Page 8 of Three Times You

“So five hundred euros nowadays will buy what thirty pieces of silver used to be worth,” I comment sarcastically.

Giuliana looks up, pleadingly.

“Tell me what happened.”

Chapter 9

Giuliana is starting to realize that she’s wandered into something much bigger than her. “I used to see her every day in the café where I’d go for coffee and a breakfast pastry. She was always there before me. Sitting in a corner with her newspaper,Repubblica, I think, but looking as if she had other things on her mind.

“So one morning, I was at the counter ordering my usual whole-grain and honey pastry when I was told they’d run out. So she came over and offered me hers. We sat and ate together, and before long, we were breakfast buddies, I guess you could say.”

Giorgio listens intently and then gestures as if to say,Whoa, buddy, this woman was planning things out. I have to agree.

“Okay, and what details did you share with this new friend of yours?” I ask. Giuliana sits silently.

I persist. “What did you tell her about me?”

Giuliana looks up and shakes her head. “I didn’t tell her anything.” But I don’t believe her.

“Just get to the point.”

She goes on. “She asked the kind of things you’d ask, where I worked, what I did. Nothing more…”What else was she supposed to ask, I thought to myself, but I refrained from interrupting. “Another time, she told me about the work she did. She said she was an illustrator, and she did children’s books. She showed me one of her books. Then she said, ‘Maybe they need someone at your company. I could do a really artistic logo.’ And then she asked me my boss’s name. I told her, that’s not a company secret. She was shocked. ‘I can’t believe it. He’s a dear, dear friend.’ So I said: ‘So much the better! You won’t need me to show him your work.’”

I look at Giorgio. Neither of us knows what to say.

“But now she looked sad. I asked why, and she told me the two of you had quarreled, and through no choice of her own, you weren’t friends anymore.”

I’m more confused than ever, but Giorgio comes to my aid. “And then what, excuse me? She offers you five hundred euros to help her run into Stefano by chance? Help me out here, your story just doesn’t add up.”

“Well, actually, nothing else happened that day. I didn’t see her again for another month or so. One morning, she sat down at my table, where I was already eating. And then something really did happen. As sweet as could be, she said, ‘You need to know the truth. Otherwise you can’t make up your mind whether or not to help me.’”

Then Giuliana says nothing, as if trying to build up the suspense. “I was uncomfortable, so I went to the restroom. When I got back, there was a folder on the table. I thought it was just more of her work, but I was wrong.”

This time, Giuliana has managed to build up tension. “She says, ‘Open it.’ So I did, and I saw it was a page from an old copy of the Rome newspaperIl Messaggero.”

Giorgio cocks an eyebrow in bafflement, but I understand immediately.

“It was a picture of the two of you, on a motorcycle, running from the cops, or at least that’s what the caption said. I was stumped. I asked her ‘What’s this all about?’” Giuliana falls silent, as if reliving that scene.

Giorgio and I lean forward, consumed with curiosity. In unison, without a glance at each other, we both exclaim, “And then what happened?”

“Not a word of explanation. She just looked at me and said, ‘I lost my chance at happiness.’”

Chapter 10

The ancient Greeks said that fate is the unexpected bursting in on life, a momentary variable that has the power of a hurricane. In one day, more has happened to me than in the past six years. And that’s why the ancient Greeks went to their oracles, to find out how to turn destiny into character.

Luckily, I have Giorgio to take the situation in hand, even if he’s not exactly the Delphic oracle. “Okay, give us the room, please.”

Giuliana stands up and walks to the door. Before leaving, she turns and glances at me. “I don’t know, something about what she said really hit me. I thought she might be telling the truth. Yes, in a certain sense, I did it for her happiness,” she says with a faint smile, as if she knows she really put her foot in it this time. Then she turns and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Giorgio stands up, walks over to the fridge, and opens it. He looks inside. “You know, I’d restock the fridge. No more Coca-Cola and green tea. Just beer, vodka, and rum. Strong drink, in other words. I mean, we’re on new ground. This is a ‘search for happiness’ now.”

“Shut up and give me another Coke.”

“Well? If nothing else, we might have a format for a series.”

“Not bad. This could be the pilot,” I say.

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