Coco Chanel Saved My Life (18 page)

As soon as I got home, I made a hot chamomile tea and had a few cookies. Then I wrote a long e-mail to Cristian, telling him about my day.

Yes, I was alone again, but I didn't feel lonely.

I sensed that my life could only improve, without too much of an effort. I was trusting in the future again.

Back at the office, work was becoming more and more challenging. The brides, with their wedding day approaching, became hysterical and obsessively called the agency to be sure everything was perfect. I fought with flower nurseries and catering companies to get exactly what I had ordered. I had to call suppliers all the time to be sure they were on time with their deliveries.

I was spinning like crazy around the city, amidst showrooms, jewelry shops, villas and churches. I consumed a lot of energy and shoe leather. I was exhausted, but I was really becoming an expert wedding planner. At the agency they were assigning me more important tasks every day.

Valentina kept making my life difficult, but she was too busy increasing the company's sales to set me up with any more of her stupid blind dates. I was avoiding that at least. Now her only objective was Paris, and mercifully she didn't give a damn about my sex life!

I needed a break. I wanted to get away for a little while from this world of lace, confetti, flowers and cakes. I decided to go to Venice for the weekend. I wanted to see some old friends, walk on the silent
calli
of the Ghetto, eat fresh fish and drink spritz in front of the lagoon. I wanted to get back home.

I called my mother to let her know I was going to spend the weekend with her. On Friday evening, with my roll-on bag and my travelling uniform (sheath dress, coat, leather flats, and hand bag – all black), I got on the train. My final destination: peace.

As soon as I arrived in Venice, I was welcomed by a dense fog which had enveloped the city. The water in the canals was still and dark. The silence appeased my soul.

From Santa Lucia station I caught the ferry to
sestiere
Castello, where my mother lived. I took a seat at the rear of the boat, on the open deck, in spite of the cold. I looked at the Canal Grande's illuminated palaces, seduced by their beauty.

I got off at the Rialto stop, under the famous bridge, and took one of the deserted little streets towards the big square where I grew up, Campo Santi Giovanni and Paolo.

When I arrived at my mother's house, I paused for a little while to look around the square. I felt protected.

I rang the bell. I hadn't seen my mother for months and had lots of things to tell her. As soon as she saw me, she hugged me with such enthusiasm that I was literally overwhelmed. The apartment, as usual, was messy, like a battle field. We were similar in that way, as were all the women of my family!

My mother was sixty. She loved to dress in a garish way; she never went out without an animal print sweater and her big glittery earrings. In short, we were women with very different styles. But I adored her. She had separated from my father while she was still very young, and since then she had lived by herself. Over the years she'd had relationships with other men, yet she always decided to keep her independence. She used to say that after the joy of a failed marriage, nothing worked better than long distance relationships.

“Everyone in their own home!” She always repeated, and she seemed to never regret her choices.

After freeing me from her hug, she stared at me, “You're all skin and bone! Are you working too hard and forgetting to eat?” she said, bringing my suitcase towards the bedroom that had been mine for many years.

“Yes mom, I eat. I just lost a little weight and feel in great shape.”

“Are you sure you are not on one of your crazy diets?”

“No! I had enough of diets… I simply eat well and my body is showing it. For once, trust me!”

“Ok, but I cooked something special for you tonight and I don't want any complaints. You must eat everything!”

My mother had to put up with my fixation about food and diets for many years, and she knew how obnoxious I could be when I began to obsess about being overweight!

I took a quick shower. I wore my old sweatpants with a long sleeve t-shirt, and joined her in the kitchen. On the table was a feast!
Bigoli
(a delicious Venetian pasta) with anchovies, creamed salt cod and grilled red radicchio that smelled delicious.

I happily ate everything. Most of the time, my dinners in Milan were just big salads or tea and cookies. Maybe I really needed to take a cooking class!

“Tell me how things are going in Milan… I miss you. How's your new job?”

“It's great! I've finally settled in, and now I'm able to organize a whole wedding without asking for any help from my colleagues.”

“I am proud of you. But I didn't have any doubt, I knew you would make it. What about your love life?”

“Can we skip this question and move to the next?” I answered, laughing.

“Don't tell me you're still in love with that idiot who left you for a woman looking like a broomstick?”

“No, thank god, I'm over it! I have been seeing someone for the last two weeks, but nothing serious.”

I didn't keep secrets from her. I am an only child and we've always been close. My mother hadn't ever told me much about my father and her relationship with him, yet she had never hidden her feelings of animosity towards the whole male gender. However, I think she eventually had a good life. She has always been a fascinating woman, and has had numerous affairs.

“Do you have some handsome colleagues?” she was too curious to let it go.

I blushed, thinking of Etienne, but immediately I remembered Juliette's letter to him, and the word ‘FIANCEE' appeared before me in capital letters.

“Hmm… yes, some, but I'm still in a
research phase
.”

“Don't rush. Have fun! Do it now, while you can. The thirties are the best years for a woman. You're young, pretty and smart; you won't have any difficulty finding a man who will love and respect you. And – remember – if this man doesn't eventually appear, you'll be able to sleep diagonally in your big bed for the rest of your life! It's a luxury that couples can't have…”

I smiled. She was always able to find some positive aspect about things.

*

After dinner I went to take a walk. Venice had high tide the day before and there were parts of the city still submerged. I always liked the high water. In spite of the obvious difficulties and the necessity of wearing horrible rubber boots, I love seeing a city under water for several hours, because it makes me realize how powerful nature is, and how helpless and insignificant we human beings are.

