Training in Love

by Manuela Pigna

  I’m trying to get used to this by concentrating on myself, on my objectives, on celebrating small triumphs. Maybe for normal women sixty-eight kilos is a scary weight, a point which sends them scrambling to fix it, to go on a diet, that makes them feel like covering up. Instead I’m uncovering, or at least that’s what I’ve decided to do. Sure, I was afraid and had lots of second thoughts over the two hours from when I organized with Linda right after my workout, but… as I’ve been doing everything since I started, I did the same today - I made a little effort to resist the initial sense of unease. And it’s true that if you’re patient, after a while the sense of awkwardness fades and you begin to feel better.

  It was like that this afternoon, when I had to take off my clothes to lie down half naked on a towel in front of strangers. But I persisted, I made an effort and I did it. Now I’m relaxed. I won’t say I’m completely comfortable, but relaxed. I’ve been sunbathing all afternoon. I turn over and over like a breaded veal cutlet, interrupted by brief, refreshing dips in the pool. Linda and I chat, but on a couple of occasions we were quiet, a little dozy. Linda’s about to finish college. She’ll be graduating next month in languages, English and Russian, and she’d like to go away for a while both to England and Russia to perfect them. Marco, graduating this year in philosophy, isn’t really of the same mind. He’d prefer to stay here, but he likes the idea of letting her go away alone a lot less. This is what Linda’s telling me – about their discussions, their plans, her dreams, his dreams and all the things that she can’t tell me when we’re together with the others.

  “I’ll come to visit you,” I say with certainty though dreamily, while I watch the sun sinking down.

  “Even in Russia?”

  “Are the Russians hot?” I ask seriously.

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes, even in Russia.”

  We burst out laughing and take each other by the hand, staying stretched out side by side looking at the sky.

  “What did Nic tell you last Saturday, when you hugged?” Asks Linda out of the blue. I’m thinking she’s wanted to pull out a certain topic all day and hasn’t known how to do it.

  “We were talking about Andrea,” I reply quickly, because I tell Linda everything.

  “Because you like him?”

  At this I hesitate for a fraction of a second, because I’m human. “Yes.”

  “So now you confide in Nic and not me?”

  I laugh. “Ah, no… He probably saw my expression of desperation when the model who Andrea invited showed up at midnight. And when he asked me a direct question about it, it seemed ridiculous to deny it. That’s all.”

  Linda is quiet for a long time. The evening is falling. People are beginning to prepare their things to leave and I feel a cool breeze on my skin.

  “Actually, Nic already told me everything,” Linda says after a while.

  “Oh, ok.”

  I hear her take a breath to say something, but then she doesn’t. She tries again and doesn’t. So I sit up with my legs crossed on the towel and say, “Lindy, I know you want to tell me something. Quit dancing around it and tell me.”

  She huffs, looking at me, and then directs her blue headlights towards the sky again, staying prone. I feel a little dizzy.

  “The fact is that…” She begins, “I’m not at all convinced about the model.”

  “Oh my God, no…” I say putting a hand on my forehead.

  “I don’t know Olly… I don’t get certain things. How he looks at you, that expression he has on his face at times when he looks at you…” She sighs. “And the kiss. The kiss in the cafè… Nic’s right, that kiss… I was there, just like Nic, and I saw that kiss perfectly well – his face and his expression when he was about to do it…”

  “Are you through?” I ask with a weary air.

  She looks at me in silence. “I… really have the feeling that he feels something. You shouldn’t let yourself be thrown off by some girl who in all probability is no-one and it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Are you through now?”

  She thinks for a bit. “Yes, I’m through.”

