“It just doesn’t make sense to me, Capo,” Max said, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
A shiver passed through Iris’s naked body, instantly dispelling the delicious afterglow she was enjoying. Pulling the sheet up to her chin, she said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, things are getting really busy for me now that spring is here. I’ll be traveling a lot,” Max said. “I have that Italian islands series to finish. By the end of next month, I have to do the Tremiti shoot.
“Where’s that?” Max had never mentioned islands by that name before, and Iris had never heard of them.
“Off the Adriatic coast,” Max said.
“Oh,” Iris said. Everything on the Adriatic coast was far from Liguria, not to mention anything off the Adriatic coast. With the hotel gearing up for the new season, there was no way she would be able to get off work to join him there.
“Then we head back to the west coast to do Elba and the Tuscan archipelago.” Tuscany wasn’t terribly far; she might drive down in the Seicento. Even so, there was no way around the fact that all islands were pretty damn inconvenient to get to, especially if you were in a hurry.
“Then it’ll be down to Sardinia, then Sicily. I’m planning to hit Lampedusa and Linosa and Pantelleria, then swing back up to the Egadi islands and probably head over to a couple more of the Aeolians.” He might as well be talking about Hawaii, or Fiji.
“God, that sounds amazing,” Iris said. Ever since their trip to Stromboli, she kept a map of Italy in her desk drawer, so she could follow Max around with her imagination, even when she was at work. When he first told her of his itinerary, she had highlighted the islands on the map, dreaming of going there with him some day. Some day.
She glanced at Max from the corner of her eye and saw that he was still starting at the ceiling. “So, what is it that doesn’t make sense?” she asked.
“I’ll basically be gone until the fall, Capo,” Max said.
“And so ...’” Iris said, wondering why he was hesitating to just speak his mind like he always did. She was still trying to get her head around the idea of him being gone for so long, but if he had something else to tell her - if he wanted to be cut free for the summer, for example; if he wanted to end things now, if he wanted to wreck her life and destroy her dreams, he should have the courage to come out and tell her.
“What I mean,” Max said, “is that it would be a goddamn waste to go to such fucking incredible places all alone.”
By now, she knew Max would never be “all alone”; she had seen how things worked. There would be a not necessarily all-male crew, and certainly the latest in his long line of female assistants, whoever she may be. The thought of him spending the coming weeks shooting in all those romantic locations “assisted” by some eager, scantily-clad twenty-year-old, while Iris put in twelve-hour days at the hotel was more than she could bear. And now that she was living on her own, she had no one around to distract her from obsessing about Max when he was away. Each time he set off for a trip in the company of people she didn’t know, each time he described to her (when he didn’t misplace or forget to charge his cell phone) all the beautiful places he was seeing, and all the fascinating women he was meeting, the precariously balanced bliss of her newly acquired solitude was shattered. Iris was sure there was nothing to worry about as long as he told her about the women, but that did not change the fact that she longed to be with him, to share his experiences, to meet those same fascinating people, and see those same beautiful sights. She could imagine the army of little blue pills she would need to combat her anxiety during such a long absence, just to keep functioning. She made a mental note to get another prescription filled.
“I’ll be staying at the trendiest new resorts and eating at the best restaurants, all for free,” Max said.
“How lovely,” Iris said.
“If you don’t find a way to come with me, it just doesn’t make sense,” Max said. “I mean, what are we doing together if all you do is work?”
“There’s nothing I’d love more than to come with you,” Iris sighed, relieved to think that he wanted her along, frustrated to know that there was no way in hell she could go. Now that she was officially though not yet legally separated, she could come and go as she pleased. She had no family, and no obligations. The only thing holding her back from living the life she dreamed of was her job. Which was not exactly a minor detail.
“But what about my job?” she said.
“Take a leave of absence,” Max said. “Or say you’re having a nervous breakdown like you did the last time, only make it worse.”
Iris was still ashamed of the lie she had used to secure permission to travel to Stromboli, even though Gregorio was the only one to see the medical certificate. She had immediately regretted confiding the details of her scheme to Max, who had laughed and complimented her on her knack for deception, making her feel even more of a despicable cheat. She could forget about Gregorio or his colleagues helping her out this time, or ever again. Besides, there was no way she could take a leave of absence. The hotel needed a manager; surely Max could understand that.
Max turned on his side to face her; propping himself on an elbow, he looked her in the eye and said, “Better yet: Quit.”
“Quit?” Iris stared at him wide-eyed, wondering whether she had heard right. Could he be offering to support her? This was starting to sound like a serious proposal.
“Why not? And while you’re at it, sue them,” he said.
“Sue who?” Now she was confused.
“Those bastards you work for. Wake up, Capo! You’re in Italy, remember? People don’t walk away from their jobs without squeezing a little extra out of their employers, just like they don’t vacate rented apartments until they get a payoff from their landlords.”
