An Infatuation (14 page)

“As a photographer. For print shoots.” I heard another long swallow.

“Do you like photography?”

“It’s okay.” After another gulp, Mario added, “Or maybe I’ll open a restaurant….
Nonna’s
.”

“That sounds nice.” I took in a deep breath. “Anyone special in your life?”

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

“You.”

I wiped away a tear. “How about Mario and Harold?” I meant the kids.

“Like you said, Harold, we’ll always be together… in your
dreams
.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll keep in touch.”

No you won’t….

After a pause, he said, “I wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Harold?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget about me, okay?”

“Never.”

I never heard from him again.

CHAPTER TEN/NOW

S
EVEN
YEARS
later, ten years after our high school reunion, one afternoon while Stuart was still at work, my doorbell rang. I opened our front double doors to Mario holding a box, looking just like he had in high school. To make me further doubt my sanity, he said, “I’m Mario Ginnetti.”

When my visitor noticed the color draining from my cheeks, he asked if we could sit down inside. Unable to speak, I nodded and somehow ended up sitting across from Mario on the loveseat next to the fireplace in my great room. I stared out our floor-to-ceiling windows at the mountain view, blinking, then looked back at Mario. He was still there. It wasn’t a hallucination.

Mario placed the box on the floor next to him. “I’m sorry for barging in like this. My mother says I’m impulsive, like my dad.”

Oh my God.
“Y-Y-You’re Mario’s son.”

He smiled and revealed his dimpled chin. “I never liked the Jr.”

After the room stopped spinning, I asked, “Can I get you something to drink, or to eat?”

“No, thanks. I can’t stay long. My boyfriend’s coming over to my house to study.” He rubbed his Roman nose. “I don’t know how much studying we’ll get done though.”

Like father, like son.
“Are you in high school?”

“Soon to enter college… on a football scholarship.”

Definitely like father, like son.

“I won’t flunk out like he did though.”

I looked into his dark eyes and remembered. “I used to tutor your father… when we were in high school.”

“I know. Dad talked about you all the time. He showed me your picture in his yearbook.”

“I got older.”

“Yeah.”

Thanks.

Mario Jr. looked around. “And you married well.”

“Stuart, my spouse, is a dot-com executive.”

“And you’re a grade school teacher, right?”

“Was. I’m the principal.”
And I’m on the national board of the Gay Lesbian Straight Education Network. I’m carrying the torch, Mr. Ringwood.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and his biceps doubled in size.

“Mario, are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

“I’m cool.” After an awkward pause, he continued. “Harold—can I call you Harold?”

“Please.”
I’m eighteen again.

“Harold, my dad said you were his best friend… his only
real
friend. He named my brother after you.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t met before this. I sort of lost touch with your father.”

“You and everybody else.”

I sat on the edge of the sofa. “Didn’t your dad move to Los Angeles seven years ago?”

He nodded. “It was after he and my mom got divorced. Except for an occasional e-mail or text message, we didn’t hear much from him… until last week.”

“What happened last week?” I felt a line of sweat dripping down my back.

“My brother, and of course my mother, are really bitter. But I can’t hate my dad, no matter how hard I try.”

“Why is that, Mario?”

“Maybe because like you… and I guess like him, I’m gay.”

My heart raced. “Mario, please tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know everything.”

“Then tell me what you know, please.”

His rosy cheeks got redder. “Harold, were you and my dad lovers?”

My palpitations had palpitations. “No. Yes. It’s really complicated.”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Okay, I get it. It’s none of my business.”

“No.” I took in a deep breath. “I loved your dad, Mario.”

“He loved you too.”

“How do you know that?” My hands were soaking wet.

Mario Jr. picked up the box at his feet and handed it to me. “Before he died, my dad wanted you to have this.”

I dropped the box on my lap like it was on fire.

Mario Jr. sat closer to me. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

My body was shaking. Mario Jr. hurried to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and brought it to me. After a sip, I croaked out, “Please tell me what happened.”

Mario Jr. sat back down on the loveseat. “Well, my father became a photographer in LA. I think he got mixed up with a wild crowd, parties, liquor, drugs, sex.”

“But how did he…?”

“They think it was an overdose.”

“Accidental?”

“They don’t know.”

I took his hand. “Mario, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

It suddenly occurred to me. “Mario, are you, and Harold, and your mom okay with money? Do you need…?”

