Page 37 of Three Times You

I say nothing, clink glasses delicately, and then look her in the eye as we each take a sip.

“Do you like me with my hair dark like this? You didn’t recognize me at first, did you?” She says nothing more and just smiles at me. “It’s a wig. I wore it for you. I wanted to be your last girlfriend, your last kiss as a single man…”She continues looking at me as I drain my glass of champagne and set it down. She stands up, picks up the bottle, and fills both our glasses again, handing me mine.

“May I?” And she points at the sofa. She wants to sit down beside me. She wants to seduce me.

“It’s your boat.”

“But unless you give me permission, I won’t do a thing.”

I look at her without speaking for a moment. She seems calm and collected, and maybe she really would do whatever I told her. I pat the sofa cushion. “Be my guest.”

She steps closer, sits down, and takes another sip of champagne. Then she picks up a remote, dims the lights, and turns up the music. Then she leans forward, slowly starts to unbuckle the straps on her shoes, and then takes them both off. Now she’s barefoot.

“Oh, there, that’s more comfortable. I put on this wig because tonight I don’t want to be Babi anymore. I’d like to be anyone else, but a girl you like so much that you can’t resist me and so you decide to spend a special night with me. Will you give me that gift?”

And she looks at me, her eyes intense and languid, her lips slightly parted, and I stare at her mouth, her teeth, her smile glimmering in the dim light. How many times have I dreamed of that mouth, how many times have I shattered armoire doors with my fist because you were no longer mine, Babi?

“I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“I know, but tonight you’re here, with me.”

She places a hand on my chest and lets it slide down onto my belly. Then she pulls me to her and leans toward my face. She opens her mouth next to mine and inhales my breath as if she wants to live on me.

At that moment, Gin appears to me, her big, kind eyes, her laughter, the letter with this morning’s breakfast, her parents, Don Andrea, the choice of both church and menu, the words spoken, the promises made. And I feel guilty, wrong, and I wish I had the strength to stand up and walk away, but I do nothing. I just close my eyes.

I’ve had so much to drink. And it’s as if I could hear someone laugh and say, no, you’re right, it’s not enough of an explanation. But Babi is wearing the wig, she’s a different person now, it’s a stag party like any other, it’s just one last roll in the hay, nothing more than that…Sure, that’s right.

But I know that that isn’t true either. Babi takes my right hand and guides it up her legs, up up under her skirt. She lets me feel how much she wants me. Then she climbs up on top of me and straddles me, closer than ever.

“Love me, come on and love me still, just for tonight. The way it once was, or even more than that…”

And we kiss, losing ourselves.

Chapter 27

Iwon’t bore you with my awakening aboard the yacht, the trip back in reverse in daylight, and then my shower and shave and dressing in my suite at the Hilton. It all seemed like a dream until I found myself in the all-too-real church, at the altar, facing Don Andrea.

The music seems to swell as the people all take their places and the church fills up. Then from the light-drenched forecourt, I see Gin enter through the portal, arm in arm with her father. She’s beautiful, beaming, in a white gown, her shoulders bare, the veil long. And her happiness overwhelms me, sweeps me away, removes my every doubt, even the slightest uncertainty.

Babi was nothing but one last bout of sex, a bachelor party saturnalia with lots of free-flowing champagne and a lust for fun. Whereas this is my life.

Gin walks through the crowd, past the pews, beaming with contentment, and the music seems almost deafening, and everything is perfect. Yes, now I’m capable of answering that question that everyone kept hammering away at. I’m happy. I’m very happy.

Chapter 28

The next morning, Gin and I wake up at the hotel. We have a lovely breakfast in the garden, and I have to say that, luckily, my hangover seems to be a thing of the past. I have no headache, and, not having had a lot to eat, I feel light and unburdened. Paolo and Fabiola helped to organize the details of the honeymoon trip, and everything is taken care of and perfect. We leave this evening at nine o’clock. They left all the paperwork for me in the room.

“Fiji, Cook Islands, and Polynesia, a magnificent trip. We’ll be traveling around the world, and we’ll be gone, all told, for three weeks.”

“Look at that. There are even brochures and guidebooks. Your brother certainly takes care of things down to the slightest detail.”

“It’s Fabiola, and she must surely be giving him a hard time because this is the honeymoon trip she would have wanted to go on when they got married.”

“Well, where did they go instead?”

“A week in France, in Épernay.”

“Well, still, that must have been nice. There’s plenty of excellent champagne. Maybe that’s not the absolute ideal after the stress of getting married though.”

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