Shestaresatmeandfrowns.Herprettyblueeyeslookatmewithmockeryandshetwists hermouth.
"I'mwearingshorts.Theseneverfail,oldman."
"Old?"
"Comeon,wehaveworktodo"shesaysdecisively.
"Youscareme,Amy."
"Donotexaggerate,Mark."
ALICE
"Lifeislikeapiano:
Thewhitekeysrepresenthappiness
whileblackkeysrepresentsadness.
Astimegoesby,
Yourealizethattheblackkeys
Alsomakemusic"
.
Ialwaysthoughttherewouldn´tbeasummerthatcouldbeatthatofmyweekinColorado withThomasasateenager.ButI'vebeeninTuscanyforfivedays,andhasexcelitfully.My daughter seems to have fun with treating me badly in front of Mark, with whom she behaves wonderfullyandseemstoentrustherwholelife.SoIdon´tfeelbadifIspendhoursworking onmynewnovelinfrontofthecomputer,orifIdisappearfromhomewithoutsayinganything.
MarkisabletofigureoutwhereIam.WithwhomIam.Andheisn´twrong.
Ignoring his warnings, I think I'm falling in love a little bit with Angelo. Just a little.
Nothinghashappenedbetweenusyet,despitetheirdirectnessandrapprochement.Thedream inwhichwewalkthepath,hestopsandtellsmethathecan´ttakeitanymore;Sothatseconds laterhesurprisesmewithakiss;thishasn´tyetcometrue.AndIthinktomyself...Whatishe waitingfor?What’shisgame?Wasnothetheonewhosaidthatweshouldn´twastetime?ButI don´twanttospoiliteither.Idon´twanttoendthemagicalandbeautifulrelationshipthatwe are creating. Maybe nothing has to happen. Why should something happen? Life isn´t a romantic novel. Two people of the opposite sex, don´t have to become a couple of lovers overnight.NeitherdoIwanttoforcethesituation,nordisappointmyself.
"Comeonup.Iwillhelpyou."
Angelo is very nicely dressed appropriately for riding. I tell him it's my first time and horses intimidate me a lot. Besides, I'm not well dressed for the occasion. I have chosen a dressandthatisn´talwayssuitableforriding,unlessyouareJoanofArcandyoumanageto perfection.
"AndifIfall?"Iaskhiminterror.
"Thehorsewillnottrotlikeamadman,unlessyoutellhim."
"Ialmostpreferyoutocomeupwithme.Tobeincharge."
In my head I'm already visualizing the idyllic image of grabbing Angelo's waist and gallopingonhorsebackwithanexpertriderlikehim.Itsoundsromantic,alotlike"Legendsof passion".
"I'll go on this one" he says, stroking the back of the brown horse with bright mane that standsbesidehim.
"Okay..."Igrowl.Myidealizedimagevanishesasifbymagic.
Angelohelpsmegetupandputsmyhandsonthehorse'sreins.IfeeldizzyasIlookdown.
Withgestures,heshowsmewhatImustdototellthehorsewhereIwanttogo,butwhenI realizethatIdon´tcoordinateittoowell,hegivesupandsaysthatIjustfollowhim,thatmy horsewilldowhathishorsedoes.
"Donotmakeitruntoofast"Isay,laughing.
"Aquietwalk"hepromises.
Hekeepshispromiseandtakesaquietrideonhorsebackupthehillpaths.Thelandscape isrepetitive,butnotlackingininterestorbeauty.Inthedistance,IseemtoseeMarkandmy daughterstoppedalongtheway.Sheshowshimhercellphoneandbeginstoover-gesturewith herhands.He,quiet,seemstobeafraidofher."Whatissheshowinghim?"Iwonder.
"Allgoodthere?"Angeloasks,lookingatme.
"Perfect."
WeenteraforestandmyhorsestopsatthesametimeasAngelo’s.
"Let'sletthemgetsomerest"hesays,smiling.
