Happened in Tuscany

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Happened in Tuscany Page 10

by Lorena Franco


  "I'mpsyched.MymotherandIhavehadlongconversationsonthematterandIamtiredof seeinghersufferandtakepillsthatstunheratalltimessoasnottofeelpain.I'llhaveabad time,that'sforsure.Verybad.Hesighsandputsthehandtohismouth.Icryeverynight,I'mnot ashamedtosayit.IlookatmymotherandIknowsheisdying.Itseemsunfairtome,Istill needher.Butshealwayssaysthesamething: Mytimehereisover.Wehavetoacceptit. So there'snootherway,man.Aslongasyoudon´tmakemecallyou Dad..."helaughs.

  "Ofcoursenot."

  "AmylivesinNewYork,soI'llbeingoodhands."

  "Iseeyoutwoareveryclose."

  "It'sdifferentthanalltheothers."

  "Treatherwell."

  "Ofcourse.I'magoodboy,Mark.We'llgettoknoweachother."

  Hismaturitysurprisesme.Mymentaldiscoursegoestohell.

  "WhatdoyouwanttodoinNewYork?"

  "Studycooking"hesaysenthusiastically.

  "I'll help you be the best, Alessandro. Although I want you to know that isn´t the most importantthing.Work,Isay.Money,business...aresecondarythings.Ishouldn´ttellyouthat therearemoreimportantthingsthanstudiesbecauseyou'reoldenoughtobuildupafuture,but Idon´twantittohappentoyoulikeithappenedtome"Isayseriously."Idon´twant..."

  "Youdon´twantmetoendupalonelikeyou"heinterrupts,guessingmythoughts."Iknow.

  Mymotherhasbroughtmeupwell."

  "We'llkeepcompanytoeachother,Alessandro.I'llhelpyouwithanythingyouneed.Iwill behere,always."

  "Whataresponsibilityhasbegiventoyou,hasn’tit?"

  I ponder the answer for a few seconds. I look at him, and something in him reminds me strangely of me. If it weren´t because my relationship with Isabella happened twenty-eight yearsagoandwedidnotmeetagainuntilnow,Iwouldthinkthatthisboyismyson.

  "Youarenotaresponsibilityoranobligation,Alessandro.Evenifyoudon´tcallme"dad", you're going to be like a son to me. The son I now know I would have liked to have. And believeme,I'vedonemyinternshipwithAmy...ifIcancopewithher,Icanwithanyteenager whogetsinmyway."

  "It'sgoodtoknow,Mark.

  "Alessandro!"ShoutsAmy,approachingus."CanIputthephotosonFacebook?"

  AlessandroandIlaughedandIknowwebothwouldhaveahardtimeimaginingalifein NewYork,withoutthepresenceofthecrazyAmy.

  ALICE

  IsabellaandIhavebeentalkingaboutlove.Ialsotoldheraboutmypast,Jackandthe bleachblondegirl.Isabella,awomanaccustomedtoseeingthebeautifulsideoflife,toldme thatitwasthebestthingthatcouldhappentome.Shehasbeeninterestedinmynovelsandhas felttremendouslysorrynottohavereadany."Iwillnothavetimetodoit.Yousee?That'swhy wedon´thavetoleavethingsfortomorrow.Maybethenextmorningwillnotexist"shesaid sadly.

  "Before Mark comes, I want you to know a little detail of my story that I avoided, but I needtotellyou,Alice"shesays,lookingaroundimpatiently.

  "Sure."

  Isabella'sexpressiongetstense.Shefrownsandsqueezesherlips,looksatmewithguilt.I feelthatwhatsheisgoingtoconfesstomewillbedifficulttoassimilate,soIhopeshewill notmakemepromisetokeepitasecret.

  "Inmydarkpastasahighclassprostitute,Iwaswithmanyclients;Mostofthemwerevery important, but I hardly remember who they were. It was simply better for me to forget their facesintime,forthebenefitofmyownmentalhealth.Inodandswallow.Ionlyrememberone, Alessandrośfather.

  "But..."Ibegintosayconfused."Yousaidyouhadnoideawhohewas."

  "I'vebeenlyingallmylife,Alice.I'mgoodatit.Alessandro..."nowshe'stheonewho swallows.Shemovesherneckfromsidetosideandcaressesherhead.AlessandroisMark's brother.

  "What?"

  Iopenmyeyesandcovermymouth.Idon´twanttotalk.Ican´tspeak.Thematterdoesn´t concernmeandI'mtheleastlikelytotellherthatit'ssomethingthatMarkshouldknowright away.Whatthehell!Yes,I'mtheonetotellher!

  "Isabella,whathappened?Markneedstoknow."

