Page 81 of Three Times You

Don Andrea squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Well, you see, I’ve been lucky. In my life, I’ve had two roses, Step and Aurora. I’ve dedicated myself to them, and they’ve made me happy. But that’s exactly why I’m responsible for their lives.”

Gin turned and looked into Don Andrea’s eyes. “So I’ll watch over them every second of every day. And you can help me.”

“How?”

“By making sure that, in their lives, they always do everything to make sure they’re truly happy. By trying to watch over them, even if it’s from a distance. And if you realize that something’s not right, then maybe you can speak to them, the way you did with us that evening before our wedding.”

Don Andrea remained sitting in silence.

“Will you promise me?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“And if it seems to you that Step is having a hard time after my death, you tell him that he’s my rose and that he needs to put his heart at rest because I’ll always be with him. Just like I’ll always be with my little Aurora.” Then Gin turned once again to look toward the window. “One time I read him a beautiful line from a book. Life is like a bicycle, to keep your balance you must keep moving and pedaling as hard as you can. Einstein said it. So, that’s how I want it, Don Andrea. If you see them looking sad, share that quote with them.”

The priest was deeply moved, but he did his best to smile. “Do you feel like saying confession now?”

“All right.”

And so Don Andrea listened to Gin’s confession, and after a few minutes, they both crossed themselves.

“Now I’m going to have to ask you to excuse me, but I’m feeling tired.”

“Certainly, don’t worry about it.”

Gin shut her eyes. Don Andrea remained there, looking at her. In silence, he raised his right hand and blessed her. Then he stood up, put the chair back where it belonged, carefully to avoid making any noise, took one last look at Aurora, and left the room.

There, that’s clear, Lord, such a beautiful and generous young woman. You certainly introduced me to her to teach me something. Right now, though, the only thing I know for sure is that I miss her.

***

Eleonora takes the large photo album bound in ivory leather off the bookshelf in the living room. Then she calls out to Marcantonio. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Marcantonio arrives with a tray. On it are two herbal teapots, cane sugar, and a plate of cookies. “All set.”

They both sit down on the large white sofa. And Ele starts leafing through the photo album. One after another, the pictures of their wedding go turning past. The church, the ceremony, the priest, and the hail of rice and tiny scraps of paper with famous quotes about love written on them. Then the park of the villa for the official photographs and, once more, the swimming pool with all the guests in bathing suits in the water. Their wedding reception was just like that, a big informal party where you could go swimming and just relax and float. In one photo, they see Step raising a glass of champagne toward the lens. But he’s not smiling. After that, the dinner, the buffet, the musicians, and the bomboniere, fragrant-smelling party favors given out at Italian weddings.

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Just beautiful.”

“She’s the only one who isn’t there…”

“Just because there are no pictures of her. But you know, she was there, and she’s still with us.”

“Yes.”

Marcantonio embraces Ele. “Shall we drink our herbal tea?”

“Yes, let’s.”

“You know something? We’re going to have to get another photo album.”

“Why? Are we going to get remarried?”

“No, you dummy! You know the kind I mean, the ones with teddy bears or little flowers on the cover. I don’t know which.”

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