Runaway Love (17 page)

“I must leave you now,” Bernardo said.  “I have many criminals to catch.”  He marched out of the shop.  

Genie felt embarrassed when, after Bernardo's intense machinations, all she wanted was a drawing pad, some suitable pencils, and an eraser.  She was also embarrassed when the owner tried to waive the charge.  However, she insisted and paid him what he asked.  Even then she was certain he undercharged her.  But, at least, she felt she'd managed a small victory. 

“Let's see if this'll get you started painting again, Lorenzo Calderone,” she said, making her way to the rink for a cup of coffee and to catch up on the local gossip with her new friends.

Chapter Thirty

That same evening, Genie initiated her plan.  Sitting in front of the log fire after dinner, she put pencil to her new pad.

“What are you doing?” Lorenzo asked.

“Drawing.” She looked up at Lorenzo for a second and then added a few lines to those already scattered over the page.

“I didn't know you could draw.”

“I don't know, either,” Genie said.  “I thought that since I'm in the home of an artist, I'd better do as artists do.”

Lorenzo laughed.   “Let me see how you're getting on.”

“Ah-ah.  Not yet.  Wait until it's finished.”  She glanced at him again and held up her pencil vertically and squinted at it, and Lorenzo beyond, through one eye.  She'd seen artists do it on TV.  What she was supposed to achieve by it, she had no idea, but, it looked professional - sort of. 

“You're drawing me?”

“Yep.”

“Haven't you had enough of me?  You have worn out your camera taking so many photographs.”  He lounged back and stretched out his legs.  “And now, a drawing of me.  I think you will wear me out, too.”

Continuing to work and already struggling to create a face that looked like a face, let alone Lorenzo's face, she said, “I was inspired by your paintings.”

“Thank you.  I will wait to see how inspired you are.” 

“If I get it wrong, will you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise,” he said, a smile already beginning to form.

“Your mouth twitched,” Genie said, frowning to show her disapproval.

“Vero?  Perhaps I am nervous.”

Half an hour later, Genie had produced a sketch of something like a face.  As for being a likeness of Lorenzo's face, however...  Drawing was a lot harder than she thought it would be.  Somewhat embarrassed, she shuffled across the couch to show Lorenzo.

“Interesting,” he said.

“There's no need to humour me, Lorenzo,” Genie said.  “It's a mess, and we both know it.”

“A little bit.  But it can be recovered.”

He beckoned for Genie to hand over the pencil and eraser and went to work on the drawing.  He re-shaped the features deftly, adding shading to the facial contours here and there to bring the face to life. 

But the expression on Lorenzo's living face fascinated Genie even more.  He focused on his pencil work with an intensity that should have burned a hole in the pad.  He was totally isolated from the rest of the world - at one with the image taking form on the paper.  This was Lorenzo Calderone, the artist.  

“There,” Lorenzo said, breaking into her reverie.  He held the pad out at arm's length for Genie and him to see.

“You devil.  That's me,” Genie said, giving him a playful punch on his arm.  “You ruined my beautiful drawing of you and turned it into me.”

“I couldn't see me.  Your face is the only one here for me to draw.”

“Very funny.”

Lorenzo gave her a wide grin and handed her the pad.

“It's incredible,” Genie said, studying the drawing.  “I don't know how you do it.”

“I'm glad you like it,” he said.

“You have a special gift, Lorenzo.”  She rested the pad carefully on her lap and continued to hold it with both hands.

“You have too.  I've seen you working with your camera.”

“It's not the same.  I point the camera and capture and image with a single click.” 

“So I've noticed - over and over again.”

“You start with a blank sheet, a pencil and a paintbrush, and use your skill to capture an image from nothing.  You have a special gift.”

Lorenzo smiled.  “You flatter me too much.”

“Will you do me a favour, Lorenzo?”  She shifted her body slightly to break contact.  

“Of course.”

“Will you draw Domino for me?”

He furrowed his brow.  “Domino?”

“You can draw dogs, can't you?”

“Well, yes.”

“I'd like it very much.  It's something I can keep - to remind me - not that I'll ever forget.  As a memento, then” Genie risked all by engaging him with a steady gaze - adding an extra bonus of wide-eyed innocence for good measure.

“Okay,” he said, “Let's see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling heartened that her plan was beginning to work.

The sketch took a mere fifteen minutes.  Throughout the exercise, Lorenzo kept up a running commentary to explain what he was doing, “In case you decide to draw me again,” he said.  “I'd like it to look like me next time.” 

For Genie, it was a sketching lesson from a master.  

At the end of it all, the pad held an image of Domino that was equally as realistic as one of Genie's photographs.

