Someone to Love (23 page)

“Very good! Now we take the green marker and draw around the outline…” I said as I drew round the outline of his hand. “And then we'll do the same with Bubu's paw.”

He seemed more open to interact with me in the presence of the dog. Bubu had become our mediator.

In the following minutes, I showed the children a variety of design techniques and managed to keep their interest alive. It wasn't a foregone conclusion given that the main focus fell on Bubu.

When Giuseppe came into the room with a tray of full cups, Martina snorted. “Oh, Grandpa, you're here already?”

The man smiled. “Do you want this old grandpa to come back later?”

Martina shook her head. “Wait here with me, I just need five minutes to finish this beautiful drawing.” She put the lid on the blue marker and picked another one up. “Look, I drew our house in the country: here I am holding Bubu on a lead, and then there's you.” she pointed to an indefinite figure on the right, between doodles and coloured lines.

“It's amazing, but what am I doing? I'm on top of a mountain of leaves?”

Martina struck her forehead with her hand. “No, Grandpa! You're driving a tractor. I'm not stupid. You've already hurt your back, what would you be doing on a mountain of leaves?”

“You're right, now I'm too old for certain things.”

“Before saying ‘goodbye' I have something to give you.” I picked up my backpack and pulled out three green packets with a bits of ribbon wrapped round them and some writing in pen in corner. “These are for you,” I said as I distributed a pack to each child.

“Can we open them now? Please…” Martina was as excited as if it was Christmas Day.

“Of course, they're yours,” I said softly.

Giulio's mother helped her son open his, but Lukas and Martina tore at the paper eagerly, unable to hold back their enthusiasm.

“It's beautiful!” exclaimed Martina, as she proudly showed off a white frame containing a photograph taken a few days earlier.

Fiamma had helped me capture some moments of pet therapy, without the children noticing. I wanted to have some pictures to hang in the waiting room of my clinic and others to show to the Director. I then decided to make additional copies to give to the children.

Lukas ran to hug me. I wanted to hug him back, but he left with the same speed with which he arrived. At that moment Gemma walked through the door. “Hello, Mia!” she exclaimed. “Did you have fun today?”

“Mummy, Mummy!” cried Lukas happily. “Look what she gave us.”

“Wow, it's beautiful! We will put it in your room, what do you say?”

Gemma touched my arm and I jumped. “I'm sorry, but I have no time today and I still have to arrange his clean clothes in the locker. See you on Tuesday.”

I accompanied everyone to the door. “See you on Tuesday,” I watched them leave and noticed a female figure running away, as if she didn't want to be seen. Maybe I was wrong and my mind was playing tricks on me. I closed the door and the room was wrapped in silence.

*

That evening I returned home overwhelmed with shopping bags and numb arms.

As soon as I entered, Bubu ran up to me and jumped up joyfully on seeing me again. I hugged him and improvised a kind of comical dance with him. Squirming, he followed my movements, then suddenly broke away and ran to sniff one of the plastic bags I had left on the floor. He could smell the roast chicken that I had bought for dinner.

I arranged the shopping in the fridge and went upstairs. I slipped into the bathroom, took my makeup off and went back downstairs to prepare dinner. Then my phone rang. I rummaged in my bag for it and rubbed my forehead before answering.

“Hello?” I said, lowering my voice.

“It was about time you answered,” complained Lucy. “It's the third time I have tried to call you at home. You're never there…”

“I was at work. You know, that place where normal people go during the day.” I said.

“I'm sorry, dear sister, I have no reason to get a job when I have a husband who keeps me.”

I tried not to react to her condescending tone, “Did you call for something in particular?”

“Yes, to remind you of dinner on Friday. Mum doesn't have time to call and asked me to do it,” said Lucy. “Don't worry, Alberto won't be there. We already know everything. But I really don't know what goes through your mind, he's such an interesting man.”

I snorted and threw my dead weight onto the couch. I took both shoes off and threw them behind it. “I see that the ‘interesting man' didn't waste any time in telling you some kind of bullshit. I will be there, as usual, you can re-assure Mum.”

