Someone to Love (6 page)

“Yes, but I don't understand what—” whispered my mother, before being interrupted by a severe glance from my father. “Will it bring her more money?”

He sighed: it was a losing battle. On the other hand, sensitivity wasn't one of her virtues.

“Frankly, I don't understand why you waste your time like this. There are many other ways to get publicity and make money as well,” she said.

“Mum, I don't do it for the money and you should know better than me what motivates me.”

“But the point is that I just don't understand. Were we too generous with you when you were little, is that it?” she asked, with a pained expression.

“But of course not, that's ridiculous! I started this career and I committed to becoming what I am today. I chose this job and I'm happy, but I see you still haven't accepted it.” I silently chided myself for having started the discussion.

My mother had that look that I knew all too well: her eyes were fixed on me and her expression distressed. I was seized by vivid memories of my teenage years in that house, between furious arguments and heavy silences. Everything I was hoping to leave behind, but… If only my grandparents were still here. They would have mediated and calmed the waters.

She cleared her throat. “You made your choices and no one has ever hindered you. I'm only saying that your job isn't like being on holiday, and that you should also watch your income.” The effort for self-control hardened every word.

“All right, you win tonight. I don't think it's necessary to go on with the usual arguments,” I said in a more conciliatory tone, taking a deep breath.

The war between us never ended. Neither of us would surrender.

My father rubbed his chin. “Well,” he resumed, after a long silence “Who wants to hear the story of when I was stuck in the elevator for a whole afternoon?”

I looked at the time and thought that, maybe, I would be able to get to the end of the dinner safe and sound. My mother composed herself, moving a lock of hair behind her ear, and continued to be irritating. “And you, Alberto? Excuse my curiosity, but I get the feeling that you've never been married. Is that so?” she asked, placing her fork on the table.

I stared at her in disbelief and blood rushed to my face. Alberto didn't seem troubled by the personal question and I wondered if it was the result of calmness derived from his job or the construction of a barrier to hide something. “Yes, ma'am, it seems strange but I'm an old-fashioned man. I'm still looking for my other half.”

A grin surfaced on my mother's lips. “Unfortunately, if she doesn't hurry, my daughter won't find anyone. She has never been able to find a husband, but I'm sure you have many things in common.”

I couldn't believe my ears. My mother, the woman who had given birth to me, was talking about me like that? “Sorry, what did you say?” I said, blinking repeatedly.

I was about to get up, when I felt Alberto's hand stop my leg under the table. I glanced in his direction.

“Have you ever thought that your daughter may not be to blame?” asked Alberto.

A sudden silence fell around the room. I wanted to jump up and skip victoriously around the evil witch. Beatrice wrinkled her nose in a contemptuous grimace and exclaimed: “Let's not worry about these things! Here comes the dessert”. Once again, she carried on as if nothing had happened.

At nearly thirty years old, I had lost all hope of ever hearing one nice word said about me. I was the daughter that had never been good enough for her.

I finished the sweet, delicious as usual, and walked away from the table with Alberto.

“I'm going,” I said.

“So soon? Aren't you stopping for coffee?” asked my father.

I looked at him ruefully, hoping he wouldn't ask.

“Thanks, Dad, but I'm very tired. I'll speak to you during the week,” I cut him off sharply, and then kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks for the hospitality. I'll accompany your daughter to her car,” said Alberto, brushing my side to invite me to come out.

“Alberto, it really was a pleasure. Come back and visit us whenever you want,” my mother flirted with a broad smile.

I retrieved my bag and turned around one last time. Another evening spent in the total absence of affection. I really missed my grandparents. Everything was different with them. They were my mother's parents and their death had amplified the gap in our family. I couldn't swear to it, but I perceived a trace of dejection in my mother's soul.

Maybe she had realized too late the terrible emptiness they had left.

Alberto opened the door and held it open for me to leave.

From the window, I saw my mother's silhouette watching me from behind the curtains. Maybe she thought she was invisible. Unfortunately, she couldn't count that amongst her powers.

“I think it's better to get away from here. Shall we take a walk?” I asked Alberto.

He looked at the watch on his wrist and I sensed some hesitation. “Why not?”

We took the smaller road that followed the avenue, it had old and wrinkled tree trunks that stretched skywards. The wind made the leaves dance, lifting them from the ground. Surrounded by the light of a fine moon, I heard the sound of our steps.

“Your mother's certainly quite a character,” he said, smiling.

“That was nothing. I could spend hours telling you about thousands of other scenes. I've seen worse. Take it or leave it, that's my mother,” I said bitterly. I could have told him many things about myself and my childhood, but I preferred not to.

“I appreciate that you put the record straight, despite my presence. I'm sorry, you didn't deserve it. From what little I've seen, you're a very smart woman. Not everyone has your determination.”

I shrugged. “You're very kind, but not everyone has the same opinion.”

“I don't think so,” he went on, looking into my eyes. “That day in the hospital I saw a confident woman. You want to help others and I'm sure that those children will worship you. You'll bring a bit of happiness into their lives and it will be successful.”

“Thanks for the nice words, I forgot how pleasant it is to receive compliments.”

“I just think it's fair to recognize certain merits. As you know, I work in the hospital and I know the three children that the Director has chosen to try the pet therapy with very well. They are really special, you'll see for yourself.”

“I have no doubt. All I want to do is to make myself useful, I don't know why I feel this urge.”

Alberto's phone rang and he took it out of his jacket pocket, risking dropping it twice. His expression changed instantly and his brow furrowed. Then he turned it off and put it back in his pocket. It reminded me of something in the past but I pushed that thought from my head. It was really inappropriate.

“No problem. You could answer…” I said.

“It wasn't important,” he replied seriously. He seemed sincere.