We sit down next to a tree, Angelo rests his back against the trunk and looks at me with narrowedeyes.I,however,prefertolettheimaginationflyandlingeronthetwoinitialsthat areengravedwithsomesharpobjectofthepast,inthetrunkofthetreebehindme.Twoletters: IandM.Whoarethey?Aretheystilltogether?Aretheyhappy?Ihavealwaysthoughttheyare aromanticdetailandyettherearen’tanyT(fromThomas)oraJ(fromJack)andanA(from Alice)onatrunk.
"Are you tired? " I ask Angelo, because I don´t know what else to say. After all, I can´t lookattheinitialsofthetreeallthetimeandignorehim.
"I’mnot.Howisyournovelgoing?"
"Verywell.Sixtypagesandadvanced,atagoodpace."
"Ihopethiswalkinspiresyou."
"Youinspireme."
What?DidIsaythat?
"Mymotherwouldbeproudtohearyou."
"Iwouldhavelikedtohavemether."
Angelolooksdownandtouchesthepocketsofhispants.Hetakeouthiswalletandfrom inside, a photo-sized card. He show it to me. It’s his mother at the age of twenty. The photograph is old, in black and white with torn edges. In it, I can see a smiling woman; It seemsthatlifehastreatedherwellforthemoment.Withblondhairandcleareyes,hersmile remindsmeofAngelo's.Frankandaffectionate,shemustbeaveryinterestingwoman.
"Wewouldhavegotalongwell"Itellhimwithcertainty.
"Ithinkso."
Itwouldbetheperfecttimetosaysomethinglike"Whatareyouwaitingfortokissme?I haven´t eaten garlic today. "But I don´t dare. The female characters in my novels are often bold,brave.Theyareusuallytheoneswhotakechargeofthesituation.Irealizehoweasyitis tocreateromanticsituationsinwhichwomentaketheinitiative,andhowdifficultitistomake somethinglikethathappeninreallife.Isighandlookatmyhorse,itishappytearingweeds.
"Iknowwhatyou'rethinking"Angelosayssuddenly.
"Ohyeah?"Isaycoquette.
"Yes."
"Youtellme."
"Thatyouwanttoeatagainadelicious Tagliataaiferri."
Ilaughathiswisecrack.ItistheperfectopportunitytosaywhatImean.I'mgoingtoletit go,likethat,allofasudden,andletitbewhatithastobe.
"You'rewrong.Iwasn´tthinkingoffillingmymouthwithgarlic,otherwiseIwouldn´tdare togiveyouakiss."
Helookspuzzled.Shit.Ifuckedit.He,sodirect,sobold,sosincere...me,soclumsy.
"Doyouwantmetokissyou?"Heasks,archinghiseyebrows.
"Werenotyoutheonewhosaidthatweshouldn´twastetime?"
"Ireadabookofyoursthatmymotherhadleftathome.Theonecalled Theshineofyour eye s.Init,thefemaleprotagonistignoresalltheeasystereotypeswhowanttotakehertobed andsoIhaven´tdaredto..."
"Shutup"Iinterrupt,grabbinghimbythebackofhisneckandplantingalong,passionate kiss.OurfirstkissundertheshadowofalosttreewiththeinitialsIandMetchedforever,ina forestofasmalltownintheregionofTuscany.IandMalsokissedpassionatelyhere,atavery distantmomentintime.
"Neverlosetheabilitytosurpriseyourself"Isay.Apparently,Ihaven´tforgottenwhatit feelsliketokiss.Howitfeelsliketoplaywithaforeigntongueandbitealipyouwant.Iclose myeyesandgowiththeflow.Iseparatefrommymindthewordsmydaughterwouldsayatthe moment:"Takemyeyesoff!Takemyeyesoff!"OrMark'swarning:"Donotfallinlovewith Angelo."Ilivethemoment.Irelishitwithpleasure.IseparatemylipsfromthoseofAngelo.
