Page 21 of Three Times You

“Ciao, Babi. Ciao, Step. What are you up to? Everyone’s over at my house. Why don’t you guys come too?”

And Babi was naked, and my hand was there with her, and despite his arrival, I hadn’t stopped at all. Babi looked at me, and I just smiled at her, but still without stopping. Then she turned to look at Lorenzo.

“No, thanks. We’re just going to stay here.”

Lorenzo said nothing, and neither did we for a few seconds. I had the impression he was about to insist.

Then it finally dawned on him that he was the third arrival who made a crowd, and his presence wasn’t needed or desired. “Okay…Have it your way.” And without another word, he took off on his Vespa and vanished down the end of the street.

Babi kissed me and led me inside. After making love, we were famished, and we ate dinner at midnight. It was dark out and I rekindled the fire. We warmed up by drinking red wine and kissing each other hungrily, as if nothing could ever separate us. It was all so perfect that we’d happily have stayed there, together, forever.

Forever, what a terrifying word. So I turn to the next page, and I’m suddenly breathless.

Chapter 17

My son is in his crib with a baby-blue ribbon and a bracelet on his wrist to make sure there are no mix-ups, that we don’t lose him. Number 3201B. A number and his face, the features barely sketched out in the flesh. It’s the day of his birth, and he still has no idea of anything, much less the fact that his father, namely me, isn’t there. As far as that goes, it’s an ignorance we share, since I knew nothing about him either.

The photo carries Babi’s words as a caption.I wish you could have been there, at my side, today, July 18. You’re both born under the same sign. Will he be like you? Every time I kiss him, hug him, and smell his hair, it will be like having you near me. You’re here with me. You’reMineForever.Without spaces.

One after another, I flip through his pictures, like a succession of different times, moments, and seasons in a flip book. I’d already seen some of these pictures on her Facebook page, but having them in my hands now, carefully curated and not just tossed out randomly, makes me feel like I’m part of something that I’d never have been able to imagine and to which I can’t assign a name.

But he has one. Massimo in his high chair, Massimo crawling on a light blue carpet, and Massimo wearing a funny T-shirt with the wordsI WILL SURFwritten on the chest. And for each picture, a note, a caption, a sweet thought that Babi added just for me.Today he said his first word. He said Mamma, not Papà. It really touched me and I cried. Those tears are for you. Why aren’t you here?she writes, addressing a Step who isn’t there, who doesn’t know, and with whom she’d like to share all the most wonderful things she has.

Today he was such a good boy. He pushed himself up against the wall and started walking, one foot after another. Then he stopped, turned to look at me, and just stared, Step, I tell you…At that moment I felt like I was dying. He has your exact same eyes, your gaze, your tough determination. I stepped closer to help him and he pulled one hand away from the wall and, instead of taking my hand, pushed it away. You understand? It’s you, no two ways about it!

I feel like laughing, and more, but I keep what’s churning inside me hidden.

In the successive photographs, Massimo has a different look on his face. He’s grown.Today he ate every last bite, and without spitting anything up on me! It’s a miraculous day. Just a minute ago, a motorcycle went by, and it reminded me of the noise yours made, when I could hear it coming from Piazza Giuochi Delfici and then down Via di Vigna Stelluti, and then Via Colajanni—which you’d roar down at full speed until you reached Piazza Jacini. The doorman Fiore would let you through, raising the barrier because he was afraid you’d break it. But that motorcycle that went by today wasn’t you. Where are you, Step? Did you follow to the letter that song you loved so much:“Try to avoid all the places I hang out in, places that you know so well…”Well, you did it. We haven’t run into each other even once. It’s true.

And in silence, I continue turning the pages of that photo album, his second, third, fourth birthday party, his hair growing longer, darker. He’s skinnier and taller until I see the little boy I met in person just a few days ago. And to see him transformed like that, picture by picture, page after page, it feels like a moment I’ve already lived sometime, in a previous existence. I desperately try to remember, and my mind wanders through the past. I squint as if trying to focus on something that’s escaping me. I feel like a man crouching down on all fours on a beach, both hands plunged into the sand, hunting for a beautiful woman’s lost earring. Then, when I suddenly open my eyes again, the beautiful stranger disappears, while it’s as if that memory reshapes itself right in my hands.

I’m right there. At Babi’s house, on the sofa.She leaned over, opened a drawer in a small white chest, and pulled out a photo album. We started leafing through it together, and in photograph after photograph, she grew too. As did my curiosity and my jealousy for everything I hadn’t experienced…I made fun of her for how funny she looked when she was little, but I didn’t tell her how much I loved every second of her life. The changes in hairstyle, those birthday parties and anniversaries now long since forgotten.

There’s one photo that she didn’t want me to see. She wanted to skip it, and then we wrestled until I managed to win the battle. It was a picture where she was crossing her eyes. And I laughed as I looked at it. “Strange, that’s the one that looks most like you.” That same day, she got mad at me because I found a diary in her bedroom and started reading it. It wasn’t long, though, before we’d made peace and we started making out. At a certain point, we stopped. She suddenly pulled away and raised her forefinger, holding it up to her lips. “Shh…”

“What’s wrong?”

She walked over to the window and pulled open the blind. “My parents are here!” And quickly she walked me to the front door. And I was dying to spend more time with her.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

The door opens, and Gin pokes her head in. “Ciao! What are you up to? Am I intruding?” She asks the question with a broad smile.

“No, are you kidding? Come on in.”

I barely get a chance to shut the photo album and put another file with a project in it on top of it.

“Darling, don’t you remember? We have a very important appointment. I only came up because you weren’t answering your phone…”

“It’s true. I’m sorry. I’d silenced it.”

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.”

“I’ll be right with you.” I shut the door behind me and call out to Giorgio. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I’m probably going to be back very late.”

“All right. Ciao, Gin.”

“Ciao, Giorgio.” And we leave the office and enter the elevator. Gin pushes the button for the ground floor. “Hey. Everything all right?”

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