Page 4 of Two Chances With You

Here I am, back again. I’m home. I walk toward the exit. The glass doors slide open, and I emerge onto the sidewalk. Right at the taxi stand. But at that exact moment, I have a strange sensation. I feel as if someone’s watching me. I whip around. Nothing. No one. There’s nothing worse than thinking you’re going to see something…and nothing’s there.

Chapter 2

Stefano!” Right in front of me, in the middle of the road, is my brother.

I smile. “Ciao, Pa.” I’m happy to see him. I’m almost touched, but I manage to keep it from showing too much.

“Well, how are you? You have no idea how often I’ve thought about you.”

He hugs me tight. He gives me a squeeze. For a fleeting second, I remember the last Christmas we spent together. Before I left.

“Well, here you are…Did you have fun down there in America, huh?”

He takes one of my suitcases out of my hand. Naturally, the lighter one.

“Yes, I had a great time in America. But why do you refer to it as ‘down there’?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a manner of speech.”

My brother, using manners of speech. No doubt about it, things have changed. He looks at me happily. He’s relaxed. He actually does love me. But we don’t look a bit alike.

I take a closer look at him. Dressed to the nines, a new shirt, perfectly pressed, a pair of lightweight trousers, brownish in color with cuffs, a checked blazer, and finally…

“Hey, Paolo, what happened? Did you misplace your necktie?”

“No, I just don’t wear a tie in the summer. Why, does it look bad?”

He doesn’t even wait for an answer. “Here we are, this is the car. Look at what I got for myself…” He waves his hand, showing off what constitutes, to his mind, a magnificent new vehicle. “Audi A4, the latest model. You like it?”

How could I say no in the face of such unbridled enthusiasm? “Very nice, not bad.”

He pushes the button on the remote in his hand. The alarm stops after a couple of beeps, and the double blinkers disappear. Paolo opens the trunk. “Come on, put your suitcases in here.”

I toss in the two duffel bags, next to the small one that he’s already neatly placed. “Hey, take it easy,” my brother warns.

His warning immediately sparks an idea. “Hey, can I try driving it?”

He looks at me. His expression changes. His heart is clearly torn. But his brotherly love wins out. “Sure, of course, here.” He makes a small effort to smile and tosses the keys to me. Crazy. You should never trust a brother like me. Especially not if that brother asks you for an Audi A4 like that one.

I get behind the wheel. It smells new, an impeccable car. I turn the key in the ignition, and the engine turns over.

“Just think. I’m still breaking it in…” He looks at me with some concern and fastens his seat belt.

And I, maybe because of the fact that I’ve just come back to Rome, my desire to shout, oh, I don’t know, the fact that I’d like to free myself of these last two years of silence, of my rage, living so far away, I suddenly jam my foot down on the gas. The Audi screeches, fishtails, protests, rebels, and screams, its tires sliding against the hot asphalt.

Paolo clamps both hands tight on to the handle over the car window. “There, I knew it. I knew it! Why does it always end up like this with you?”

“What are you talking about? I only just got in the car!”

“I meant that a person can never relax around you,” my brother says.

“Okay…” I downshift, taking the curve, and I jiggle the steering wheel just enough so that I’m practically grazing the guardrail. “How’m I doing now?”

Paolo leans back, adjusting his blazer.

“Come on, you know perfectly well I was just needling you. Don’t get so damn worried. I’m different now. I’ve changed.”

“Again? Just how changed are you?”

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