  "Ofcourse.WhenIamreadytotellher,hewillknow.Mark'sfathertravelledtoFlorence onbusiness.Hewasanimportantman.Seeinghimintheclub,IwasshockedandIthoughthe wouldn´t choose me. He, of course, did not recognize me ... I had changed a lot, he couldn´t identifymewiththeyoungteenagerwhowentoutwithhisson.Hehadhardlyeverseenmea coupleoftimes,so..."

  "Buthechoseyou."

  "Yes.Ihadtobitethebullet,wedrankwhiskey,IgotdrunkandmadelovetoMark'sfather.

  IdidnottellwhoIwas."Sheshakesherheadandatearrunsdownherpalecheek."MyGod, howcanItellMarkthis..."shewhispersanguished,moretoherselfthantome.

  "HowdoyouknowthatAlessandroisthesonofMark'sfather?"

  "Becausethecondomhasbroken.ButIdidnotrealizeituntilMr.Hopeleftandtheeffects ofalcoholweakened.Ididnotcare,butthreemonthslaterIfoundoutIwaspregnant."

  "Idon´tknowhow,butyouhavetotellMark"

  "IknowIshouldhavedoneitfromthebeginning,Alice.ButIdon´thavethecourage."

  "Hehastoknow.AndAlessandrotoo."

  "Theywillhateme."

  "No, they won´t. They will not hate you. It's your past, it was a mistake, but in spite of everything,it'sawonderfulthingifyouthinkaboutit."

  "Wonderful?HavingsleptwithMark'sfatheriswonderful?"

  "Itdoesn´tsoundgood...Ofcoursenot.But...Alessandrolookslikeanamazingkid,right?

  "Isabellanodsandsmilessadly."Andtheyarebrothers.Thereissomethingthatunitesthem, AlessandrowillnotstaywithMarkbecausehewasthefirstpersonwhocrossedyourmindto takecareofhim.Nowitallmakessense"Itrytoexplain.

  "Everythinghasitsgoodside,Isuppose."

  "He will not hate you. Mark could never hate you" I say, self-convincing myself, despite not knowing Mark so much, or whether he would really react well or badly to something so shocking.

  "I'lltellhimtomorrow.Doyouthinkit'sOK?"

  "Whenyou'reready"Isay,alittledisappointed.HowcanIhidesomethinglikethatfrom MarkuntilIsabellafeelsreadytotellhim?

  "Hi,younggirls"saysMark,inthecompanyofAlessandroandAmy."Howareyou?Isee thatyoureallygetonwell."

  Idon´tknowhowtolookathim.IlookatAlessandroandthenlookatMark,andalthough theydon´tresemblephysically,nowIseesomethinginthemthatmakesanyonethinktheyare brothersevenifthereisabigagegapbetweenthetwo.Iwouldliketodisappearfromhere.

  Runoutandlockmyselfinmybedroomtowrite.IlookatIsabella,Idon´tknowhowshecan look so serene after she confessed me to the truth, hiding it from the two people who really needtoknow.

  "Verywell.Aliceisacharm"Isabellasays,lookingatme.

  Ilookatherwithdistrust.EverythinggoodthatIthoughtofheratfirst,fadestogivewayto confusion. Deep down, she is a cold, calculating woman who has been able to conceal valuable information, which, perhaps, if she had reveal it from the beginning, could have avoidedthepainshemostlikelywillcause.

  IrememberperfectlythedayonwhichMarkandCindy'sfatherdied.Itwasfiveyearsago.

  I was engrossed in promoting one of my novels and couldn´t go to the funeral. I would have met Mark, but it wasn´t our time. Cindy was affected, but not as much as usual when an offspring loses his father. From what she told me, her father had not treated her mother very well and was always more focused on his business than on h
is own children. Maybe that's why, neither Cindy nor Mark have had children; Since just like Mr. Hope, they have been paying attention to their works and have preferred not to procreate so as not to harm small innocentswhodon´tchoosetocometotheworld.

  "Shallwego?"IaskMark.

  "Whydon´twestayfordinner?"Markproposes,lookingatIsabella,toobtainherconsent.

  "Sure!Dowemakepizza?"Isabellasaysenthusiastically.

  AlessandroandAmynod,I'mnotconvincedbytheplan,soIshakemyhead.

  "I'mgoinghome.Ihavemuchtowrite"Isay,withaforcedsmile.

  "Can’tyouwaittillmorning?"Markasksdisappointed.

  "No"Ilaugh,thoughfromhislookIknowheknowsitisn´tasincerelaughter."Youknow

  ...themuses...flutterand..."

  I laugh again, and although Mark frowns without really understanding what I intend, it is impossibletoknowthatbehindthatnervouslaugh,hidesanuncontrollabledesiretocry.Ilook atIsabellaharshlyandkissheronthecheek,whisperingtoher"Donotwaitanylongerandtell herthetruth."Shenodsandsaysgoodbye,wishingmeagoodevening.