He stares at me and smiles. He kisses me again. It's like being back at that Colorado campground.Withthesameillusionofayounggirl,wholongstodiscoverwhatitfeelsliketo betrulyinlove.
I wonder if I was in love with Jack. If our relationship lasted so many years because of comfort,custom,fearorbecausewewerereallyinlove.Yes,weloveeachotherintheirown way.Jack'smannerwasalwaysselfish
.But,inlove?Thewordloveistoodeeptobeableto say with ease: Yes, I have fallen in love. At twenty you hardly care. It isn´t wanting, it is loving.It'snotthatyoulikeit,it'sthatyou'vefalleninlove.Atforty,thewordlovebecomes verybig.
I don´t know if what I feel for Angelo is a simple physical attraction or it goes beyond.
MaybeIthinktoomuchandIhaveletmyselfgoverylittlethroughoutmylife.Idon´twantto regretafutureofwhatIdidnotdo,becauseIalreadyregretenougheverythingIthoughtIdid years ago, but that did not finish, by letting me influenced and manipulated by Jack. I was absorbed,howdidInotrealizethat?Iwantedtodosomanythings...Forexample:goingto cookingclasses,learningtoridehorses,learningtoski,dancingsalsaandtango,visitingBali andArgentina.IwouldalsohavelovedtotakephotosofNiagaraFalls,bathenakedinthesea andnotbeconstantlythinkingaboutwhatpeoplewillthinkofme.Tohavetriedmyluckasa rolemodelinthe"Friends"series,onlytomeetitsmythicalactorsandsitonthesofaofthe fictionalcafeteria CentralPerk. Time flew by. But time isn´t always the culprit; It is almost alwaysus,toletitpass,fly,vanishlikethewind.Alwayssobusy...Mydaughter,Jack,the house,mynovels...Alifededicatedtoothersandtowork,morethantomyself.
Idon´twantanyofthathappentomenow.AtlastIhaverealizedthatlifeisgoingfast,that timedoesn´twaitforanyoneandthatIhavemorewillthanevertoexperimentandleavethe insecuritiesasideandtrytobehappy.Thehere,thenow,Angeloandhiskisses.Idon´twantto feelagaininthedreadedcrisisoftheforties.
"Areyouok?"Angeloasks,strokingmyhair."Areyouhere?"
"Sorry,Iwasthinkingabout...time.Ismileandkisshimagain."
AtlastIknowthewayhisstrongandpowerfulhandscaress,andIwanttokeepitinmy memory.Withgentlenessandfeeling.Butalsowithpassionanddebauchery.
Letthetimestandstill.Iremainhere.
MARK
Amyiscrazy.HowhappyIamnottohavelivedwithsocialnetworksinmyteenageyears.I don´tthinkIcouldhaveputupwithit.AssoonasshehasmetAlessandroshehasproposedto himtotake selfiestogether.OnlyIknowwithwhatintention.Andthat’swhattheyhavestayed doingforawhile.Shesmiled,puttingduckfaces,lookingsidewaysataconfusedbutpleasant Alessandro ... a torment for the poor boy, who has shown class and patience. Alessandro resemblesIsabella,hehasthesamebrowneyes.Isabella,assurprisedasIam,hasbegunto laugh and has asked me if Amy was one of those bloggers with influences that don´t stop to take selfiesallday,eventoadvertiseskittles.IexplainedtoheraboutthephotoonFacebook with Amy’s boyfriend kissing another crazy teenager with twisted hormones; But Isabella, instead of laughing or making any comments, has remained serious and understanding with Amy.
"Howdifficultitistobeateenager.Howdifficultwhenyouareinlove.Donotyouthink?
Istareatherandnoticethatthereissomethingdifferentabouther.Aboutherhair,herskin.
Theyareexcessivelydryandthisafternoonshewantedtoshowherfaceasitis.Nomake-up.
