Page 200 of Two Marlboros

“In what way?”

He thought about it for a while and shrugged. “Well, you seem different from when I first met you. I have the impression that you are clearer about what you want and how you want it.”

I was reminded of all the events of those last few weeks - Ryan and his screw-ups, telling Harvey to fuck off, that kind of truce with my father, the relationship with Jimmy...

“Maybe I’m just stopping being the 18-year-old I was.”

“I don’t know, but I think you matured.”

I smiled with some embarrassment, but inside I felt I couldn’t blame him. If I looked back, I felt that that 18-year-old Nathan now belonged in every way to the past.

“Thank you. You can tell that by being with you I’ve learned something.”

At that moment I was seized by a sudden realization, and that was that no one had ever observed me so closely to realize, in just over two months of dating, the growth I had experienced and barely noticed myself. Alan had always observed me, from a distance so as not to interfere, but close enough to be my crutch in times of trouble. I pinned that too among the things no one had ever done for me, not even my relationships-of-less-than-a-year.

We kept strolling, our fingers still intertwined allowing us to find each other in all that welter of people. It was crowded, as Central Park always was, especially at events, but somehowit felt like it was just the two of us. If I thought back to all the hesitation I had had with him, and he with me, I almost had to smile. It had seemed so easy to embrace and hold hands, as if it had been the most natural and obvious thing for us to do.

Alan continued to look relaxed to me, his gaze high and curious toward the cobblestone road that led into the park, toward the world around him. It was good to see him like that. Maybe I could have said he felt free. And that word reminded me of what had happened a few days earlier at my parents’ house.

“Oh, there’s something I wanted to tell you. It’s about my father.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn toward me for a moment, then turn back to look at the road. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know how to say it,” and I realized that, without meaning to, I had shaken his hand a little, “however, all these years I’ve always thought that all I wanted was for my father to love me again.”

Alan shot me a look, slowed his pace, and pulled me to one side of the driveway to let two people pass, his hand always firm in mine. We stopped beside an oak tree that reminded me so much of that fateful evening. Like a flash, the thought flashed through my mind that, unlike that time, we had all taken busy roads to get to the park, even at the cost of lengthening the ride. I wondered whether this had been intentional or not.

“The other day for various reasons I stayed over at my parents’,” I continued. “And I don’t know how, but I found myself making pancakes and my father came to help me. He didn’t say much, but he helped me.”

I searched for words, while inside I felt like a weight that was finally taking flight. I let a small group of parents and children pass by, with one of them who had let go the balloon he was holding and had thus begun to chase after it, screaming so muchthat it overpowered even my thoughts. As soon as they had passed, I took a deep breath and continued.

“There, I always thought I would feel different. That all the pieces would fall into place, like a puzzle, right? All the messes solved. Instead, it didn’t. I was happy, I was excited, however... in a way nothing changed. I was still the same old Nathan. Does that make sense what I’m saying?”

I looked up at him, who had the usual reassuring look of someone who thinks you could never say anything wrong or stupid. It was impossible not to love him.

“Yes, that makes sense to me. And a lot of it, too.”

I thought back to how I had been kicked out of the house, to the hostility my father had reserved for me all those years, to how I had set myself to seek revenge first and affection later. I wanted my father in my life, and as soon as I had had a taste of that....

“I don’t know,” I went on again, “maybe I gave him too much importance all these years. Do you think I’ve given him too much importance?”

He blew out a laugh. “In my opinion you haven’t given enough importance to yourself.”

My hand froze in his, and in response his grip tightened. I looked at him and suddenly remembered my meeting with Harvey. I had told him to fuck off because I had been thinking about Alan and the idea that he might have found me that way had made me ashamed, but perhaps that had not been the only reason. I had felt something else on that occasion - love?

A giggle escaped me. “Wow.”

My synapses began to work at a frantic pace, connecting the dots and putting, now, the pieces where they belonged. It almost felt as if I had rubbed my arm against a glass full of drops and was now able to see through, clear, what before had seemed only fogged.

“Wow,” I said again. “Okay. That makes sense. I like that. I knew you were the smart one.”

Alan walked over to me and gave me a little pat on the nose. It was the booze, for sure, but I wondered if in fact, before Oliver died, he hadn’t always been that way, a very normal guy who enjoyed teasing and mocking the guy he liked.

“So that’s who you really are?”

The question came out of me on its own, without having given it much thought. He looked at me without understanding and watched me for a few more moments.

“‘Really’ how?”

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