  Theroadbackhomegetsreallyharsh.Itisgettingdark.Theskygivesmeaspectacularmixof colours,whichIgreatlyappreciaterightnow.Thelanternswillberesponsibleforilluminating the dirt trails in a few minutes, so I feel free to procrastinate a little and get deeper into a wheatfield,toliedown,lookattheskyandlistentothesilence.However,peacelastsashort time.

  "Alice!"

  ThatvoiceIknow.Thegruntingofhishorsetoo.

  "What?"Ireplyinabadway."Youspoiltheviews,Angelo."

  Angelogetsoffthehorse,whichstandsstillatasafedistancefromme.

  "Whathappenedafewhoursago,Alice..."Heshakeshishead.Whatagreatactor."Ithad movedme"hebeginstosaydramatically."I'vebeenhangingaroundallday,butyousee...there isnothingbetweenus,we'renotdating,Idon´thavetofeelguilty,youknow?Wehadagood time,didnotwe?That'sall,andwecankeephavingagreattimeifyouwant."

  "Idon´tliketokissyouafterexchangingyourdroolswithothers,I'msorry"Isaycoldly.

  "I'mlikethis,whatshouldIdo?"

  "Ithoughtyouweredifferent.Ofcourse,youcandowhateveryouwantwithyourlifeand yes,wehadfun.Itjustbotheredmetoseethatthedayafteryouwerewithme,youflirtedwith another,that'sall."

  "Arewestillfriends?"

  I press my lips together. I don´t want to laugh, not after the afternoon I've lived and the secret that Isabella has confessed to me. I feel like I'm a teenager with crazy hormones, as Markwouldsay;AndItrytothinkabouthowmydaughterwouldreact.Finally,Ican´thold myselfbackandIburstintoaloudlaughthatloosensallmyfacialmuscles.

  "Ofcoursenot.Andthanksformakingmelaugh."

  I don´t know how to classify Angelo's grimace. He seems to be between upset, angry, confused...MaybehethinksI'mcrazy.Maybe.ButIreallydon’tcare.

  "IstheresomethingbetweenyouandMark?"Heaskssuddenly.

  Silence as an answer was never more accurate. I get up and continue walking without lookingback.IhavetwointenseweekstoliveinacornerofTuscany,andalthoughmymind beginstowanderthroughotherworldsandsituationsthatIdon´tthinkIwillactuallylive,an illusiontakesoverme.Ithasaname.Ofcourseithasaname:Mark.ButunlikewithAngel, everythingbecomesuphillwhenthinkingofIsabella,Alessandroandeverythingthatawaitsthe dethronedexceptionalchef.Withhim,doingwhatIwantwhenIwantisn´tworthy,becauseI aminthatmomentofmylifeinwhichIwanttofinallyenjoyandlivefullyfree.Ihavetowait forthetimewhenmaybe,hehavethestrengthtodecidebeforeme.

  CHAPTER10

  MARK

  "ThedayIunderstood

  Thattheonlythingthat

  IwilltakewithmeiswhatIlive,

  IstartedtolivewhatIwanttotake"

  AfterawholedaywithAlice,Ican´thelpbutmissher.IhaveaskedIsabellaforherandshe hassimplysaidthatsheischarming,butthatshewillneverrevealthesubjectofwhichthey havebeenspeaking."Women'sthings"shesaidmysteriously.IwonderwhyAlicehasleftso hastily with the excuse of continuing to write. What has Isabella told her to make her leave withoutwantingtostaywithusfordinner.

  AlessandroandAmyhavebeenhavingfunhelpingmemakeadelicioushomemadepizza.

  Throughoutthesedays,IhavebeenthinkingthattheonlythingsIwillcookfortherestofmy life,aresimplehomemadepizzasandpancakes.Butbestofall,Idon´tcareifIhavesomeone whogivesmethesaltwhenIask,opensallthecupboardsandleavesthekitcheninamess.

  Isabella looked at us silently, sitting on a stool. She looks tired and defeated. For a moment,IfeltIhadafamily,butAlice'sfacecomestomymindagainandagain.What'sgoing on?Mymotto:"Inaclosedheartnobutterfliescomein",hascompletelyexpired.

  Afterdinner,IsabellaandIwentouttothegardentohavesometea.AlessandroandAmy havegonetotheroom.Idon´twanttoimaginewhattheyaredoing...Irefuse,itissomethingI wouldn´twanttovisualize.

  "It'sbeenagreatday"Isabellasays,smilingandlookingupatthesky.Youremindedme howhappyIwasthatsummer,Mark.Whatmoments...Unforgettable.Simple,intimate...when lifeends,yourealizethatthesearethemomentsthatmatter."

