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Authors: Manuela Pigna

BOOK: Training in Love
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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 my 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…”

“Shut
up. Don’t speak,” I continue in a low voice. “Don’t speak. I warned you…” He
raises his eyebrows. “I warned you that I wouldn’t forgive you… and there it
is, I don’t forgive you!”

I
start to leave, but he shakes himself and blocks my escape route. He takes me
by the arm and pushes me against the wall. “Wait! I don’t get any of this! What
are you talking about?” He asks me with his face almost mutated by an emotion I
don’t recognize.

I
laugh, bitterly to be sure. “Oh please…”

He
inhales. “Who is that guy?”

I
narrow my eyes. I make them as small as too cracks, two wounds. “As though you
didn’t know…”

“And
in fact I don’t know!” He cries, upset.

I
try to free my arm but he doesn’t let me go.

“Children.”
I suddenly hear the calm voice of Madame Barbieri. I had forgotten she was here.
I turn towards her as she appears at my side. She has a hand delicately placed
on Andrea’s outstretched arm. “Explain to a poor old woman what is happening
please. I’ve lost the thread.”

I
am angry, I’m boiling, I’m furious… but I am not able to not answer her.
Courtesy dictates it and her slight figure is, by now, so dear to me that my
obligation is even greater. Sighing, I turn to her. “It happens that I told
this arrogant and bossy piece of idiot that I didn’t want to close any circles
with Donato Poggi. But as usual, he didn’t listen to me and did what he wanted
to do!”

Madame
Barbieri frowns, but I don’t know what she’s about to say because Andrea beats
her to it. He shakes me and, doing this, turns me towards him. “Is that him?
That’s him?”

I
look at him blackly without answering.

“Who
is Donato Poggi?” Madame Barbieri asks.

“He’s
the nephew of Miss Letizia that I didn’t want to meet because I already know
him and…” I leave the sentence hanging, fixing my gaze on her and I see a flash
of understanding in her eyes.

“That’s
him?” Andrea asks again. He seems incredulous.

I
ignore him.

“Excuse
me Olivia dear, but I still don’t understand what Andrea has to do with
Letizia’s nephew.”

I
sigh, yanking my arms, but without any result, with my face turned towards the
elderly lady who, by now, I consider my friend. “When we played cards at your
house, on the way back, he suggested that I meet him to ‘close a circle’, that
he would be there to help me. But I told him no, that I didn’t want to do it at
all and he did it anyway!” I conclude, raising my voice and turning towards
Andrea, looking at him with this betrayal in my eyes.

“But
I didn’t do it Olly!” He blurts out shaking me, with a crazed look and an
urgency in his voice.

“Stop,
stop, children,” Madame Barbieri interrupts. “So Andrea knows why you don’t
want to see him?”

“Yes!”
I cry fervently.

Something
passes over the face of the woman, but it’s too fast for me to read it and she
advances with another question, “And you think that Letizia’s nephew is here
right now because of Andrea?”

“Yes!”

She
turns to him, “While you, Andrea, are not involved in this?”

“No!”
He exclaims vehemently.

Madame
Barbieri sighs.

He
turns towards me. “I didn’t do anything Olly. This time I swear to God that I
didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me!”

“Wait!”
Exclaims Madame Barbieri. “Let’s go, I have an idea.” So saying she turns and trots
towards the dining room. We watch her, hesitating just a few seconds, and then
follow of common accord, but Andrea doesn’t let go of my arm.

Madame
Barbieri perches once again on her stool. Andrea finally lets go of me when I
have to step up behind the counter and goes back to sit in his place.

Leo
has disappeared, while Donato Poggi has finished his croissant and is sipping
his cappuccino. When he sees me return, he looks up and follows me with his
gaze. “Olivia Balestra…” He murmurs, “Olly.”

Moby
for you, jerk…

“Olivia
dear,” Madame Barbieri intervenes, “Do you know this young man?”

“Vaguely,”
I mutter, glancing at him.

He
suddenly freezes on his stool. He straightens up and a slow smile appears on
his lips. He’s still a handsome boy, more mature, maybe a little less
fresh-faced, but his fine features have remained. “Vaguely?” He asks
sarcastically. “I can’t believe it… You’ve forgotten me…” He eyes run over my
figure again. “You wound me,” he says with the voice of someone who is just
fine.

I
am reddening, but with anger, not shame. In that moment I notice a fleeting
movement on the edge of my vision. Andrea is glaring at him. He has a hand
resting on the counter which continues to open and close and when it closes,
his knuckles are white.

“How
did you meet, Olivia dear?” Madame Barbieri asks.

I
don’t know what she wants to demonstrate with this horrible conversation, but I
want to follow her wherever she wants to go with it. “At school.”

“Oh!”
She turns towards Donato Poggi. “So, young man, you’re here for a school
reunion?”

He
turns to Madame Barbieri and, when he sees her, he makes a face. Rude, as well
as being a jerk. “What reunion? I didn’t know Balestra was here…”

I
take a deeper breath, a breath that finally reaches my lungs and I turn towards
Andrea. He turns to me at the same moment. We look in each other’s eyes. We
have a non-verbal conversation, I’m more than certain of it.

“Forgive
me, I didn’t know anything about it. I accused you unjustly.”

“I
told you I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I’m
sorry.”

“It’s
okay.”

And
his gaze is so sweet now that I have to tear mine away if I don’t want to liquefy
right then and there.

“Anyway
you look good Balestra. Really very, very good,” says an unpleasant voice,
unfortunately still present.

“You,
on the contrary, are the same.” I don’t know why I’m speaking to him. I had
sworn to ignore him and pretend he didn’t exist if I ever met him again in my
life. The fact that Andrea is not involved with all this must have gone to my
head.

“Still
handsome?” He asks with a slap-worthy face.

“No,”
I reply tersely, and his smile evaporates.

“Oh,”
he says, lowering his gaze to his spoon. Then, with studied nonchalance, he
continues, “Too bad, I had half an idea to give you my number…” He lifts his
eyes to mine, his obnoxious smile has returned. “But maybe you’re not
interested.”

“In
fact, I’m not interested,” I reply immediately. His smile disappears another
time. I decide that, now or never, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. If I
waste it, in all probability there won’t be another. Following my instinct,
following a crazy idea, I come closer to him. I lean over the counter coming nearer
to his face, to bring my lips not too far from his ear. “And you know why I’m
not interested?” I ask in a low voice with an ingratiating tone. “Because I
wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last man on the face of the
earth, jerk.”

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