“But I have no grounds for suing anyone,” Iris said.
“I can think of plenty, and that’s only based on the things you tell me. You’re underpaid for the hours you put in, first of all. And that old bitch Mangiagallo and her fucked-up fag son are always on your case. Union reps and labor lawyers call that harassment.”
“I accepted the job, Max,” she said. “And the pay. I signed a contract, and it’s my own fault if I don’t have the guts to ask for a raise. And if I stay until late to make sure everything is running smoothly, it’s because that is my responsibility.”
Max rolled his eyes and snorted. “So in the end, when it comes right down to it, you’re no different from everybody else.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean, is that you sound like all those other poor slobs chained to jobs they hate, who start drooling with envy whenever they meet someone with the balls to live life for real, like me. None of them actually want a different life, or they’d do something to make it happen. All they want is that pathetic little desk. That monthly paycheck. That paid vacation every August. That death by boredom.”
“That’s not what I want!”
“Are you so sure? Sounds to me like you’re looking for excuses. Why should you give a shit about the Mangiagallos, when all they’re worried about is sucking your blood.”
“Part of me feels sorry for them. They may be rich, but they’re miserable. No money can solve the problems they have.” Despite Gregorio’s reiterated opinions to the contrary, Iris knew that duty and loyalty were fundamental to her character, and she also knew that sometimes people took advantage of that. That was just how she was, how she had been raised: to get the job done, and do it well. And be grateful if anyone remembered to say thank you. But maybe Max was right about one thing. Maybe forty years of doing what was asked of her was enough; maybe now was the time for her to start doing some of the asking herself.
“But what about the apartment? I’d still have to pay the rent,” Iris said. Unless of course Max was thinking of giving up his place in Rome and officially moving in with her. He’d certainly help cover the expenses if he were living there.
“If you quit, you’ll g
et severance pay, right? That should hold you over for a good six months. Of course, if you were a normal person, with an ex-husband like yours making a shitload of money, you’d be getting a nice fat alimony check every month.”
Iris pulled herself up in bed to relieve the tightness in her chest. They had already discussed this topic more than once, and always at Max’s insistence, but Iris would not change her mind. She simply did not see why Gregorio should support her if she could take care of herself. There were no children involved, and he had already agreed to buy out her share of their apartment in the jointly-owned Leale villa, even though Iris had not made a cash contribution to its purchase. Gregorio was a fair man, and she knew he would want to give her the money, even if it hadn’t been required of him by community property laws. She did not want to use those funds to live on, though; the money would be her little nest-egg, her safety net in case of an emergency.
She hadn’t told Max yet, but she had earmarked a portion of that money to take him on vacation to America. She was planning to take him to New York City, then maybe even out to California, but first they would stop and visit her family. Iris was still filled with remorse for not having gone at Christmas, but since she had rushed home for Henry’s funeral just weeks before, a holiday visit just wasn’t feasible. She cringed at the painful memory of the last Christmas dinner she had prepared for the Leales, while her heart ached for her real family across the ocean, and for poor Max down in Rome, with no family of his own.
Violet and Marguerite and Jasmine had been pumping her for information about Max ever since calling to wish her a happy birthday the day she ran away from home, and finding her in a dreadful state. Her three older sisters were sworn to secrecy, and no one else knew about her separation, not even Lily. It wasn’t so much that Iris had decided to keep it from Lily, but Lily never wrote, Lily never called, Lily never asked. As for the rest of the family, Iris didn’t feel equipped to deal with them yet, and hiding her whereabouts from them was relatively simple now that all communication was via cell phone or email. She planned on breaking the news just before going there with Max. Once they met him in person, and discovered what a talented, exciting man he was, it would be easier for them to understand her decision. Gregorio had never really hit it off with her family, anyway. In fact, it became quite clear early in their marriage that the very things that had fascinated him about her larger-than-life clan, had soon begun to repulse him. He had been lured out of his den of order and propriety long enough to snatch her up, but in the end, that was where he wanted to stay. Though he never said as much, she knew he considered her family’s vivacity vulgar, their unbridled emotions uncouth, their forthrightness unsettling. After their first few visits together, he had stopped accompanying Iris unless the trip coincided with a medical conference or convention to which he could rush off after a day or so.
With Max it would be different. He had always wished for a large family, but had grown up an only child, and an orphan. Max knew how to adapt to any situation, and even if he didn’t speak much English, his personality would make up for the vocabulary he lacked. Auntie Rosa would be able to understand him, though, and she would certainly be touched by the tragic story of his parents, having experienced traumas of her own. Perhaps she would be so moved that she would even forgive Iris for walking out on a perfectly good doctor husband. Iris was pretty sure Max and her mother would find some common ground, too. Max was not your typical Italian, and Betty Capotosti was not your typical mother. As soon as there was a break in Max’s busy schedule, she would make plans.