  “Good. So let’s analyze the situation. He’s with me three times a week, last week even every day. When we’re together what does he do? Nothing, nothing more than kindness and courtesy. Oh, and the kiss, yes, this famous kiss…” I pause as though I’m thinking about it when in reality I already know what I think. “It was a crappy kiss! Probably, in a certain sense, it bothered him that I was the only one who didn’t launch myself with my coin purse in front of him and he had to remedy it in some way…” I take a breath. “And yes, I’ll agree that he feels something for me and that you see it when he looks at me. Probably he is genuinely fond of me and is also satisfied with all the work we’ve done. And you know why I’m sure about this? Because the moment he is free, for instance, I don’t know, when the clock strikes at one particular midnight, he has a pseudo-top model meet him and he leaves.” I look at her with tired eyes and she listens to me in silence. “If he were like you and Nic say he is, he would have stayed, and by himself. That’s how a normal person who feels something for someone acts, he doesn’t leave with someone else! Especially someone like Andrea, who hasn’t got any problems with self-esteem, shyness, etc. Often the simplest explanation is the right one Lindy.”

  “Hmm,” is Linda’s comment.

  “Hmm, what?”

  “Well, for example, we think differently about this too. I’ve watched him a lot lately and I don’t see that he’s as sure of himself as you describe him. And he’s also a little shy I think… maybe not as much as you, but he is.”

  Suddenly, I see him again in my car in the half light, confessing with his face tense that he feels like a shell sometimes. Right after, however, I see another image – his back and that of the pseudo-model leaving the cafè Saturday evening. A streak of anger runs through me. I shake my head. “You know what, Lindy? You love me too much and aren’t able to be objective about me and things regarding me.”

  At this point Linda sits down suddenly. “I’m plenty objective deary!”

  I cross my arms, tilting my head with an expression of skepticism.

  “If I were biased, if I only thought of the affection I have for you and for myself, I’d push you to get involved with Nic. Certainly not with Andrea.”

  “Nic?”

  “Of course! We’d be sisters-in-law, you and I! It would mean I’d have you by my side for the family dinners and lunches, for all the holidays in general. If you see what I mean!”

  I raise my eyebrows, listening with interest.

  “But Nic… he loves you, but as a friend or a sister. He doesn’t have that light in his eyes… I don’t know. And then, Nic is not at all ready for a serious relationship. And in my opinion he has a personality that, after a while, you wouldn’t be able to stand.”

  When I don’t say anything she concludes, “You see that I’m objective, right?”

  “Alright, you’re objective, but you don’t know Andrea well and… that’s enough of telling me these things, all of you! You, Nic, Madame Barbieri… Don’t you understand that you make me feel worse? I delude myself like that. I think that… maybe… then the model arrives and… ta da! A smack in the face.” I sigh. “Leave it alone. If he wanted something from me, he’d have already done something. He’s just my personal trainer. Period.”

  Linda doesn’t answer.

  “I’ll do what Nic said to do. I’ll keep it up as long as I can. Until it becomes too painful and as long as I’m not forced to see him with the girls he goes out with every two seconds. Then that’ll be it. Anyway, sooner or later it had to end. I’m not going to go on with a personal trainer for the rest of my days…”

  Linda is silent for a while, biting her lower lip and staring at her feet. “You know something? Crap, you’re right.”

  “Oh! Finally!”

  She snaps her head up. “Can we go cause I’m dying of hunger?”

  I stand up l
aughing, but I immediately feel very dizzy.

  “Are you alright?”

  I nod. “My head hurts a little…” I say rubbing it and starting to put my things away.

  When we arrive in front of the twins’ house the sky is still light, but the sun has begun to set and the pain in my head has grown exponentially. I feel hot too.

  “Will you come in for a minute?” Linda asks, as she always does.

  I shake my head, then think again. “I’ll just get a glass of water. I don’t feel well at all…”

  “You look pretty pale…” Linda says getting out.

  While we walk towards the door of the twins’ house it opens and out come Nic and Andrea with two girls. Nic is hand in hand with Andrea’s model from last week (they even swap them… disgusting!) while Andrea is laughing at the side of another girl I’ve never seen. She’s shorter than the model and very thin with long, straight chestnut hair and brown eyes.

