Page 38 of Three Times You

“It’s just that my brother was working as an import-export consultant for French champagne, so he wanted to be there to keep an eyeon all the technical aspects.”

“Really? I’m surprised to hear that she didn’t divorce him on the spot when she found out that detail.”

“You’re not allowed to say a critical word about our honeymoon, though. It was a gift from my mother.”

“Yes, and it’s wonderful.” Gin throws her arms around me. “I’m happy, Signor Mancini, very happy indeed. And I’m especially happy to be your wife.” She lifts up on tiptoes and kisses me on the lips and then smiles. “And I even brought you a new swimsuit, seeing that the hotel has a pool. I’m going swimming right away because the last few days have been seriously stressful, and I’m ready to relax.”

“And I’ll come with you.”

So we spend the rest of the morning doing nothing but relaxing. I alternate between an inflatable sky-blue air mattress and a navy-blue canvas lounger, but I especially get lost in watching clouds passing slowly overhead. Gin reads magazines while I leaf through newspapers, skipping the crime pages or anything else that features human evil. I’m looking for relaxation today, as far as the darker side of existence is concerned. I don’t want to think. My mind neither falters nor wallows anywhere.

A bird sails through the sky overhead. Then I hear a car horn. An automobile is climbing the hill. Then it stops in the large garden where I hear the engine die, a car door slam, and then I see him arrive at poolside: none other than Giorgio Renzi.

“Well, how are my little lovebirds? Are you ready to set off on your honeymoon? I’ll take you to the airport if you don’t mind;that way you can get ready without haste but also without excessive dawdling. I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight and all the various connections that follow. Your brother told me all about it last night. It’s going to be a fantastic trip, and, what’s more, he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“You’re trying to get me out of the way, aren’t you? I wonder why you two are trying to sideline me. You’re definitely not telling me everything…”

Giorgio sits down at a poolside table. “If you want the full picture, we’re in negotiations with Spain, Holland, and Germany. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe there will be good news awaiting you when you return home.

“Even better, tomorrow afternoon I have an audition for Dania Valenti. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done. You see? I want to spare you this kind of nonsense.”

“So you’re saying I can leave without a worry in my mind?”

Chapter 29

Let’s go pack our bags. Otherwise, Giorgio will show up here and catch us unprepared.”

I get down two Samsonite suitcases and start packing. Gin and I roam through the apartment, bumping into each other occasionally and far more often calling out questions from room to room.

“Where are the swimsuits, anyway?” I ask.

“Where they’ve always been, the last armoire at the end of the hall, in the top drawer, where you’ll also find bathrobes and towels.”

“They’ve always been there?”

Gin starts laughing. “Always. Every now and then, they’ve jumped into the washing machine, but they’ve spent most of their time right there.”

“Okay, good to know.”

And we go on picking out T-shirts, shirts, shorts, shoes, and at least one jacket each.

“Will it be cold there?” she asks.

“In Polynesia?”

“I mean, I don’t know, at night?”

“Only if you have the AC turned up too high. Let’s head downstairs,” I say.

No sooner does Giorgio ring the doorbell than we’re already out the front door. He helps us to load our luggage into his VW Golf, and minutes later, we’re speeding through Prati on our way to the Via Aurelia, heading for the airport in Fiumicino.

“Excited?”

“Delighted!” Gin is sitting in back, in the center seat. “It’s all I’ve been waiting for this past whole month, to leave on our honeymoon.”

Before long, we see signs for parking at Fiumicino airport.

“Here we are.”

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