Page 10 of Nantucket Reflections
When her mother and father dropped them off at the airport on January 15th, Alessandra cut into the bathroom to fix her lipstick and look at herself in the mirror. She had a bit more color than in autumn, and there was spiky hair growing out of her skull. Some of it, this time, was gray, which was a disappointment. But she reminded herself that aging was a privilege, especially when she’d spent so much of the past two and a half years sick.
The plane from Naples to Paris took about an hour. It landed them in another dimension, where Parisian women dressed in immaculate outfits and walked tiny fuzzy dogs and ate croissants and did little else. Parisian men smoked tiny cigarettes and squinted at one another from behind ornate and expensive glasses. The city was all cream and traffic and baguettes. Federico had booked them a hotel in Oberkampf, near the canal, and they took a nap on bleach-clean sheets and woke up to walk around and eat. Alessandra reminded herself to appreciate every detail of this remarkable day. She reminded herself to open her heart.After all, you could be dead right now, she thought.
They walked the river and shivered and eventually ducked into a brasserie for something warm to eat. The maître d’ told them that there weren’t seats inside, but they could sit outside under a heat lamp if they wanted to. They said okay and went for it, huddling under blankets as the heater charged up. It was in the lower fifties Fahrenheit, which they decided wasn’t too bad if they kept each other warm. The red wine flowed, as did the conversation. They were talking about London, about what they’d wanted their lives to be like. But they were only thirty-five now. Wasn’t it strange that everything had gotten off course?
“Except for our family,” Alessandra corrected them both. “Our family is perfect.”
Federico agreed that it was. “I would never speak ill of any of them. Especially Anna.”
“Especially Anna,” she agreed.
There was a lull in the conversation. Alessandra drank her wine and let her eyes trickle over the scene in front of them. It was then she saw the wall: big and empty and inviting. Her eyes widened. Already she knew what she wanted to do, what she felt she had to do. The tips of her fingers began to tingle.
“Federico,” she said, speaking as softly as she could. She touched his face and gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been with me through the worst times of my life.”
Federico sniffed and looked as though he wanted to stop himself from crying. “They were the worst times of my life, too.”
Alessandra swallowed. “I don’t know how to say thank you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Alessandra hesitated. If she told him about being CAT, there was no rule book for what would follow. It was possible that he’d forbid her from doing it again. Maybe he’d say it was too dangerous or remind her that they had so much to live for now that she was well again. But this was Federico she was talking to! Her life partner! Her best friend!
And wasn’t he one of the best artists she knew? Or, he had been, until they’d given themselves over to making money and staying alive.
“I wondered if you wanted to help me with something tonight,” she said, almost swallowing her words.
Federico didn’t get it at first. “I’ll help you with anything. You know that.”
“Don’t promise it until you understand what I’m asking,” she said.
Federico leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes reflected the heat lamp above them.
“We’d have to stay up really late,” she went on. “And I’d have to gather supplies.”
Federico’s lips twitched. “What kind of supplies?”
Alessandra listed the various items she needed and said that it was better to buy them all from different locations rather than from one so as not to raise suspicion. As the realization clicked, Federico closed his eyes and remained quiet. Alessandra counted to ten, praying he wouldn’t fly off the handle. And then he said, “Why did I already think it was you?”
Alessandra laughed and squeezed his hand under the table. “Because you know me.”
“Because I know you,” Federico said, opening his eyes again. “But I never imagined you’d go this far.”
“Why not?” Alessandra laughed.
“Because I thought we were too old to be stupid.”
“We’re never too old to be stupid,” Alessandra said. “In fact, now that I’ve lived through chemotherapy three separate times, I feel I’ve earned the right to be extra stupid.”
“Is that how it works?” Federico’s eyes were filled with laughter.
“I want to do this,” she said. “And I want it to be bigger this time. Better. I have sketches in my notebook. But I need your help to make it so large. Will you do it?”
Federico rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s a chance your mom and dad will catch on. Maybe others too. I mean, the timeline is strange.”
“People can believe whatever they want to believe,” Alessandra stated.
Federico sighed and let his chin drop to his chest. After a very long time, he said, “So much for getting a good night’s sleep on vacation, huh?”
