Training in Love (18 page)

I
feel like laughing and cover my mouth with my hand, trying to diffuse the sound
that has risen in my throat. Luckily there’s classical music in the background
and the other tables are a ways away.

“What
is it called?” Giacomo asks him.

“It’s
called ‘You’.”

No,
I can’t help it. I’m laughing, silently, but I’m laughing. I just hope that
from the outside it looks like I’m smiling at my poet friend to encourage him.

“Please,
then,” concludes Giacomo, leaving the microphone in his hand.

Andrea
turns towards me and stares. “You who are,” he says in a loud and very clear
voice as he’s heard the other poets do. “Pale light,” he pauses for effect –
this too as he’s just seen done. I smile, holding in a giggle. “You are,” with
another pause. “Sweet thorns,” pause. The smile freezes on my face. “Vulnerable
strength,” another pause. “Unresolved torment,” my smile disappears. “You are,”
I force myself not to turn away and keep holding his gaze. “Suffering beauty.”

For
an instant no-one speaks. There is absolute silence, then Andrea says, “Um,
it’s finished.”

And
everyone applauds. He looks at me, as Giacomo joins him on the stage, and
smiles triumphantly. I don’t smile back.

After
having exchanged pleasantries with Giacomo, he returns to our table.

“Aren’t
you going to compliment me?”

I
glare at him and he raises an eyebrow with an expression of false surprise.
“Didn’t you like it?”

At
that point I raise an eyebrow too and look at him condescendingly, like one of
my elementary school teachers. “Oh it was nice, too bad that you were
completely off the theme.”

“What
do you mean?”

“It
wasn’t Hermetic at all.”

He
smiles, satisfied. “The others liked it, they gave me a ton of applause.”

I
look at him coldly. “They applauded because of your pretty face, which
evidently paves the way for you even here, and then, as I told you, poets are
sensitive people.”

His
smile disappears. “Sshh.” He turns to the stage. “Let me hear the others.”

13.

“Where
are we?” Andrea asks me when we park in front of a very stately building in the
center of town.

“You’ll
find out in a minute,” I say with a giggle. He huffs.

The
workout today went well, even if we hardly spoke at all. Yesterday evening was
a little embarrassing. When he asked me what was the program for today, I told
him to meet me in front of the cafè around six-thirty. I don’t want to give him
the minimum chance of escaping today either. For this reason we’re going with
my car.

Before
the small wooden door with an antique air about it, I ring the doorbell and we
wait.

“Are
we in your car tomorrow?” He asks me in a colorless voice. “Because if we’re in
your car, I’ll start preparing myself psychologically starting now.”

I
laugh. “Tomorrow we’re in Nic’s car.”

He
jerks around at me, surprised. He parts his lips to say something, but the
little door opens and we climb the stairs to the first floor where a heavy,
black door opens almost simultaneously and the smiling face of Madame Barbieri
appears.

“Madame
Barbieri!” Exclaims Andrea with surprise.

We
go in. Madame Barbieri and I exchange a conspiratorial smile and greet each
other silently.

“Hello
Apollo dear, the dinner is already ready, come in.”

Andrea
looks at the time. It’s not even six-thirty. “Tell me we’re not going to have
dinner now…” He whispers in my ear while we follow Madame Barbieri down a long
corridor which leads to a living room of ample dimensions with a gigantic
fireplace (not lit obviously) and very classic furnishings. On the side of the
room opposite the fireplace is a table already set for three.

“Madame
Barbieri has dinner early, she told me in advance.”

“Olly…”
And his tone contains a really bizarre note – it would seem to be a warning.

He
doesn’t have time to say anything else about this, because our hostess turns
around and makes a motion for us to sit down. “I asked Rita to help me with the
dinner, then I gave her the evening off.”

Rita,
who I imagine isn’t really called Rita, is her Ukrainian pseudo-caregiver. Even
if Madame Barbieri doesn’t need a caregiver, she explained that she likes to
have someone in the house who helps with the housework, a task which, day by
day, is more arduous for her, and who, quite simply, keeps her a little company.

“Rita
won’t eat with us?” I ask because the table is set for three.

“Oh
no, she says she can’t manage eating this early.”

“Yeah,
what weird people…” Mutters Andrea darkly.

We
sit down right away and Rita loses no time. She begins immediately to arrive
with plates, like a real maid who serves course after course. Madame Barbieri
has done things up in style and has prepared two starters, two pasta dishes, a
second course, fruit, two kinds of dessert, coffee and an after dinner liquor.

