Page 10 of Two Chances With You

“Hey, listen, it’s the latest model, a fantastic Nokia.”

“A cell phone?”

“Nice, isn’t it? It’s got great reception everywhere. Just think, I got it thanks to a friend of mine, because it’s not even in stores yet. It’s an N70. It’s got everything, and it’s even tiny. It fits right in your jacket pocket.” He slips it in his pocket to show me how true that is.

“You certainly have some busy friends, don’t you?”

“Et voilà, you see? And then this is how you open it and you can even turn the sound off and just let it vibrate for notifications. Here.”

He didn’t even hear my joke. He’s just waiting to see what I think of it. “Thanks” is the only thing I can manage to get out. “I really needed a cell phone.”

“And you already have your own number, 335-808080. Easy, right? Again, thanks to my friend over at Telecom.”

He’s even more satisfied now. My brother and his friends. Now I have a number. I’m tagged. Identified. Reachable. Maybe.

“It’s beautiful, but now I really absolutely need to take a shower.” I toss the cell phone onto the bed.

Paolo leaves the room, shaking his head: “Wait and see, that cell phone won’t last long if you treat it like that.”

My brother. There’s nothing I can do about it. He’s such a bore. And yet we were both born from the same seed, or at least I hope so.

I turn on the radio, there on the nightstand, and tune to a station. As I undress, I start laughing, all on my own. My mother who brought Paolo into the world, the son of another man. That would be too much. At least I’d have an explanation. But I’m going to have to rule that out. Those were other times. Times of love.

I like this song. I start humming something.

***

I’m downstairs from Paolo’s apartment. I’ve seen the lights turning on. I know that this is his brother’s new apartment.

There, now I see him. Step walks in front of the window. That must be his bedroom. Hey, wait, he’s undressing. And he must be singing something. I put in my earbuds. I turn on the radio on my cell phone. I change stations until I think I find what Step must be humming. I look at the station. Ram Power 102.7.

I look at the time. It’s late, I’d better get home. My folks must be waiting for me.

***

“Paolo, do you happen to have a towel?”

“I already put towels and washcloths in the bathroom. You’ll find them, arranged by color, light blue for your face, dark blue for the bidet, and then a dark blue bathrobe hanging on the door.”

I walk out in front of the door.

“Damn, you’re looking good. Have you lost weight?”

“Yes. In America, they train differently in the gym. Lots of boxing. In my first matches, I found out just how slow we are here in Rome.”

“You’ve got some nice muscle definition.”

“Since when have you learned these sorts of technical terms?” I can hear my rougher Roman accent coming to the surface.

“I’m going to a gym now.”

“I can’t believe my ears. It’s about time! Just think, you used to give me such a hard time about it. ‘Why are you wasting time in the gym, what do you care about your physique’ and all that…So now you’re going yourself?”

“Well, Fabiola talked me into it.”

“Ah, there you go. You see, I’m already starting to like this Fabiola.”

“She said that I spend too much time sitting down and that a man has to decide who he is physically by age thirty-three.”

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