected the letter and then nodded.
“How do you have this?” he asked.
“I’ve worked for Mr. Stark for almost my whole life. He told me about the kid only a few weeks ago...”
That was a lie, he knew. As well as he knew that this was just the first of many lies he had to tell to the Mother Superior. In fact, Jarvis took out another letter and passed it to the Mother Superior.
“Mr. Stark hasn’t answered you before, but he sent us now!” he said. “This is a letter written by Howard Stark himself almost a week ago, in which he authorized me and my wife to adopt the kid and dispose of him… like a family!”
The nun didn’t answer immediately: she read the letter a couple of times, frowning. Then she looked at Jarvis like she was reading inside his soul, and the man couldn’t avoid to tremble on his chair.
“Why now?” she simply asked. Her tone was gentle but Jarvis knew she was going to be inflexible: his answer would have decided his faith… and the boy’s one.
He took about the proper answer for a moment, and then he decided to go for the truth this time.
“Because we knew the kid’s mother” he said. “We were friends… sort of. We didn’t know she had the kid… we... I mean, my wife and I, we only knew that she died on her way to Sofia, and we were told the kid died as well. When we found out the kid was alive, we asked to take care of him… we couldn’t have children on our own… we’ll love him like he’s our flesh and blood!”
The big nun studied him for a long moment in silence. Jarvis didn’t dare to know what she was thinking when she passed her sight from him to the papers in front of her, and then back on him.
“We need to see if the boy wants you!” she simply stated. Then she rang a small bell she had on her table and, when a young nun appeared at the door, she told her something in Bulgarian.
Those were the longest five minutes in Jarvis’s life: nobody was talking, and the Mother Superior had apparently lost interest in him. She was compiling an old book while, out of the blue, she asked: “What was the name of the kid’s mother?”
“Maria… Maria Carbonell-Stark” Jarvis mumbled.
“Why are you sure it’s her son?”
“The eyes… he has his mother’s eyes…”
He didn’t know if it was for the right answer or the velocity of the answer itself, but he saw the trace of smile on the nun’s lips. It was like she was sure that moment would have come.
A moment later the door opened and Sister Mary went in followed by Tony and then Ana. The kid had again the big cat in his arms, and it made him look smaller than he actually already was. Jarvis smiled at the memory of Maria telling them that as a girl she was quite short… and bossy!
The nun told something to the kid, who put the cat down on the floor. The feline stirred, looked at the Mother Superior and marched away as fast as he could. The kid appeared a bit worried and also undecided on where to put his puffy hands now that his feline friend has left him alone.
“Don’t worry, Tony” the Mother told him in Bulgarian.
She stretched a hand towards Ana, that shook it, thus moving near Jarvis. The Mother invited the two guests to take a chair in front of her, while sister Mary moved Tony on the director’s side, and she also remained behind him, with both hands on his little shoulders.
The Mother turned towards the kid and said slowly: “These persons are Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis. They came from America. They want to adopt you.”
Ana stretched to take Jarvis’s hand and she squeezed it with all her strength, while the kid was listening with attention to the nun’s words.
The Mother Superior repeated the sentence “They want to adopt you” twice, and also once in Bulgarian to be sure the little kid has understood correctly. When it was clear the boy has got it, they saw different emotions passing on his face, before he lowered his eyes on the ground and shook his head in denial.
Jarvis heard Ana gasping while he froze on spot: of all the things they have thought, that the kid didn’t want to come with them was not one that has occurred to neither of them.
“No?” the Mother Superior seemed as astonished as them. “Why not, Tony?”
The boy raised his eyes and he fixed them on Jarvis as he stated: “He go away… I no good for he…”
It was like being accused of having beaten a puppy. Jarvis couldn’t understand what was going on, nor he got what the nuns were telling the kid in their language. The kid seemed stubborn in the idea that Jarvis had been there before and he hadn’t taken him. He wasn’t getting how it was possible that the kid believed something like that, but he was distracted by the pain he felt in his hand: Ana had practically put her nails inside his flesh, while she was staring at scene in front of her in a growing state of anxiety.
Jarvis knew that look and he decided to act.