Shehasdarkcirclesunderhereyesanddoesn´tlookgood.
"Isabella,iseverythingokay?"Iask,nowthattheteenagershavemovedawayalittleand can´thearus.
Wehavemetlittletimeandalwaysfortwohours.Attwoo'clockshehasalwaysgone,in hasteandmakingexcusethatit’sbecauseofAlessandro.AlongtimeagoImetanextroverted, braveandcheerfulyoungwomanoffifteenyears;ButIknowthatnowIamfacingastrangerof whom I barely know anything. And yet, I have no difficulty recognizing that my heart beats quicklywhenI'mwithher.It'sanicefeeling,IeventhinkIreallymissedher.
"Shallwegototheporch?Doyouwantaglassoflemonade?"
Iseatdownworriedandweleavethecoupledoing selfiesandignoringtheoldpals.I'm curious about Amy's Facebook profile. Maybe she accepts me as a friend and I can see the result (and the consequences) of those photographs that in a few moments, I know she will upload on the internet for Matt and the freckled redhead to see. I also know that she will despairfornothavinggoodsignal,butshemustlearntobepatient.AsmuchpatienceasIhave had for twenty-eight years. Being next to Isabella, I understand that in a certain way, I have beenwaitingforhermywholelife.ThejerkofMarkHopehasdisappeared.Thesensitiveand naive teenager appearsagain,onlyafewyearsolderandabitmoreexperienced.
Isabellapoursmeaglassoflemonadeandstaresatme.Shehesitatesforamomentanda fewsecondslater,whilestilllookingatme,sheputsherhandstoherheadanddelicatelygets ridofthewigsheiswearing.I'mspeechless,alumptakesholdofmythroatandIwishIhad nottakenthefirstsipoflemonade,becauseIthinkI'mgoingtovomitoutofdisgust.Isabella beginstocryandasifbyinertia,sheembracesher.Icaresshernapeandlookatherheadwith onlyfourhairs.Whathappenedtoher?What'swrongwithher?
"Cancer"shereplies,readingmythoughtsandpullingawayalittlefrommewitheyesstill wetwithtears.Stagefourofbreastcancer.
"Whatdoesthatmean?"Iaskwithpity.
"I'mdying,Mark.Thecancerhasspreadbeyondthebreastandsurroundinglymphnodesto otherorgansinmybody.Tothelungs,tothebones...myliverisgettingcrushedandlatelymy headhurtsalot,soIthinkithasalsospreadtothebrain.It'samatterofdays,weeks.Amonth, althoughIdoubtit.Idon´tknow."
"Butwhenyoucametomyhome,yousaidyou'dbehereinAugust,that..."
"Ididnotwanttotellyou,Mark"sheinterrupts,cockingherheadandstrokingmycheek.
"ButIneedtoaskyouahugefavor."
"Whatever" I say truthfully. I suppress the tears I did not know existed in me. I haven´t criedsinceIwasfifteenandthiswomanwhonowtellsmethatsheisdyingdisappearedfrom mylife.
"LookafterAlessandro."
"Me?Isnottheresomebodyelse?Youtoldmeyouraisedhimalone,butdon´tyouknow whothefatheris?"
Isabellashakesherheadandsmilessadly.Sheswallows,itseemslikeshehastoputalot ofefforttotalk.
"Idon´tknowwhoAlessandro'sfatheris.Igotpregnantwithhiminakindofdarkperiod of my life in which I wanted to have fun with everybody. I was embarrassed to tell you somethinglikethat,that'swhyIhaven´ttoldyouanythinguntilnow...Iwantedyoutocontinue havingagoodimpressionofme,thatofagoodgirlthatalthoughyoudon´tknow,shelovedyou madly when she was thirteen. Alessandro and I are alone and soon I will leave. He doesn´t haveanybody,myparentsdiedyearsagoandIhavehardlyanyrelationwithmyunclesandmy cousins.Iknowit'sweird.Iknowit'sbeenalongtime,andweknownothingabouteachother, thatIdon´treallyknowyou...butIwantAlessandrotobewithyou.Please..."
