Page 106 of Two Chances With You

“Ah, nothing. I came in my friend Guido’s car, but he’s already left.”

“Don’t worry, I have mine here. I’ll give you a ride, okay?”

And I get into a dark blue Mini Cooper, the latest model, with stereo and CD player. “Funny, isn’t it?” She glances over at me as she drives. “We first met with a ride on a motorcycle where I got up behind you, and this time we meet again, where we ride in a car but I’m driving and you get in.”

“Yes, funny.” I don’t know what else to say. I just wonder whether Guido had imagined that this would happen too. An impeccable Candlewick with a clever, brilliant mind. I see his smile again in my mind’s eye, the wink and his perfect exit, stage left, like a great puppeteer of other people’s fates. But why mine?

“Here.” Babi hands me her scarf.

“Thanks. But I’m not cold!”

She laughs. “Silly.” Now she gives me a more serious look. “Put it over your eyes. You’re not supposed to see. You remember, don’t you? Now it’s my turn. And you’re going to have to go along with the game.”

Without a word, I tie the scarf around my head, the way she did back then. That time on the motorcycle behind me. She and her eyes, blindfolded, flying away fearlessly, letting herself be swept away toward that house in Ansedonia, that night, her first time. Now I can feel her driving, calmly, turning up the stereo a little, letting myself be carried along by the music, by her, by that bottle of rum sloshing around inside of me.

“Okay, we’re here.”

I take off my blindfold, and in the dim light, I glimpse it. The Tower.

“Do you remember? That time you fell asleep?”

How could I forget? Then, when we woke up, we quarreled, and after that, made peace. The way that lovers make peace. And before I even know what’s happening, I find her in my arms. And yet, we haven’t quarreled. No, not this time.

She kisses me. Softly, without shame, she smiles in the half light. And she continues that way, caressing me. “I’ve missed you, you know that?”

I feel foolish, what can I say? Is it even true? Why is she telling me that? I want to remain silent above all but a simple “Yes?” escapes my lips.

“Seriously.” She smiles. Then she unbuttons my shirt and goes even further. Without haste, but determined, confident, far more confident than before, if I remember the way I last saw her.

“Come on. Get out.” Babi practically shoves me out of the car, and she laughs. She takes off her blouse and undoes her bra, uncovering her breasts. She lets the rain run over her and off her skin, caressed by the raindrops and then by me, as I run my tongue over her flesh, over her wet nipples. With confident hands, she undoes my belt, unzips my trousers and lets them fall down my legs, and then inserts her hand and whispers in my ear, “Hello, here he is. Ciao. It’s been a while.”

Bold and daring in a way she’d never been before. Or at least, never with me. Then she kisses me on the chest while raindrops keep pouring out of the sky. And Babi slides down, letting herself be carried by those drops until she finds me. And I let myself go, carried along by the rum, the rain falling out of the sky, and byher, kneeling so low. And the pleasure is killing me, and I’m suffering just admitting it.

By now, wet all over as she sucks me off, practically angrily, I let myself be carried away. All that time gone by. All that pain under the bridge. All that I lost.

I raise my head to the sky. Suddenly I see those raindrops, caressed by that shaft of light from a distant moon. I’d like to match my actions to Battisti’s song. “But I said no, and now I’m coming back to you with all my miseries, with my hopes stillborn, that I no longer have the courage to paint with life…”

But instead, I remain. And she goes on like that, not stopping, faster and faster, with her mouth greedily seeking out everything that belongs to me.

Then she pulls away, stands up, and hauls me down to the ground with her, and I let myself fall. I stretch out beside her in the falling rain. And she climbs up onto me and hikes her skirt, and by now, she’s wearing no panties underneath. Wet all over, she spreads my hands wide and is on top of me.

The rain keeps falling. I hold on to the ground with my hands as my head spins; I’ve had too much to drink. From above me, Babi smiles down and takes her pleasure and looks at me, lustful and sensual. And for a moment, I just wish I wasn’t there. How could I wish that? That smile of hers, that long-beloved smile, wasn’t that what I came back for?

And suddenly a flash. No light, just awareness. Like a nocturnal bird, a flutter of wings, thunderous in its delicacy. Gin’s voice.

“Will you call me later?”

“Yes, maybe I’ll call you.”

“No maybe about it. Let’s talk later! And don’t say you’ll call me, say you love me!”

And then, like pixels in an overexposed photo, an out-of-focus image on a Polaroid, suddenly the picture forms with great clarity in my mind. Sweet Gin, tender Gin, funny Gin, innocent Gin. She appears before me, entirely, in all her beauty. And the distant moon seems to present me with a new face, hers. Crushed, heartbroken, disappointed, betrayed. And in that lunar pallor, I see everything I wish I’d never seen.

As if by enchantment, the rain falls harder, and the fumes of all the alcohol I swigged begin to disperse. And I, suddenly lucid, try to squirm out from under Babi. But she clutches me tighter, rising and falling above me with an intensity practically verging on rage. No, she won’t let me escape. As if spurred on by the fact that I’m trying to get away, she leaves me no breathing room, no truce, no respite. More, and more, and more. She only dismounts at the last moment when I’m in the throes of my orgasm and I come. And satisfied, placated, by now satiated, she collapses on top of me. She abandons herself like that, leaving my semen and my guilt lying somewhere on the ground.

Then she gives me a light kiss, and all I know is that I just feel so much the guiltier. And she smiles, beneath the rain, more driven than ever, more woman than before. Different. A funhouse mirror image of what I once loved so deeply.

“You know, Step, there’s something I need to tell you…”

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