“We’re fine. Harold and I got scholarships to college. My mom remarried a guy in the mob.”

“I don’t know what to say. You must miss him.”

“I miss my
old
dad. The guy who used to play football with me, bitch with me about Mom, make my brother and me laugh by making funny faces, and tell us about his glory days in high school… with
you
.”

I sat back and stared at the ceiling, too in shock to cry. I suddenly remembered the box on my lap. “What should I do with this box?”

“Open it.”

“Now?”

Mario Jr. nodded. “My dad lost everything he had. All we got were his clothes. My mother wanted to burn them. I took them.” He raised his palms upward. “He was my dad.”

Words were coming to me slowly. “How do you know your father wanted me to have… this?”

“A neighbor in LA found him and called the police.”

I opened the box and held up a letter in an envelope, addressed to me.

“The police looked through his apartment, it was just a room. They found that letter. We had it sent, along with his clothes, his will… and his body, to us.”

“Why did you put this letter in a box?”

Mario Jr.’s huge pectoral muscles heaved up, then rested back in place. “Read the letter, Harold.”

“Out loud?”

“If you don’t mind.”

I slowly opened the envelope and held the letter. My voice, and hand, shook as I read. “Harold, I’ve been sitting here thinking about the old days. Thinking about how I went from something so right to something so wrong. Everything made sense back then. And nothing makes any sense now. Maybe your mom was right, and we pick our family members and friends to learn something from them. If so, I know why I picked you to be in my life. You looked at me and showed me all the good things I could have been. To you I was perfection. No matter what I was or did, you loved me unconditionally. I wish I could love someone like that, Harold. I wish I could have been the guy you thought I was. I wish I could have been the hero. I hope we will be together in another life, Harold. And if so, the next time around, I hope I’m half the man you are. I hope I have your strength, courage, and ability to love and to be loved. You were right to choose Stuart. I’m glad you are happy with him. And I hope you still think about me sometimes. I’m putting my will next to this letter so my family knows what I want. Never forget me, Harold. I love you. See you in another place and time. See you in your dreams.”

Mario Jr. wiped his eyes. “Dad’s will stated that you should get his ashes.”

I opened the box and picked up a small urn. My tears flowed freely.

Somehow I managed to see Mario Jr. to the door, thank him, and ask him if I could be a part of his life. Thankfully he agreed, and thankfully he’s kept his promise so far.

Now, a month later, as I conclude where I began, I stare at Mario’s urn on my fireplace mantel, next to Ms. Hunsley’s plaque with the quote from Shelley. I feel so lucky, so blessed to have had my passion, my flame, my cherished one, my infatuation. And to still have him… in the world of my fantasies.

Stuart has just come down the stairs to tell me some good news. Our surrogate mother is in labor… with our son.
We’re going to be parents!
I think of my mother. Stuart and I embrace, and we share a number of happy kisses.

As we rush out the door to drive to the hospital, I think of Mario. Stuart takes out his car keys, turns to me, and says, “I know. We’re naming him
Mario
.” I kiss Stuart’s cheek.

Isn’t he the best?

About the Author

J
OE
C
OSENTINO
began as an actor appearing in principal acting roles in film, television, and theater, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. Watching him on YouTube, his students said, “You were cute when you were young.” He moved on to playwriting and directing, where his plays were published and produced in NYC, regionally, and on tour. Upon writing fiction, his mother said, “Don’t you have anything better to do than write books?” He replied, “I wonder if Shakespeare’s mother said that to him?” All’s well that ends well, as his mother, other family members, and friends love his published books. He hopes this book is made into a movie and he can play Mr. Ringwood, bringing his career full circle. It’s all in the family since his spouse is an audiobook performer.

Joe received his MFA from Goddard College in Vermont and MA from SUNY New Paltz. He is currently Head of the Department/Professor of Theater at a college in upstate New York, where he and his spouse designed and had built an environmentally friendly home. Joe is a member of an open and affirming church and does fundraising for GLSEN.

He hopes people young and old will be infatuated with this book, and he loves to hear from readers at http://joecosentino.weebly.com/ and http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4071647.Joe_Cosentino.

Copyright

Published by

D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

An Infatuation

© 2015 Joe Cosentino.

Cover Art

© 2015 Christy Caughie.

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-483-4

First Edition February 2015

Printed in the United States of America