She studied the drawing for a few seconds, then in fun, she showed it to Domino.”  “Look Dom.  This is you. What d'you think?”

His extended groan sounded not unlike that made by human pretending embarrassment - while being secretly delighted - when seeing their own photographed image.

“Thank you, Lorenzo.” She gave a short laugh.  “Should you sign it, or something?”

“You want my autograph now?”

“Well, when you become famous, it could be worth a lot of money.”

“Now you want me to make you a fortune?”

“I wouldn't sell it, of course.”  She handed the pad back with a pencil.  “But I will brag about it.”

He laughed and scrawled his signature across the bottom.

Genie touched his signature with her fingers, love swelling her heart.  “I'll never sell it, Lorenzo,” she repeated.

“Okay.”

“Will you ever paint again?”

“É difficile.”

She held his gaze. “All these weeks when I didn't have my camera, I couldn't wait to get back to taking pictures.  Don't you feel like that sometimes?”

“You ask too many questions, Genie.”

“I seem to remember when the reverse was true.”

He snorted. “Vero.  And you didn’t answer my questions either.”

They both laughed and then fell into a comfortable silence.

After a few seconds, Genie began to sense that her plan was in danger of falling apart.  It needed another boost. “Lorenzo,” she said, “when I look at these two drawings, and remember the paintings in your studio, I just think it'd be a shame if you never painted again.”

“I'm sure the world will survive.”

“But it will not be as beautiful.”

“That's a nice thing to say, Genie but, I'm not sure it's true.”  He frowned and stared at the fire. 

Genie's heart sank as she watched Lorenzo withdraw within himself.  She'd seen this before and knew what it meant. 

Anna

“She was...my life,” Lorenzo said in almost a whisper. 

Genie opened her mouth to respond, but held back.  What could she say anyway?  He'd now brought Anna here.  She - Genie Hamilton had caused it.  Better to remain silent.

“Anna was the inspiration behind my paintbrush.”  His lengthy pause filled the room with a heavy sadness.  “With her, it was a close to perfect as it could be.”

Genie's heart shrank.  How could she ever get close to perfect?  It was such a high standard. 

Suddenly he looked towards Genie but she could see that he was staring into the middle distance.  He was looking but not really seeing. “I loved her from the moment I saw her.”

The romantic in Genie thought it that was wonderful.  The love for Lorenzo in her, she recognized, would definitely have to remain unrequited.

“When she died,” Lorenzo continued, “everything died with her.”  He flicked his head in the general direction of the studio. “I painted her portrait as a way of keeping her alive.”  A frown formed.  “I did not have the strength to pick up a brush ever since.”

At that moment, Genie realized she had her answer.  He would never paint again.  Anna took his inspiration with her.

He certainly wouldn't paint for her - Genie Hamilton.   The memory of Anna was too strong. 

Genie loved him for his loyalty.

She loved him for the love that he had - that he held on to. 

Nevertheless, she began to sink into a vast chasm of emptiness.  She'd known all along that Anna was still a giant in Lorenzo's mind and heart.  He had shown it in so many ways.  She'd tried to ignore it - and, to her shame - deep down, she'd even wished to supplant her.

Now it was clear.  Anna would always be here.  No one, or nothing, would supplant her.  Lorenzo carried her with him all the time. 

True, there had been moments - wonderful moments.  She had felt a passion in his kiss that was real and exciting.  Was it a moment of uncontrolled desire?  Was it just because she - Genie Hamilton - was there? 

Perhaps, in his imagination, he was kissing Anna?

Could she have been the ghost of Anna he held in his arms on the ice?

Genie's sense of loss was profound.  How could she think of remaining with Lorenzo and 'it be as perfect as it could be'?  How could she even begin to compete with a dead woman on such a high pedestal?  Lorenzo had practically elevated her to sainthood. 

Saint Anna vs. plain old Genie Hamilton.

No contest.

It wouldn't work.

Abruptly, Lorenzo snapped out of his reverie.  “I'm sorry Genie.  I should not have burdened you with my self-pity.”

“Why not?”  She leaned forward and caressed Domino's ear to prevent Lorenzo seeing the sadness in her eyes.  “We're friends - you and I.  You can say what you like to a friend.”

The St. Bernard lifted his head and pressed it against her hand in delight.  He followed it with a snuffly groan of pleasure.

“This is your gift, Genie,” he said.  “Helping people to open themselves.  I've never talked to anybody like that before - about Anna.” Pausing, he frowned.  “Catartico...eme...cathartic - is that the right word.”

“Yes.”

“Si.  It was a cathartic.”  He nodded to confirm.  “To put it outside of me.  It has been inside for too long.  Si.  Cathartic.” He nodded again.