“You mustn't always be so hard, it's no wonder you can't find a man,” added Lucy, ironically.

“And who tells you I haven't found one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I met a man ten times more fascinating than Alberto. Sooner or later I'll bring him to one of our family dinners.”

“Magnificent. Why not Friday? That is if you manage to keep him that long.”

My sister was so sweet! Like when you go for a trip out of town and all the mosquitoes attack you.

“I can't, I have to ask.”

“I'd like to meet him. Warn me if I need to tell Mum to add another place,” she said.

“Will do. Talk to you soon.”

“What's the matter?” asked Fiamma worriedly, entering the office. “Aren't you happy with how the pet therapy is going?”

“Are you kidding? I couldn't sleep for happiness,” I said, turning round. “But my mind is full of thoughts and worries.”

Fiamma dragged the empty chair next to mine and sat down comfortably. “Meaning?”

“Today is Friday,” I sighed.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me confused. “So?” My eyes widened, angrily. “What kind of friend are you? Today is
the
Friday!” I snapped, widening my eyes even more.

“Oh, I see…” she said in a whisper, before bursting out laughing. She put her hand on her stomach and took the other to her mouth, bending over with laughter.

“What the hell!” I snapped, annoyed. “It's not funny, you know what those dinners are like.”

Instead of calming down, my friend continued to make fun of me. “I swear, you make me die of laughter. You have such a funny expressions! I came to your parents' house just the once and that was enough,” she said, amused.

“Exactly, so what am I supposed to say?” I muttered to myself.

“Come on, stop it, now you're used to it. I can't understand why you're so… thoughtful.”

“I made the mistake of telling my sister that I'm seeing someone, which, as you know, is not true, and she immediately took the ball and threw it back. You understand that I can't invite him, right?”

“If he was with you, maybe you'd have a pleasant evening.”

I let a grunt out. “Impossible,” I said, convinced that this was the case. “My mother would make it as terrible as usual. She would hammer him with questions and I have absolutely no stomach for it,” I added, with a grimace.

“I see… have you spoken to Diego about it?”

“Don't be silly, he doesn't know anything. At least, not yet.”

“Who doesn't know anything?” asked Antonio, flinging the door open and rubbing his eyes. I ignored him. “Come on, girls! Who are you talking about?” he insisted, and planted a chaste kiss on Fiamma's cheek.

“All right, nosey,” I said,“We were talking about dinner at my parents' house and the fact that Diego doesn't know anything about it.”

Antonio looked at me for a few moments to grasp the concept. “I think you should tell him. If you wish to be together you have to share everything, not just the good things,” he remarked with conviction.

“Oh, stop it! From which Facebook page did you steal that phrase?”

He shrugged. “I don't like some of the people you hang out with,” Fiamma chided softly. “Our boss is a really nasty person.”

“If I were you, I wouldn't say certain things. I might decide to sack you,” I said, imitating the gesture of tearing paper. “How many more years of mortgage do you still have to pay? About twenty?”

Antonio put his hand on his heart and pretended to fall. “You'll break it like this!” he exclaimed, suffering.

I glared at Fiamma. “Will you explain to him that if he continues like this I really will fire him? Anyway, guys, I really don't know what to do,” I said, looking down. “Do you think it's better to tell him?”

“Sure! Show off to sweet Candy Candy that beautiful piece of man you found.”

I nearly choked. Fiamma was always giving people nicknames, and my mother had been awarded the name of Candy Candy because of the blonde curls she sported so proudly. It wasn't the curls themselves that were the problem, but the bleached blonde hair which was at odds with her age and skin complexion.

We all laughed loudly.

“I'll never forget that time the hairdresser had put the curlers so close together,” Fiamma reminded me, guffawing. “She looked like my grandmother's poodle when she used the hair dryer on him after bathing him.”

“It's not true. I don't believe it!” I quacked, doubled with stomach cramps.

“I swear! Help, I need oxygen.”