And
if she permits me to eat only what I wish to, that is, a quarter of all that
which arrives, she doesn’t let up on Andrea, stuffing him and insisting with
vehemence when he attempts to refuse. I chuckle often to myself, and note that
Madame Barbieri glances at me from time to time with a smile on her lips. I
wouldn’t want to delude myself, but I think she’s being so insistent with him
to please me.

Rita
looks at me and treats me very kindly all through the dinner. It takes me a
while to realize that she must be happy to have the unexpected evening off.

When
we’ve finished what could be the combined dinners of Christmas and New Year’s,
I also help her to clear the table and clean up the kitchen. While we work in
silence, I hear Madame Barbieri and Andrea chatting in the living room.

I
come back to them drying my hands, having just finished, while Rita rushes off.
As soon as he sees me, Andrea gets up from his chair, touches his belly and
says, “Well, thank you so much for the dinner Madame Barbieri, it was delicio-”

“What
are you doing?” I ask him with an expression of innocence on my face.

“Aren’t
we going?” He replies, surprised.

“No,
that was just the dinner…” I answer as though it were obvious, when in reality
Andrea has been in the dark about my plans up until the last minute.

“Sit
down Apollo dear, while Olivia prepares the table for cards.”

“Oh,
are we playing cards?” He asks relaxing.

“Uh-huh,”
answers Madame Barbieri. In that moment the doorbell rings and she cries, “Oh,
they must already be here!”

“I’ll
go!” I say making a sign for them to stay seated. Andrea has a look of surprise
on his face, and I smile.

When
I open the door I find two elderly ladies in front of me. One is more or less
as tall as me and a little plump, while the other is a little shorter and very
thin, about the same body shape as Madame Barbieri.

They
are bejeweled as only the ladies of another era can be, especially the plump one,
and wearing lots of makeup. They have also put on about a bottle of perfume
each, I’m thinking, but they have two enormous smiles and a vitality that you
can feel bursting out even from a distance.

“You
must be Olivia dear…” Says the plumper one, smiling widely and showing a row of
beautiful straight, white teeth, but they’re probably false.

I
nod smiling and she immediately extends a hand. “Letizia, and she is Silvia.”

“A
pleasure,” I say shaking the hands of both of them.

When
we get to the living room, a green cloth is already spread out on the table –
like a genuine clandestine gambling hall – and there is a deck of cards prepared
with a notepad and pen beside it.

Andrea
turns with surprise, while I hear the happy excitement of the two ladies behind
me. “Oh Elisa, you were right - He’s a real Apollo in the flesh!” I hear
Letizia say.

Madame
Barbieri smiles nodding, while Andrea blushes. I laugh in a self-contained way
to myself. I feel I’m having fun.

“And
her?” Miss Letizia continues while she goes to sit down at the table with what seems
to be habitual motions. “Oh!” She says bringing a hand to her heart. “A
darling! With those amber eyes, so sweet!”

I
believe they are speaking about me, so it’s my turn to blush. Out of the corner
of my eye I see Andrea chuckle, in about the same way as I did just two seconds
ago.

“You
should organize evenings with the young people more often Elisa,” says Miss
Silvia. “Just looking at them I feel better.”

We
all sit down to begin to play gin rummy. After a couple of hands played more or
less in silence, Letizia starts the conversation. “So tell me darling,” by now,
that would be me, “how long have you been together?”

I’m
speechless for a minute, reddening already because I think I can guess… “Who?”
I ask anyway.

“You
and our Apollo here,” she answers with ease, throwing a card on the table.

“Oh
no, we’re just friends…”

“What
a waste!” Exclaims Letizia, and I’m sure I hear Madame Barbieri murmur, “Exactly.”

Andrea
has not lifted his eyes from his cards a single time during this exchange, but
he looks up with a jerk and an expression worth photographing when Letizia goes
on with a suddenly lower voice, “But this means that you’re free dear Apollo…”

I,
after a second of hesitation, burst out laughing loudly. I laugh so hard… so
hard I have to hold my belly, and I see Miss Silvia and Madame Barbieri who also
can’t help but laugh.

Andrea
is speechless, literally open-mouthed for a good long moment, then he turns as
red as a pepper.

“I
have an idea,” continues Miss Letizia, “Let’s leave off this immensely boring
gin rummy and let’s play strip-poker!”

I
laugh again.

“What
do you know about strip poker?” Asks Madame Barbieri with a smile.

“I
know a lot more than you think,” replies Letizia, waving a bejeweled hand
holding her fan of cards. “And don’t cramp my style, my aim for the evening is
to get him to take his clothes off.”