Genie responded with a nod of her own and raised a smile.  It was not a very good smile.

Lorenzo lurched to his feet.  “I think I'd like an espresso before I go to bed.  Shall I get one for you?”

“No thanks, Lorenzo.  I'm fine.”  She eased herself out of the chair.  “I'm ready to put the day behind me too.  One of your espressos may cause me to extend it more than I want.”

“Okay.  Then - Buona notte, Genie.” He turned abruptly and strode to the kitchen. 

“Good night, Lorenzo.”  She watched him disappear into the kitchen.

“That's the problem, Dom” she said, the wetness in her eyes steadily increasing in volume.  “There'll always be Anna.” She leaned down and cupped his jaw in her hand.  “And you, Dom, of course.  There'd always be you.”

Domino grunted with pleasure.

“We've come a long way Dom - you and your snuffles.” Her tears spilled over and dripped from her face. “But, now, my friend, I think it's time for me to leave.”  

Chapter Thirty-One

Genie eased her Mercedes slowly through the narrow pass, her vision blurred by free-flowing tears.  Shadows cast by the mid-morning sun appeared to be black holes, threatening to suck her in.  The walls each side appeared to ebb and flow through her watered vision and they occasionally sprayed her car with light snow. 

She thought about stopping to let her vision clear.  But she just as quickly vetoed that idea.  If she did, she may never start again.  She did have a passing wish to the universe, though.  A sudden blizzard to block the pass would be nice.  Then she'd have a legitimate reason to go back.

She vetoed that too. “What's the point?” she said.  “Going back wouldn't change anything. Anna was there - Saint Anna.”

Anna had been in Lorenzo's goodbye pecks on both cheeks. 

Yet, it was sufficient to bring about a pause on the departure proceedings.  For an age, neither of them spoke.  They just gazed at each other saying everything they wanted to say with their eyes. 

Then, unable to bear it any longer, Genie threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.  “Thank you,” she said.

They remained entwined for an eternity.  Her only sense was Lorenzo's nearness and Domino's body leaning against her leg.

He was saying goodbye in his own way.  

Then, Lorenzo loosened his arms and brought his hands to her shoulders.  Easing her away slightly, after a slight hesitation, he covered her mouth with his.  He caressed her lips sensitively, sending the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl.  She gave herself to his kiss, his hands, his body and, for a crazy moment, she abandoned the idea of leaving.

Anna was not there this time. 

Not in that kiss. 

He broke away and reached out with one hand to gently brush her cheek.  “You will come and see Domino and, perhaps, even me, one day,” he whispered.

Genie nodded.  Her vocal chords seized.  All she could do was launch a sad smile, turn and slide into the driver's seat. 

As she drove away, she steeled herself for a glance in her rear-view mirror.  She saw Domino running after the car.  He skidded to a stop at the gate and let loose a series of his inimitable woofs. 

Lorenzo remained where she left him, immobile, watching. 

It was a scene that she knew her memory would never let go.

However, all the way through the pass, Lorenzo's presence travelled with her.  She almost felt his arms still embracing her, his body glued to hers, his cologne massaging her senses - it was all so real.

It tore at her heart.

After emerging from the pass, Genie maintained the same slow speed down towards San Rafaele.  Her left foot felt as though it was locked in position.  It would not press down on the accelerator beyond the position she had maintained since leaving the farm.

She stopped at the outskirts of the town, taking in the buildings and the people.  San Rafaelians and Tourists alike ambled or rushed towards objectives only they had in mind. 

Beyond the roofs, she could see the busy ski slopes.  The warmer weather and melting snow had not put off the sports nuts.  Lorenzo had said snow covered the slopes all year.  “However, it's no good for skiing in summer,” he said. 

Now, however, on the cusp of spring, intrepid skiers rode up the chair lifts and slid their way down at speeds commensurate with their perceived skills.  More than one cut their journey unexpectedly short, making a pancake landing in a flurry of snow, completing the remainder of the run on their backsides.

Genie tutted. “Crazy.”

The by-pass lay directly ahead of her.  This was her planned route.  It appeared empty and sterile.  Not at all inviting.

On the other hand, San Rafaele...

“Come on, Hamilton.  What reason is there for going through San Rafaele?  The bypass is much easier.”

She mentally tossed a coin.

San Rafaele won.

“One last look,” she said.  “Won't do any harm.  I'll go through it instead of around it.  Same thing.”

She allowed her Mercedes to roll down into the town. 

A new idea entertained her. “Why don't I just stop for a little while?  I can say goodbye to a few friends.  That'd be nice.”