Antonio was the first to regain some composure. He checked his watch. “I'm going back, you two, stop chatting please and get back to work.” I let myself fall back against the backrest. “Oh, Fiamma. What should I do?” I asked with a sigh.

“Whatever your heart suggests. Try to listen to it more often…” she whispered in my ear. Then she got up and followed Antonio out of the office.

It was Fiamma's classic response. Every time I heard it, I was more confused than before, yet she always managed to cheer me up.

*

The hours at work passed without anything unexpected happening. Accompanying Mr Melia and his old beagle to the door, I realized that it was almost dark outside. I turned round to look at the clock on the wall. I was late and there was only an hour to spare before dinner.

Fiamma noticed my agitation. “Who's going to listen to your mother now?” she said, teasing me. “Run, princess, or the wicked witch will punish you.”

A memory surfaced in my mind. I was seventeen and Davide had invited me to the prom, organized in the gym of our school. I had spent a fantastic evening in the arms of the most popular boy in school, and I had forgotten about time. When I returned home my mother was still awake, waiting for me, and didn't intend to listen to any excuse for my lateness.

Among the many possible punishments, she had chosen the most painful one. I had to look after my sister for a month, take her to school, to her extracurricular activities and even help her with her homework. Nothing serious, had she been a girl like any other. Lucy, however, was clingy, had a shrill voice and followed me everywhere, even to the bathroom. I no longer had a life since my mother had sent our domestic worker on advance leave. It was hell.

“Pray for me,” I sighed, and ran away.

*

When I reached the front door, I heard paws on the floor, followed by an insistent familiar barking. I slipped the key into the lock and turned it. Before I could do anything Bubu had rushed towards me full of enthusiasm. After all, he hadn't seen me since late morning.

“Hello, Bubu!” I greeted him, taking my shoes off. “Have you been a good boy today?”

He jumped forward, getting up on his hind legs. I grabbed him, lowering myself down to receive one of his affectionate kisses.

“Of course you've been a good boy!” I exclaimed, scratching his ears. “You're a big boy, now,” I said, reaching the stairs.

Bubu lunged into the living room at full speed and returned, running into my legs.

“You brought me Cutey?” I asked, picking up the funny stuffed toy from the step.

Cutey was the name I used to call every stuffed toy that passed between Bubu's sharp teeth. He liked to pick their eyes out and then, more gradually, all the padding. Sometimes, he would tear off the head first and then rest the remains of that weird toy on your knees.

Bubu sat watching me, waiting.

“Go get it!”

I encouraged him, throwing the doll. As I tried to get ready to go out as fast as I could.

I heard Bubu bark excitedly and run like crazy from room to room.

I took a pair of white cotton trousers and a tight fitting shirt from the closet. I wore a necklace with a silver pendant and trudged to the bathroom to put some makeup on. I stood before the mirror and stared at myself. Diego hadn't showed up, he was probably busy with some emergency, and I didn't want to be the one to contact him first. Lost in thought, I jumped when I heard the doorbell ring. I prayed it wasn't
him
.

I rushed downstairs and when I peered through the peephole, it was.

“Diego…” I said, once the door was wide open, but the words died in my throat. “Who's your little friend?” I asked, blinking in surprise.

Diego was holding a mongrel puppy with a shaggy coat in his arms. It was trying to break free and reach Bubu, who meanwhile had appeared with his nose between my legs.

“Today was a very hectic day at work, so I didn't have time to call you. Someone left her in front of the police station and I thought I'd take her.” He spoke without taking his eyes off me, intrigued by my clothing. “Kitten, were you making yourself beautiful for me?” he asked, with a wink.

I tried to catch my breath and maintain control. It was time for the truth.

“Please, come in.”

Diego didn't wait to be told twice.

“Do I need to worry?”

“I don't know how you managed to convince me,” I said, perhaps with too much enthusiasm.

A side street wound between flowering trees and century old villas. Every cloud had been driven away by the slight breeze and the moon lit up the profile of plants and houses.