I’m
almost howling with laughter, while Andrea is getting even redder, if that’s
possible.

“Please
Letizia,” Silvia implores, with her thin shoulders jumping in a suspicious way.
“Leave the boy alone… We could cook two steaks on those cheeks.”

“Girls!”
Madame Barbieri calls them to order. “The young people will never return if you
treat them like this the first time they come here!”

After
Madame Barbieri’s intervention, we’re able to play more or less seriously, even
if Miss Letizia has suggested moving onto strip gin rummy, if no-one was
interested in strip poker.

“The
interesting thing,” Silvia says after a bit, resuming the conversation we
thought was concluded, “is that Olivia is still free too…”

I
clear my throat discretely.

“Yes,
she’s free. Why, have you got someone in mind?” Madame Barbieri asks her for me.

“I
was thinking I could introduce her to my nephew… Stefano… a nice and handsome
boy,” she says to me with a smile.

I
am quiet for a second, but as soon as I realize that she’s waiting for some
sort of response I hurry to say, “Oh sure, I’d be happy to.”

“Hey,
there’s my nephew that needs to set up house too!” Miss Letizia interrupts.
“Donato is a darling boy.”

I
don’t answer because a pleasant reply, just hearing the name “Donato”, does not
come spontaneously. Even if it is surely not the same Donato.

“What’s
his last name?” Asks Andrea, whose voice I’ve heard only now since Madame
Barbieri’s friends arrived.

“Why?”
Asks Letizia looking at her cards and thinking through her next move.

“I
knew a Donato, maybe he’s the same one…” He persists.

“Poggi.
From my daughter’s husband.” She answers, still not lifting her gaze. And
that’s fortunate, because I feel the blood freeze in my veins. I lower my cards
slowly.

“Did
he do the school for surveyors?” Andrea doesn’t give up. I see that he wants to
be absolutely sure that it’s him.

“Yes,
and it was a disaster. Flunked two times, but then in the end he managed to
graduate.” She looks at me to check that I don’t think badly of his scholastic
record. “But it was the school that wasn’t right for him. Now that he’s working
he’s just fine. There haven’t been any more problems.”

I
remain impassive and as still as a wax statue. Suddenly Madame Barbieri says,
“After this I’m going to sit on the sofa. I’m a little tired.”

When
the hand finishes - won by Letizia yet again – Madame Barbieri gets up and I do
the same. “You don’t mind if I stay with her while you play another hand?”

“I
don’t mind at all, but you have to see if dear Apollo can manage to handle two women
on his own…” Miss Letizia answers, bringing a smile to my lips and making
Silvia’s shoulders quake. Not satisfied, she turns to Andrea, “Do you think you
can manage dear Apollo? Hmm? Are you able to handle two women at the same
time?”

Andrea
turns as red as a pepper and lowers his gaze over his cards without answering.
Poor guy… He’s red to the ears. Maybe I overdid it this evening.

“It
depends on the women, Letizia,” Silvia answers reasonably for him.

“Quite
right,” sighs Letizia. “I alone, for example, am worth three.”

I
laugh, even though not as blithely as before, and dart a glance at Andrea, who
I believe would bury himself six meters under in this precise instant if he
could.

Madame
Barbieri goes to sit on the sofa, shaking her head as she walks and I follow
her. I sit beside her and take her hand. “I wanted to thank you for this
evening. I’ve had a wonderful time and your friends are delightful.”

She
smiles at me. “Thank
you
for coming and spending a little time with we poor
old ladies.”

I
laugh, glancing towards Letizia. “I wouldn’t say poor old ladies at all…”

Madame
Barbieri chuckles.

“Elisa…”
I say without leaving her hand, “is a beautiful name. I never knew…”

“Would
you like to call me by name?” She asks me, tilting her head.

I
think about it, playing with and looking at our hands, then I wrinkle my nose.
“It’s that… now I’m attached to ‘Madame Barbieri’…”

She
giggles and smiles.

“Listen,
if you’d like, I can come back next Tuesday… Well, obviously without Andrea…” I
launch a brief glance at him and, I don’t know what Miss Letizia is saying to
him, but he’s bordeaux. “His presence is a special case…”

Madame
Barbieri nods, without speaking.

“I
wanted to tell you something else…” I get closer, lowering my voice and looking
her straight in the eyes. “I know there’s probably no need and the thing would
be dropped and forgotten about all by itself, but to be sure…” I take a breath.
“Could you discourage Miss Letizia from introducing me to her nephew? If she
should ever bring up the idea again, I mean…”