I talked to him a bit about everything, my studies, my work and my passion for books. What I discovered about Alberto pleased me. He returned with anecdotes about his profession, about his travels around the world and the yoga classes he'd been attending for years now. Then we moved onto a completely different field.

“If you're free, one of these days we could go out. We could go to the centre and you could bring your colleague, because my friend seemed to really enjoy her company.”

I blushed slightly and accepted. “Sure why not? I'd love to,” I said smugly.

“Perfect,” he said. “I only ask you this as a favour. Given the situation in the hospital—” he caught his breath “it would be good if this remained between us.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I said, a little surprised, while mixed emotions stirred inside me: the Mia of the past would not have attributed any weight to his request whereas the Mia of today wanted to know more. “Yes, the coincidence of you and I in the same department, it might look as if I had been recommended…” I murmured, unconvinced, but decided not to pursue the conversation.

“I knew you'd understand.”

For a moment there was a strange silence.

“I don't know why, but before you mentioned the centre, I imagined you were more the type that would go to a luxury restaurant in the hills rather than a night out in the city,” I said, to lighten the conversation.

“Don't I look like the night life type?”

“No offence, but not really. You're always dressed flawlessly and appear so professional even outside work.”

He smiled. “Is that bad?”

I shook my head. “No, it's that I'm not so perfect.” I slid my fingers down my dress. “This is not me, it's all a pantomime and I can't wait for Cinderella to go back into the pumpkin.”

Alberto held back a laugh and turned serious. “Does Cinderella still have some time to spare?”

“Enough, before the spell wears off…”

Chatting, I totally lost track of time and when I stood beside my car, Alberto blocked the door to stop me from getting in.

I looked at him in amazement. The light of the street lamp lit up his face and the play of light and shadows redesigned his features. It softened them. His half smile that I found so fascinating re-appeared.

“I really enjoyed your company tonight.” He pulled a rebellious strand of hair that had escaped from my chignon away from my face. He held me by the arm and leaned towards me. For my part there was no hesitation, even when he touched my lips.

I returned the kiss and stepped back, looking him in the eye. “I'll see you soon, then,” I whispered in his ear and opened the door to get in.

I drove away observing Alberto in the rear-view mirror, while a smile appeared on my face. It had been three months since my last date with a man and I wasn't used to that kind of contact.

It felt good not knowing what fate had in store for me.

Perhaps, the man of my dreams was closer than I thought.

I returned home happy. Bubu was waiting for me to come back, going in and out of every room. I undid my hair, I took off my black pumps and put on a pair of white sneakers to take him for a walk before going to sleep. I could have changed out of my dress but didn't bother.

I had just left the house when the roar of a motorcycle made me wince.

“Mia, what are you doing out all alone at this time of night?” said a male voice.

My eyes widened: it was Diego. I shrugged. “I'm walking the dog, is that a crime?” I asked, annoyed. He raised an eyebrow and looked at my clothing. “What the hell…” he exclaimed in surprise.

I had totally forgotten that I had left the house wearing the most unusual mixture of clothes, it was almost ridiculous. Another gaffe to add to the archive.

“It's a new style, you know?” I informed him, doing a pirouette.

Bubu approached Diego and licked his hand, then put his front paws on his legs to jump up.

“No, Bubu. Get down now!” I called him back. “You'll make him dirty.”

Diego shrugged. “I do own a thing called a washing machine.”

Bubu began to squirm, he rolled in the grass on his back and Diego stroked him.

“What an independent man,” I replied tartly. “Rather, what are you doing out at this time?” I asked curiously. “Have they promoted you to my personal stalker?” I added with a wink.

What was happening to me? Was I flirting with him or was I letting him flirt with me?

“Reconnaissance round the area and then I'm off to the centre of Turin,” he explained. “You know, it's part of my job, or have you forgotten?” he replied defiantly.

I bit my lip. He wanted to provoke me. I thought of a retort, but the trill of Diego's phone anticipated me.

“Yes, I see. I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“I have to go…” I said, pretending to look at the watch on my wrist. He nodded, and I walked away briskly.

*

Half an hour later I went home and instinctively went to retrieve the keys from my pocket, but my dress had no pockets. And no pockets, meant no keys. It took me a moment to realize I had nothing with me. What a shitty idea. Going out without a jacket or a bag.

“Oh, no! no! no…!” I screamed in a rising crescendo, “I'm such an idiot, I can't believe it. I locked myself out—” I left the sentence hanging, looking down at Bubu.

He tilted his head slightly, he seemed confused, and lay down. I wanted to stamp my feet like a three year old. The situation was really ridiculous. Without meaning to, I found myself running back and forth, swearing.

Ok, don't panic. I looked around trying to find a solution. My parents had a copy of my keys, but I didn't want to call them and admit that I needed them. A bad idea to have even thought about dialling their number. On second thoughts, I wasn't thinking clearly, even my phone was inside the house so I had no way of contacting them anyway.

I sat on the doorstep, wondering what to do.

I could climb up the back of the house and get in through the window I always left slightly ajar, but it required quite a feat of athleticism. I wasn't really the kind of girl that climbed through windows, especially wearing such a tight dress.

I tied Bubu's leash to the porch, and called upon all the saints I knew to help me reach the window by climbing on the wood pile.

The situation was so absurd that I couldn't have even believed it possible. My fitted sheath dress was most unsuitable for this kind of activity. I pulled it up in the hope that it wouldn't get in the way and get ruined.

I turned the waste bin upside down and scrambled onto it, then tried to climb, but the wood pile was too unstable. I only needed to get up a few more metres to place my feet on a small concrete frame from which I could slip through the window, but each time I slipped back down. I was paying the price for all the physical education classes I'd skipped with the excuse of having a period, obviously lasting ten days.