  We exchange greetings, but I must be distracted and greet them a little badly as we pass in opposite directions because both Andrea and Nic turn towards us blocking the way. Andrea asks a generic, “Everything okay?”

  Linda and I turn around and Linda answers, “Yes, Olly doesn’t feel very well… nothing serious.”

  That said, we both move to continue towards the door at the same time, as though we had an agreement. But before opening and going in we’re stopped again.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I almost run into Andrea whom I suddenly find close by. I dart an empty and painful glance over his shoulders and meet Nic’s gaze. He’s listening silently and has a too-serious look on his face.

  “It looks like I got too much sun all at once…” I answer frowning. And this movement makes my head hurt even more. I quickly lift a hand to my temple.

  “I’ll take you home,” says Andrea, placing a hand on my elbow.

  “No, no thanks, I can manage,” I reply turning around again towards the door, and so doing, freeing myself from his touch. In the malaise that is persistently occupying my mind, I am aware of feeling a serpent of irritation slithering inside. Why is he being so caring? It would be better if he treated me badly…

  I hear the door open again and Marco appears on the step. I look at him, waving silently and swallowing down an attack of nausea. I don’t feel at all well…

  Marco, perhaps understanding my painful state, takes a step towards me extending his arm, “Olly…”

  I put my hand in his going towards him and Andrea appears at my side between me and him.

  “Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t drive Olly…” He says, worried.

  I look at him and detest him. Truly. “I just have a little headache, and I feel hot. I can drive.” I glance at the girls who are waiting a short distance away and I resist saying, “Go to your girlfriend, or is it girlfriends?” Just barely, but I do stop myself.

  He’s about to speak but I look at him with an air of fatigue, exhaustion and maybe a little suffering. He gazes at me with his brow furrowed. He opens his mouth and seems to want to speak, to say something, to continue to discuss it. He seems worried. In the end, he says nothing, closes his mouth and looks at Marco for a longer instant, nods and says goodbye.

  I don’t stay to watch him leave. I quickly turn around and finally go into the house. My head is splitting, pulsing, but I feel an instant relief from the waves of heat in the cool of the entrance.

  I sigh and turn towards Linda and Marco. He is looking at me worriedly, she with a smug smirk on her face.

  “Don’t you dare say anything…” I threaten her and she bursts out laughing.

  Marco looks at us but doesn’t understand this exchange. Fortunately he’s used to it. In fact he remains indifferent and doesn’t ask us anything. In the kitchen I drink a little cool water and for a while no-one speaks. I can’t wait to go home, to lie down in my room.

  “Can I take you home?” Linda asks with a wise smile.

  “Yes, you can,” I reply immediately, looking at the glass in my hand.

  Linda turns to Marco. “Will you follow me with your car while I drive hers?”

  “Sure,” he answers, shrugging.

  When I finally get up from my chair in the kitchen, dull with pain and feeling ill, I feel a little nostalgic so I hug Linda on impulse and say, “I love you.”

  I hear her say, “Me too.”

  I look up a little teary-eyed from my sun-induced heaviness at Marco and tell him, “I love you too.”

  He laughs, showing a row of perfect, white teeth, and answers with an amused, “Me too.”

  18.

  It’s about eight-thirty on a Thursday morning in mid-July when Donato Poggi comes into my cafè.

  Madame Barbieri is seated on her usual stool, a little to the left, and Andrea, a lot earlier than Nic, is sitting next to her because I’m at the counter today.

  We are chatting about this and that while I dry the glasses with a dishtowel. I smile, relaxed, at peace with the world, until I look up and see him enter, looking around for a moment before joining us.

  Ten years have gone by, but I recognize him immediately. Maybe my subconscious or my body recognized him before my brain did. In any case, when he leans on the counter and looks at me with his brown eyes, I feel my heart in my throat and am afraid I’m having a panic attack.

  “Can a person get a cappuccino?” He asks me in an indifferent tone.