"I never stopped thinking about you, Isabella. And over the years, I haven´t been the exemplaryguyyouimagine."
"Iknow.That'swhyyouhaven´tgotmarriedorhadchildren."shesmiles"Itissomething that can be intuited. " She winks at me. She knows I'm a jerk. "But you will manage with Alessandro.Well...ifyouwant,ofcourse.Idon´twanttoforceyouintoanything.Hewantsto studycooking,youknow?TherearegoodschoolsinNewYork,right?"
Inod,notknowingwhattosay.Iamnotabletorefusetotakecareofateenagerwhommy tenanthasgonecrazyfor.Butnowthisissuedoesn´tworrymetoomuch.Ican´tbelievethat Isabellahascancer,thatsheisdyingandhascomeheretodoit.Aftersomanyyears,I'mgoing to run out of the opportunity to be with her. Is that called accumulation of bad karma? Is somebodypunishingmeforsomethingI'vedone?BecauseI’vebeenajerkforsomanyyears?
"CanIas
kyouaquestion?"Shesayscoquettishly."Areyoustillalittlebitinlovewith me?"
She starts to laugh and blushes. I find it lovely and despite the circumstances, more beautifulthanever.Idon´tseeawomandestroyedbycancer,butawomanwithhopesthather sonwillhaveagoodlifewithaguyshedoesn´tknow,butshestilltrusts.Fortheoldtimes.
Forthatmagicalsummerthatjoinedus,morespecialeventhanIremembered."Whereveryou havebeenhappy,youmustnevertrytoreturn"saidasong.Andyet,Isabellahascometospend thelastdaysofherlifehere,intheplacewhereshewashappywithme;Hopingtofindmeand entrustmethepersonshelovesthemostinthisworld.
"Ifyouonlyknewhowyou'vechangedmylifeinfivedays,Isabella.Howmuchyoudid thatsummer."
"I'mgoingtobringchaostoyourlife,Mark.Whodoesthatwhenheorshedies?"
Isabella is brave and sure of herself. She isn´t afraid to die, she only thinks about the welfareofherson.
"Only you. I'll take care of Alessandro, spend this time getting to know him better and ensurehimgoodlifeinNewYork.Ipromise.Besides,deepdown...Ialwayswantedtobea father.Butdon´ttellanyone,IwouldlosethereputationofajerkthatIhavewroughtallthese years"Isaid,withasadandforcedsmile."Asforlove...yes,IcouldsaythatI'minlovewith you.Butit'sbeensolong,Idon´tevenknowifthat'strue.OrifI'minlovewiththememory, youknow?"
"That'sit,Mark.Youareinlovewiththememory,justlikeIam.Wearetwostrangers,I am dying and you a great man of forty-three, to who I am asking something tremendously importantandheaccepted.SomethingthatwillchangeyourlifeandIdon´tknowifIhavethe righttodoit,but..."
"Alessandrowillbefine"Iinterrupt."Youdon´thavetoworry."
Shenods.Shetakesasipfromherlemonadeandstartscryingagain.
Fallinginlovewithamemory.Goingbacktotheplaceswhereyouwerehappy.Forgetting the superficiality of life and focusing on what really matters. Right now, I don´t give a shit aboutmyreputationasachef,thedamngastronomicreviewoftheidiotofJohnLogan,andthe originalityofanewdishwhichInolongerwanttocreate.Ihavewastedmanyyearsofmylife tobuildasteadyandworld-widefameasachef.NowIwanttolive;innameofthelovefora memoryandfortheresponsibilitythatcomestome,havingtolookafterfortherestofmylife forboyIjustmetandwhocomesfromtheonlywomanwhooccupiedmyheartyearsago.
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