“Did you hear what I said, Capo?” Max said.
“What?” She blinked.
“Christ, I could tell by that look in your eyes you were on another planet. Earth to Iris, Earth to Iris: We were talking about your divorce settlement.”
“I’ve already told you how I feel about taking money from Gregorio, Max,” Iris said. “He offered to help. He said that unlike me, he respects his marital duty. But why should he pay alimony when I’m perfectly able to work? I would feel guilty taking his money, in addition to ruining his life. After all, I’m the one who left him.”
“He’ll get over it. And it’s not about how you feel, it’s about what you deserve. So screw the guilt trip and pay a good lawyer. You have to learn to demand more for yourself, Capo, or you’ll never get it.”
“Please, Max. Can’t we talk about something else?” Iris was perfectly aware that she was not as wise to the ways of the world as she should be; Gregorio had kept her wrapped in a cocoon for her entire adult life, and now she had a good deal of growing up to do. But she just wasn’t a grabber; she never had been, and never would be. Besides, Iris hated being told she should change, even though Max and Bea repeated over and over again that change was necessary for personal evolution.
“Suit yourself. But if you’re so hell-bent on wanting to work, you can work with me, like you did in Stromboli. Only this time it would be on a bigger scale. I have approval for a crew of four; if you come, I’d be willing to do without Alicia, but you’d have to give me a hand. You won’t get paid for that, but your expenses would be covered, and I can find a way for you to earn some money on the side. You could help the program author write the copy, maybe even narrate the pieces. They got all these speakers imitating American accents, but with you they’d get the real thing. Maybe we could even do a voice-over in English. We could say we’re gonna sell the program abroad, even if we never do.”
“Are you serious? You could get me a job in TV?”
Max must really want her to be with him, if he would go to the trouble of creating a job for her. It didn’t exactly sound like steady work, but if it could provide her with a way to prove to him how serious she was about wanting to change her lifestyle and still allow her to pay the rent without running through her savings, maybe it was worth a try.
“You have no idea how many people live off Mamma RAI, Capo. All the guys bring in their wives or girlfriends or kids under some guise. That asshole director doesn’t know shit about filmmaking. I’ve got him by the balls, he’ll do whatever I say. And don’t forget about my film project. We can definitely start working on that together. That is, if you believe in me. If you’re behind me in this. Because if you’re not, you’d better speak up now.”
“Of course I’m behind you!” She did not doubt Max’s talent or ambition in the least. Iris had always felt the reason the project couldn’t seem to get off the ground was because he was surrounded by the wrong people: envious cutthroats who wanted nothing more than to see him fail; smooth operators who sniffed around to see what was in it for them before committing. Not to mention the coke-snorting bimbos distracting him all the time, using him for his connections. She had seen them all, and wondered how he managed to develop even a fraction of his potential in such a negative environment. Max was an artist, and everyone knew artists were easily led astray. He needed someone like her to keep him focused, to deal with practical concerns so he would be free to concentrate on his creativity.
“Well, now’s your chance to prove it,” Max said. “You’re smart, and you speak English, so I’m gonna be needing you to make some calls for me, make some contacts. Meanwhile, you’ll have the best summer of your life, you’ll see.”
“But what about next fall? What will I do then?” Iris said, before she could stop herself. She hated sounding so insecure. Honestly, what was the worst thing that could happen? That she’d have to find another job?
“We could be dead next fall.” Max fingered her tangled curls, ran his hand delicately over her face, down her neck, to her breasts and tummy. His touch sent a shiver through her. “This summer won’t come back, Capo. You don’t have forever. We don’t have forever.”
Max was right. She had spent far too much time worrying about the future in her previous life. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she could hear her mother whisper in her ear. As for the bridges behind her, what good was burning them if she just stood on the ri
verbank staring at the smoldering ashes, instead of moving on? Really moving on.
“Maybe I have wasted too much time. Maybe I should start living for today,” she said. Her insides fluttered crazily as scores of butterflies took flight, performing loops and spins and figure eights in her tummy. She was past forty; now was the time to dare, not when she was fifty, or sixty, or dead.
“Let’s do it!” she said, her heart racing, her hands clapping with such enthusiasm the bed bounced.
“That’s what I wanted to hear!” Max said, smiling that smirk of his. “What have you got to eat around here? I’m starving.”
“Don’t worry, Auntie Rosa, of course I’ll be careful!” Her aunt always gave her the same advice every time they spoke, as if Iris were a victim in search of an accident. If she knew what her little Iris had been up to lately, she’d realize that careful was a thing of the past. Sooner or later, the time would come for them to talk about that, too, but for now she replied, “You be careful, too!”
[Iris and Lily 01.0 - 03.0] The Complete Series Page 122