Federico and his garage was the closest.  Genie didn't need to fully understand his mixed explosion of rapid Italian and fractured English.  Somewhere in the middle of the flow, Genie understood that, calling to say goodbye had done Federico honour.  Nevertheless, he was sad to see her leaving and insisted on checking over her car to make sure it was safe for her to drive. 

“You go and come back.” He held up one finger.  “Un'ora.”

“One hour,” Genie translated.  “That's a shame.  Now I can't go anywhere for at least one hour.” 

One hour. 

The unexpected - but legitimized - delay put a spring in her step.   “Now.  What shall I do with a whole hour?”

She couldn't control the huge grin that insisted on taking charge of her face.  It brought reciprocal smiles and greetings from everyone she encountered, several of whom were locals.  They greeted her with “Buon Giorno Signorina Genie.

Genie's responses in Italian became slicker with everyone she ran into. “I'm getting good at this,” she told herself.

“You look very happy,” Fabiana greeted when Genie made her regular call. “Have you had some good news?”  She flicked her eyebrows knowingly. 

“Yes,” Genie said, and quickly added, to cut short any misconceptions, “I have an entire hour.”

The quizzical expression on Fabiana's face and the fact that it was repeated when she explained to Violetta, transformed Genie's grin to outright laughter.  Although, they clearly didn't understand the reason, her two friends were infected by Genie's laughter and joined in.

However, the laughter fizzled out when Genie told them she had called in to say goodbye.  She would be leaving in an hour.

Extricating herself from Fabiana's Salon after that piece of news was a challenge.  The girls used every ploy to delay her departure and only released her when Genie promised to return to San Rafaele one day.

Genie's promise was well-meant and the hope was there.  But, she wondered if it would ever happen.

“The boys in blue next, I think,” she said.

At the Police Headquarters, Sergeant Antonelli leaned so far over the counter with his hand extended that Genie was sure he would topple over.  She ran to the counter and grabbed his hand to save the good Sergeant's life.  He rewarded her with a buzz on the back of her hand.

However, the policeman's demeanour took a nose dive when he learned that Genie had come to wish him farewell.

“But you come back, no?  You go for vacation?”

Genie shook her head.  That knot in her throat began to recreate itself.

“Signor Lorenzo,”  Sergeant's eyes expanded to the size of saucers.  “He will go with you?”

Genie shook her head again.

At that point, Genie got the distraction she desperately needed to quell the tear build-up.  Commissario Bernardo Testa burst explosively on the scene. 

Sergeant Antonelli instantly brought his boss up to date on the Genie issue.

Bernardo nodded sagely to indicate that he knew and caught Genie by the arm to escort her to safety.  Outside, he dropped his hand from Genie's arm. “You are not in a hurry to
leave us, I think,” he said, taking her a few paces away from the door and stopping.

“My car,” Genie blustered.  “Federico is checking my car.  Be safe.  On the trip.  He said an hour.”

“Bene.”  If he noticed her discomfort, he didn't show it.  “Un'ora.  Bene

“Yes.  Bene.” She smiled.

“Signor Lorenzo is very sad, I think.”  His expression matched the mood of his comment.  “He did not come to be with you for this...ora?”

“No.” Genie shook her head.  “He didn't know...I didn't know.  It was a last minute.  You know Federico.” She emitted a short, forced laugh.

  “Si.  Federico,” he said, nodding slowly.  “And then...if it is very important for you to leave...”

A fist grabbed Genie's stomach and squeezed.  That 'if' was back again.  “I would like...I must.  My parents...”

“Si, your parents.  They must wonder.”

“Yes,” Genie said.  “They must wonder.”  She wasn't quite sure about what Bernardo thought they wondered.  Sleeping dogs, she thought.  Let it go.  Safer.

“I'm off to get an espresso at the skating rink.”  She made a sweeping gesture with her hand.  “Enjoy the view for the...” She'd intended to say “...last time,” but her tongue refused to work its way around it.  “Why don't you join me, Bernardo?”

“Ah.  Such an offer,” he said. “I must beg you to forgive me.  I have much work.

“Lots of criminals to catch, eh?”

He laughed. “Tanti.  So many.”

She expressed her regrets and told him that she will call in again at the Questura on her way to collect her car.  That pleased Bernardo.  He encouraged her with a buzz on each cheek and backed away a few paces, nodded once, briskly, then spun on his heel and marched off. 

Genie turned to leave and, after a few paces, looked back to wave.  But, he had his back to her and was talking urgently on his cell phone.  She shrugged.  “I'll see him later.”

When she sat down at a table close to the rink, she allowed her memories of her skating dance with Lorenzo to take hold.  And their embrace... It was a beautiful moment. 

Her sigh was grand enough to blow away the snow in and around the rink cafe.