Page 9 of Two Chances With You

He reminds me, inadvertently, of that Christmas two and a half years ago. Maybe he realizes it and regrets it a little. “Well, I’m going into my room. You get yourself settled the way you like.”

I put my bag on the bed, unzip it, and start pulling clothing out. An Abercrombie track jacket. Faded jeans, Junya brand. A khaki-colored Vintage 55 sweatshirt. Well-pressed Brooks Brothers shirts. I hang them all up in a white armoire. There are plenty of drawers. I open my other suitcase as well and fill them all. At the bottom of the duffel bag is a gift-wrapped package. I pull it out and go to the other room. Paolo is in his bedroom, lying down on the bed, his feet poking out.

“Here,” I say as I toss the package onto his belly. He folds in two as if I’d just punched him in the stomach and then places the package next to him on the bed.

“Thanks. Why did you do that?” He always seems to want an explanation.

“It’s the latest American fashion.”

He unwraps it and lays it out to look at it. He seems a little baffled.

“It’s a New York City Fire Department jacket. Down there, people who’ve really made it like to wear these jackets.”

Now that he’s been told, he obviously likes it better. “Let me try it on!” He puts it on over his jacket and takes a look at himself in the mirror.

I do my best not to laugh.

“Hell, that’s great!” That doesn’t really sound much like him. He really likes it. “You even got the size right.”

“Take care of it. It’s worth as much as a room of your apartment.”

“Did it really cost that much?”

“Hey, sure, but your bedroom is nicer. It’s bigger.”

“Yes, I know that, Step, but…”

“Paolo…I was just kidding.”

Paolo heaves a sigh of relief.

“No, seriously though, you’ve really got this place looking nice.”

“You can’t imagine how much it cost me.” Here we go, the accountant rears his head again.

I go back to my bedroom and start getting undressed. I want a shower.

Paolo comes into the bedroom. He’s still wearing his jacket with the tag hanging from the neck and has a package in his hand. “I have a surprise for you too.” He starts to toss it to me but then he thinks better of it and just hands it to me. “I shouldn’t throw it. It’s breakable.”

I open it, my curiosity aroused.

“It’s for your birthday.” He manages to embarrass me. “I mean, actually, it’s for the birthday you had while you were in America. All we could do was call you.”

“Yes, I heard the message on my answering machine.” I continue to unwrap the gift. I try not to think back to that day. But I can’t do it.July 21. Staying out all day intentionally to avoid waiting pointlessly by the telephone. Then coming home to see the answering machine blinking. One message, two, three, four. Four messages, four calls received. Four possibilities. Four hopes. Let’s hear the first. “Hello, ciao, Stefano, it’s your papà. Happy birthday! You thought I’dforgotten, didn’t you?” My father. He always has to throw in a little extra humor in everything he does.

I push the button and fast forward. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to Step…” My brother. My brother, no less, singing birthday wishes to me over the telephone. What a nut!

Two messages left. “Ciao, Stefano…” No. It’s my mother. I listen to her in silence. Her voice flows softly, slowly, full of love, perhaps sounding weary, a little bit. So I squint my eyes. I clench my fists. And I choke back those tears. Successfully. Today is my birthday, Mamma. I want to be cheerful, I want to laugh, I want to feel good, Mamma…Yes, I miss you too. There are so many things I miss. But today I’d rather not think about them. Please. “Best wishes to you again, Stefano, and seriously, call me when you can. Kisses.”

Now there’s just one message left. The green light blinks soundlessly. I look at it in silence. Slowly, it lights up and blinks out. That green light could be the best birthday present of my life. Babi’s voice. The idea that she might miss me too. That I might be able to go back in time for a moment, back to then, to start over.

I go on dreaming for a moment. Then I push the button. “Ciao, living legend! How are you doing? Oh, such an absurd pleasure to hear your voice, even if it’s only on an answering machine. You can’t imagine how I miss you. It’s killing me. Rome is empty without you. But you recognized my voice, right? It’s me, Pallina. Certainly, by now I have something more of a woman’s voice. All right, well, I’ve got an ocean full of things to tell you. Where should we begin? Well, let’s see…After all, I can take my time, my folks are out. I’ll call you from home, and I’ll make the call as long as I want, whatever the cost, seeing that they pissed me off. So I’ll punish them a little. Why not?” She makes me laugh, she warms my heart. I listen to her with a smile.

But I can’t lie, not to myself. That wasn’t the phone call I was hoping for. It’s not a birthday without Babi’s voice. I don’t feel as if I was ever really born.And yet, now, after more than two years, here I am, back again.

“Well, what do you say? Do you like it?”

I finish unwrapping it, and then I pause to look at the box.

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