That evening I was able to reach San Marco Square without boots. There was no one around and the mist was gracefully wrapping itself around the cathedral, the Procuratie and the Ducale Palace. I walked over the bank, near the dock of gondolas. The sea was still and grey. I inhaled the air saturated with salt deeply. It was the smell of home.

I walked all the way to the Ponte dei Sospiri, only coming across some street flower sellers and a few tourist couples in love. I stopped to look at San Giorgio Island from a distance. At that moment I thought how much I would have loved to be with Cristian. I would show him my city and we could get lost among the mysterious
calli
of the lagoon.

I pushed this melancholic thought away and, walking back home, I stopped at a pub where they had live music. I met some old friends there and spent a few hours chatting and drinking wine with them. I felt cheerful again.

It had been a long time since I had slept in my bedroom, and being in my old small bed made me feel like a teenager again, full of hopes and dreams.

*

The next morning a wonderful smell of coffee woke me up. Singing softly, my mother was making breakfast. She sounded happy.

“Good morning!” I said, stepping into the kitchen.

“Did you sleep well, sweetie?” she asked me, and her eyes lit up.

“Like a queen! I can't wait to have a cup of the best coffee in town…”

I had learned how to make a good espresso from my mother. She even drank more coffee than I did. When the doctor told her she should stop because of high blood pressure, she answered that coffee was the secret of her happiness and beauty. If something had to kill her, she preferred to be killed by her magical elixir.

“I went to buy pastries at your favourite bakery. They are still warm…”

I bit into one, and the fresh pastry melted in my mouth. Sometimes it's really fantastic to be spoiled by your mom!

“What's your plan for today?” she asked, pouring me a second cup of coffee.

“I thought of going to the Giudecca. I need to see my personal future teller…” I smiled.

She nodded and said, “say hello to Axi.”

*

My friend Axi lived in a beautiful palace that she had inherited from her family with a view of the canal. She grew roses in the old courtyard and in the spring their scent filled all the neighbourhood. She was in her forties, with a red mane and a beautiful smile.

She was a painter and had transformed the first floor of the house into her studio. People said she had many lovers among artists and actors, who had been guests at the prestigious Hotel Cipriani – just a few steps from her house – but nobody could say with certainty.

Axi had a passion for astrology and fortune telling. She made personalized horoscopes and read tarot cards for friends who loved to stop by her house. She had incredible intuition and was able to understand people at first sight. Many in the city called her the
witch
and she was proud of it. She lived alone in her charming house with her huge Persian cat that she named Cagliostro.

I called on her door intercom, but as always she looked outside the window to see who it was. She used to say she hated technology and anything modern.

“Coco! What a surprise! I didn't know you were in town… Come on in!” She shouted.

I went through the garden and up to the first floor. She gave me an affectionate hug and I felt at home. She wore a long blue caftan stained with paint. She had on her necklace with good-luck crystals and had a ring for each finger.

“Why are you in town?” she asked me. There was a light of surprise in her eyes.

I looked around her huge studio. We were surrounded by paintings of women and starry skies.

“I was homesick.”

“Venice is a land of great explorers, but everyone needs to return sooner or later.”

I sat down on the big velvet sofa, where she used to have her models pose, and she ran to put the tea kettle on the burner.

“How are you?” She sat down near me. “I often think of you.”

We had been very close. She used to make my horoscope at the beginning of every year.

Honestly, I didn't really believe in this kind of thing, but at the same time I was morbidly attracted to it. I wasn't sure the position of planets and stars could influence my life, yet I found it comforting to listen to someone tell me about my destiny.

“My life recently has been total chaos: the move to Milan, a new job, love disappointments, loneliness, men who come and go…”

“Coco, it is better to have a complicated life than a boring existence. Always remember this.”

“It's true. But in this moment I simply wish that someone could give me some peace and serenity, without asking for anything in return. What's happened to my luck?”

“Good luck comes only when you're in a position to accept it. You must have the right attitude to be surrounded by positive energies.”

Axi strongly believed in positive energy, karma and destiny. She spoke so passionately about these things that she was always able to captivate you.

“How about a tarot card reading now?”

“Axi, I've come for that too…” I said, with my voice full of hope.

“Good. It never hurts to ask for advice from the tarot cards. If you don't like what they say, you can always decide you don't believe it.” She laughed.

“Don't tease me! Actually, I'm in desperate need to believe in
something
. In love most of all.”

“Every woman who sits here on this sofa wants to hear that love will come soon. We are all the same.”

“Indeed. All incurable romantics…”

“But we are also incurably stupid. We give up important and beautiful things in our lives in the name of love, and often it isn't worth it.”

I nodded, smiling. Sometimes she was a very wise woman.

“Let's start,” she said, holding my hands for a moment. Then she stood up and went to fetch a deck of old tarot cards she kept on a big bookshelf. She cleared the top of a small, low table and began to mix the cards. Then she asked me to lift part of the deck, and she started to turn the cards over on the table.

“Your recent months haven't been very good…”

“Yes… in fact, I would say we can eliminate most of them.”

“But your life is going to change again soon…”

Again? Other changes? All this began to become tiresome… to get straight to the point, I asked her, “do you see any man on the horizon?”

“I see a charismatic and fascinating man. Someone you already know.”

I immediately thought of Cristian. Maybe destiny will bring him back to me.

“He's a foreigner that you've recently met.”

“Will he be back?” I was already dreaming.

“He will be part of your future and will be very important for you. You only have to let him come closer to your soul.”

It was what I wanted to hear. I felt relieved. I didn't care if the tarots were telling the truth, I needed to have more trust in my future.

“Good news, I think…”

“Very good news! Your cards say that next year will be the year of love for you. Wasn't that what you wanted?” she asked, mocking me a little.