  Inod,notknowingwhattosay.Fromthewayshespeaks,itseemstobeascriptthatshe haslearnedbyheart.Istareather,I'dliketoaskifshe'safraid.Afraidofdying.Iwouldbe terrifiedandyet,Isabellashowsaformidablestrengthonthematter.

  "Wecouldrepeatit."

  "What?"Iask,somewhatdazed.

  "That,whichweweresogoodat."

  ShesmilesmischievouslyandIknowwhatshemeans.Onenight.Tofeellovedagain,to kissheragain,tocaressher,toloveher.

  "I am sorry." She shakes her head quickly at my reaction, her hands clenching. "What nonsense,surelyyoudon´t..."

  "Ido"Iinterrupt.

  Istareintohereyes,eventhoughsheknewthatbetweenthetwo,onlymemoriesremainand endless feelings towards them. I approach slowly, knowing that we are about to cross again thatfinelinethatexistsbetweenfriendshipandlove.Thememoriesofthepastandthoseofthe presentintermingletoofferusthebestthatlifehas:moments.LittlemomentsthatIsabellahas taught me to live with intensity, because perhaps someday, they are the only ones that are

  worthwhile.I'mabouttotouchherlips,tofeelherskinagain;Drierthanbefore,weakerand wrinkled. She looks at me sadly and I feel that her heart has accelerated as much as mine. I smile,tryingtocreateawarmandwelcomingatmospheresothatshewouldfeelatalltimesat ease.

  "Thankyou"shewhispersinmyear.

  Then I kiss her lips again. It is a sweet and slow kiss that savours the moment of the ephemeral.I'mnotusedtothatkindofkissing.Infact,Ihadnotkissedwithmyheartformany yearsnowasIamdoingnow.Icaresshercheek,Isabellapointsattheinsideofthehouse.We enter and go upstairs holding hands. We know that the teenagers must be absorbed in their affairsandthatifanuclearbombfalls,theywouldn´tevenknowit;Butjustincase,weopen slowlythedoorofIsabella'sbedroomandlockitwithabolt.Itcouldbeuncomfortable,butit isn´t. I undressed Isabella very carefully, as if it were a delicate porcelain doll that could break.Ikeepkissingherandshesmiles.Shesmilesgratefully,butIdon´twanttofeellikeI'm doingherafavour.Welayonthebed.WithanyotherwomanIwouldhavebeentothepoint, wouldhavebeenevenaggressiveandtremendouslypassionate.WithIsabellaIcan´t;Istillsee inhersickfacethatgoodinnocen
tgirlthatIfellinlovewith.IamstillcrazyaboutherandI knowthatIwillprobablysufferasmuchormoreasIdidyearsago.Ilookatherandwantto gobackintime,justwhenourpathsseparated.IwouldgobackandtelltheteenageMarknot to be traumatized and not to become the idiot he ended up being. Why? For what? It wasn´t worthit.HereIam,again,withher.Beingthatsensitiveandnaiveboywhorefusedtogivehis heart to any woman ever again. Isabella stands above me and we make love. I keep looking into her eyes. Febrile eyes that want to look away and not see the reality. The reality that perhaps,tellingusthatweareinlovewithamemoryisonlyanexcuse,nottorecognizethat ourheartsstillbelongtogether.Ithasalwaysbeenlikethis,wehaveneverreallybeenover each other. The oriental legend of the red thread may actually exist. The thread may become tenseortangledovertheyears,butitcanneverbreak.Sometimesitcanbemoreorlesstense, butitis,always,asampleofthebondthatexistsbetweentwopeopleboundbyaninvisible andidyllicredthread.

  Isabella stops looking at me, she closes her eyes and starts to feel. Surely a tingle takes hold of her body as it happens to me. An intimate moment that I will always carry with me.

  Enrapturedbypleasure,Isabellaseparatesfrommeandsighswithasmile.

  "Itwasverygood"shemurmurs.

  She covers her body with the sheet and focuses her gaze on the ceiling. I can see a tear runningdownhercheekandwithoutsayinganything,Icaressher.Shetakesmyhandandallthe musclesinhisfacetighten.ShefrownsandIcanhardlytellhowmanytearsfallfromhereyes.

  "Ihavesomethingtotellyou,Mark.Somethingveryimportant"shebeginstosay.

  "What’swrong?"

  But she can´t speak. She starts to cry more and more and then, she stands up suddenly, silentlycomplainingofanintensepainintheabdomen.

  "Isabella,let'sgotothedoctor."

  "No.Idon´twanttogotothehospital.Wait..."

  Iwaitpatiently.Ilookatherworriedly,strokingherbareback,tryingtocalmherdown,as shecontinuedtotwistinherownpain.

 

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