  I’m not able to breathe for a couple of seconds, then I set down the glasses and the dishtowel, I untie my apron and, as I take it off, I turn towards Andrea. Looking him straight in the eyes I tell him icily, “You and I are finished.”

  Andrea visibly pales. I don’t wait for his answer. I head quickly toward the kitchen where I find Leo intent on putting something in the oven. “Leo, I don’t feel well. I want to go home.” I never do this, I never lie about my health to skip work, but extreme situations merit extreme remedies.

  He looks up surprised and stares at me silently for a second with his eyebrows raised.

  I meet his gaze with a ferocious look and my arms crossed over my chest. Let’s say that I don’t exactly have the air of someone sick and suffering.

  “Olly,” he begins slowly, “What’s happening?”

  “What’s happening is that I feel sick and I want to go home,” I say in an overly aggressive way.

  He studies me for another couple of seconds, then he sighs and takes my arms. “What is the problem?”

  “There’s no problem, I just want to go home,” I communicate without being able to hold his gaze.

  “You’re a lousy liar,” he whispers, almost affectionately.

  “I know,” I retort, looking at my shoes.

  “Tell me what it is.” His tone is so tender and sweet that I involuntarily look up.

  I find myself spitting out the truth without even wanting to, “There’s a guy that I don’t want to serve.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

  I nod.

  “If I serve him will you stay?”

  I nod again.

  He looks at me, frowning just for a moment, then he sighs and shakes his head. He lets me go and immediately heads towards the door between the kitchen and the cafè. “A guy she doesn’t want to serve…” I hear him grumble. “Now that’s a big problem…” I see him shake his head again while I follow him out.

  When we reach the counter, I get my apron and Leo plants all his bulk in front of Donato Poggi. “May I help you?” Leo asks in a cold voice.

  “Oh, at last…” He grumbles, shooting me a nasty look. “A cappuccino and a chocolate croissant.”

  Leo nods and begins to prepare his order.

  While I wrap the apron around my hips, I hear Andrea call me, “Olly?”

  I ignore him.

  “Olly?”

  I even see him reach out an arm and I move to the right, towards Donato Poggi. Look at the crap he makes me do!

  “Olivia?” I look up, my arms frozen behind m
y back in the act of tying the apron. “Olivia Balestra?”

  The creep recognizes me!

  I swallow. Andrea quits calling me and out of the corner of my eye I see him turn towards my former schoolmate.

  I nod as the jerk has the nerve to run his eyes over my body. What… a jerk! God!

  I see him pull a small smile and take a breath to speak, so I have to flee immediately.

  In fact, I finish tying the apron and move down the counter to the other end almost running. I step down and go towards the bathrooms. I don’t know what for, maybe just to hide until he leaves.

  I don’t reach the bathrooms because in the corridor which separates the toilets from the dining room I find myself in dire straits. I find a frowning Leo in front of me. Behind him I see Andrea and Madame Barbieri too.

  Andrea is the tallest, but Leo is the biggest and his mass occupies almost all of my visual field. “Do you know him?” He asks me tersely.

  I just nod.

  Leo only hesitates an instant before asking, “What did he do to you?”

  I stare at him without answering. I slowly shake my head.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  I make a gesture – no.

  He sighs. “At least tell me if I have to throw him out of the cafè…”

  I shake my head again, relaxing my shoulders slightly. “No, but… I don’t want to serve him.”

  Leo nods. “Okay, anyway he’s already eating and drinking. In a little bit he’ll leave.”

  I nod, now definitely more calm.

  Leo sighs again, lingers for a moment with his gaze and then lets go of my arms, quickly disappearing from sight.

  I find Andrea in his place, pale and with his jaw clenched. He stares. “Olly…”

  “Do-not-speak-to-me,” I command harshly, moving away from the wall and going closer to him. I’m vibrating with anger. “Cancel my number. Cancel my image from your memory. Don’t come around again. Don’t… you dare…” I take a hissing breath through my teeth, “Come here again.”

  He takes a step backwards, surprised, as though I’d thrown him a punch. “Olly…”