“Tony!” he called aloud, by hushing automatically the others. He slowly raised and went in front of the kid, at a careful distance, before kneeling in front of him. “I swear, my boy, I haven’t been here before…”
The kid was studying him but he didn’t seem fully persuaded. Maybe he hasn’t understood a thing but at least he wasn’t running away.
“Vie razlichen (you different)… nyama mustatsi (no moustache) ” he said. Jarvis didn’t catch a word but he perfectly understood the following question in English: “Why here?”
“Why are we here? Well, we wanted to adopt a kid… you see my wife there? We don’t have any kids, and we want one… and when we met you down there, it was like a sign. We’d like to adopt you, if you wish to…”
He got the impression the kid wasn’t fully understanding because he has narrowed his eyes in the effort to follow every word he was coming out from his mouth.
“We want to adopt you, Tony” Ana intervened, by reaching Jarvis’s side. “We want you because Mistur Mustatsi made us meeting. He run to us… and you followed him…”
The Mother Superior decided to intervene and she translated everything to the boy (or, at least, they hoped she was doing this). They saw the kid nodding thoughtful, in contrast of his young age, and then he said something.
“Cats knew best” the Mother translated by rolling her eyes.
Jarvis was failing at getting it but he dared to ask: “So… is that a yes? Do you want to come with us, Tony?”
The kid looked shyly at both of them. But when Ana opened her arms, he quickly jumped towards her and fell into her hug. She squeezed him by trying not to cry too much of joy.
Jarvis felt almost too overwhelmed to move, but somehow he managed to gently pat the kid on his shoulders. But then the kid moved away from Ana and fixed again Jarvis.
“Look me… I good?” he asked.
“I don’t understand…”
“I good?” the kid insisted.
“He’s asking if he’s good for you” the Mother Superior said. “As he said, we had a precedent…”
“A precedent?” Ana asked. “What kind of precedent?”
The big nun sighed. “Like someone from America, someone you know… he has come here to pick the boy one year ago but he has run away after having seen him… he had grey hair like yours, and also moustache…”
She didn’t add anything else. She didn’t need to.
For Jarvis it was like being hit by a thunder: he now remembered Howard Stark acting weirdly almost a year before; he remembered to have reserved his jet for a journey to Europe, the first and only one in the past five years, and how he had insisted on going alone. He remembered that when he has come back, only a few days later, he was in such a bad humour to get heavily drunk over the piano for three days straight; they’ve needed to call Mr. Stane for help because neither Jarvis nor Ana were managing him in that state, and he was throwing objects at them as soon as they entered the room.
“I good?” the kid in front of him repeated for the third time, by taking him back to reality. He looked so desperately in need of affection and confirmation that Jarvis felt his stomach closing.
He put his hands over his shoulders and smiled at him, while he said, without lowering his eyes: “My boy, you’re perfect!”
And the kid burst into tears and then hugged him, by snuzzling against his neck. Jarvis closed his eyes by believing that was the happiest moment in his whole life.
They couldn’t manage to move until quite late in the afternoon because there were some technicalities to be fixed. They had lunch with the Mother Superior and a couple of other nuns in a private room. Despite their objections, Tony was having lunch with the other kids, and then a Sister Margaret was going to help him preparing his luggage, while the two adults were signing different documents. From the kid’s birth certificate, they discovered that Tony was 4 years old, and he was turning 5 on May 29.
“Why didn’t she name him Elmonzo?” Ana mumbled at some point.
That took a smile from the Mother Superior. “Oh! That was her idea, but I… eh, suggested her differently!” she revealed. Then she told them of the last words of Maria Carbonell-Stark, right in her arms, before closing her eyes forever with the kid still alive inside her.
“She lost consciousness. She was dying. The doctor took the baby out right on time!” the Mother revealed. “Quite difficult and we are not hospital… And the kid was very premature: difficult to survive! He couldn’t travel… that’s why father left him. Many do… not his fault! We took care of him, warmed him up… he’s a strong kid!”
Jarvis thought that of all the right things the Mother Superior has said today, one was dramatically wrong. With all the money and the means of Howard Stark, he has left his son, Maria’s son, there, in a place without the facilities or the instruments to provide at his needs in the most delicate phases of his life. Why he has done this, it remained a mystery… a mystery Jarvis didn’t intend to solve! Because as soon as he would have put eyes again on his former friend Howard Stark, he would have punched him in the face!
