Page 28 of Two Chances With You

She looks at me. “Stefano, my folks aren’t around anymore. They’re both dead.”

My blood freezes in my veins. My expression changes. “I’m sorry.”

We ride along like that for a while, in silence. The car tools along quickly. I look straight ahead at the road, trying to bury my stupid misstep under those fast white stripes. I hear her breathe, for all I know she’s crying softly. I can’t stand to turn around but I have to.

And I see her there in the corner, looking at me. Huddled up against the window. Sitting sideways. Then, all at once, she bursts out laughing like a lunatic. “Oh my God, I can’t stand it anymore. What I told you was utter bullshit! So now we’re even, okay? Truce.” And just like that, she pops a CD into the stereo. “So that upset you, did it? You act like a tough guy but, deep down, you’re just a big softie.” Ginevra laughs and bounces along to the music of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. “All right then, where are we going to eat?”

I drive in silence. Fuck, she screwed me. Nice move, but a bit of a bitch. How can you kid around about something like that? I go on driving, staring straight ahead.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her dance. She moves perfectly to the music, laughing as she sit-dances to “Scar Tissue.” She swings her hair. She laughs every now and then, biting her lower lip.

“Oh, come on, you didn’t really take offense, did you?” She looks at me. “Excuse me very much. You’re driving my car. Okay, with your gas in the tank, I’ll say that before you can bring it up again. You’re taking a girl to dinner with your friends, right? Or something like that…So you really have no reason to be upset, do you? You said it yourself. Lighten up. Have fun. Smile! And I did it. So now why can’t you?”

I continue to say nothing.

“Oh my God. He’s holding a grudge. He’s decided to pout. Would you have been happier if they really were dead? All right, then, let’s try some basic conversation. How areyourfolks?”

“Excellent, they’re divorced.”

“Of course they are! Copycat. Mamma mia, you’re so obvious. Can’t you dream up anything better than that?” Ginevra asks.

“What can I do if it’s true? You really are something. You see, it’s all your fault. You undermined the credibility of anything we might have to say to each other.”

“You’re not seriously saying that—”

“Oh, yes I am. I already told you so.”

Then she sits in silence for a while. She looks at me with a baffled expression. She studies me with a side glance. “It’s not true.”

“I told you it is.”

She’s still not fully convinced of what I’ve told her. As I drive, I turn to look at her. We ride along like that for a while, staring into each other’s eyes. It’s a sort of competition. Then she’s the first to look away. She seems to be blushing. But the light is too dim to know whether or not that’s true.

“Hey, eyes front, focus on the road. It might be your gas, but it’s my car, okay? So try not to wreck it.”

I smile without letting her see.

“You lied to me. That was bullshit, right? They’re not divorced.”

“Of course they are, and they have been for a number of years now.”

“Well, if that’s true, I’m sorry. Anyway, I read somewhere that more than sixty percent of all couples with grown children are divorced. So…”

“So?”

“So that’s a statistic you can’t use to act like a victim,” Ginevra says.

“Who’s trying to act like a victim? Not me. But listen to this…”

I’m tempted to tell her the whole story, maybe because she doesn’t know anything about me or because she’s showing some trust, or else for some other reason I don’t even understand. But I don’t, something holds me back.

“What are you thinking about? Your folks?”

“No, I was thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about me if you don’t even know me?” she asks.

“I was just thinking how nice it is when you don’t know someone, but you have them sitting next to you, and all the problems you don’t have, how you can imagine them, you can just work on fantasy, and you go where you want to with your mind.”

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