“He left him here!” he told his wife, while, after the pleasantries with the Mother Superior, they were waiting for the kid to join them with his belongings.
“I know, Mr. Jarvis…”
“He was a premature child in need of everything and he left him… here!” he repeated, with a suppressed fury rampaging inside his heart.
“I know, honey…” Ana repeated, by trying to calm him down.
“And there’s worse!” he went on, like a demon has possessed him. “He went here last year, I know now! He went here to pick him up… and instead, he looked at him and he run away! Why, in the name of the bloody God?”
“Edwin, hush… don’t curse here!” Ana told him, by taking his face with her hands and forcing him to calm down. “And for Howard’s behaviour, I could only guess what was going on inside his head. His wife, the love of his life, has just died in an absurd and unbelievable way, in a journey he has desperately wanted and rushed her into… and their son, their only son was born premature. Do you know how many chances 7 months old kids have to survive till age 3?”
“I- I don’t… what has this to do with…”
“Focus please, Mr. Jarvis!” she imposed him. “Howard had just lost his wife, and the world was collapsing over him. The chances his son was going to die in the immediate future were high, very high… If I have to guess, I guess he has left him here because he couldn’t allow himself to witness his death like he has witnessed Maria’s one! Howard hasn’t wanted to give himself false hopes and then to lose again something he cared about… I’m not justifying him, Mr. Jarvis, don’t look at me like this! I’m just guessing what he must have gone thought, by giving his personality!”
Jarvis wasn’t fully calm, but the reasoning was good and it looked a lot like Howard’s way of doing things.
“Still, why has he come here last year and left the kid?” he asked again. “Do you have an explanation for this as well?”
Ana looked at a vague point behind him. “Because of his eyes…” she replied in a whisper. “Tony has his mother’s eyes. Did you notice, didn’t you? Probably when he looked at him, he saw Maria’s eyes… and he was too much to handle. He’s still in mourning… he wasn’t ready to have a kid. He’ll probably never be…”
They were interrupted in their elucubrations by Sister Margaret, who was approaching with a sense of urgency.
“Je suis desolée, mais nous avons un problem! (I’m sorry, but we’ve got a problem)” she said. “Tony… Il ne veut pas venir… il ne veut pas laisser le chat ici! (Tony doesn’t want to go… he doesn’t want to leave the cat here!)”
Ana, who was so calm a few moments before, was now almost panicking. But Jarvis calmed her with a smile, and then asked the Sister to guide them to Tony.
They found the kid hiding inside a wardrobe, and, from the noise, he was crying. The cat must have been with him because they could hear him meowing softly.
“Tony?” Jarvis called by sitting in front of the wardrobe. The door was slightly opened: the cat was licking the kid on the nose, but the little one was hugging his friend and sobbing. “Are you worried for your cat?”
Ana translated it in French to Sister Margaret, who translated it in Bulgarian to the kid. He replied something that finally Jarvis got being as follows: the older kids have menaced Tony that they were going to eat Mistur Mustatsi as soon as he left, and now the kid didn’t want to leave his friend alone and in danger. Actually, the Sister revealed that the cat was just a vagabond that has established in the convent some months before when the kid was sick, and now it followed him around because Tony fed him part of his lunch and dinner.
Jarvis made up his mind immediately. “Well, then it’s decided, my boy!” he told him. He opened the wardrobe a bit and then he added: “You take the cat with you! We’ll bring Mistur Mustatsi to America!”
The kid has probably understood but he waited for the nun’s translation before crying with joy, by squeezing his cat who was a bit outraged by the treatment.
They asked the nuns if they needed to fill some other paper to take also the cat, but they appeared all but glad they were going to keep that big ball of fur away with them.
The Mother Superior also came down from her office to wish them goodbye, and she gave a package to Tony with the promise to preserve it well. They would discover it contained a small pendant with the Virgin: a gift from all the nuns to their little kid going to America.
Then Jarvis put the boy’s small luggage in the trunk, and the kid and Ana took place on the back seat, while Mistur Mustatsi was already occupying the passenger’s ones.
While he was driving on the country roads back to Sofia, Jarvis looked in the rear-view mirror and he felt a warm joy invading his chest: cradled in Ana’s arms, Tony was resting with his small hand attached to her shoulder.