Carissima

by Rosanna Chiofalo

  The cabbie pulls up in front of Gregory’s house and my pulse starts racing. I pay my taxi fare and get out. I quickly make my way up the steps leading to Gregory’s door before I can change my mind and hightail it out of there. I ring the bell several times, but there’s no answer. Turning around to leave, I suddenly remember that when Gregory is painting he plays his music really loud and often doesn’t hear his bell. I try his cell. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey!” Gregory sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m so glad you called.”

  “Actually, I’m downstairs. You didn’t hear the bell ring.”

  I hear music, followed by a voice in the background. Gregory calls out to the person, “Hold on a sec!”

  “Is this a bad time? Sorry. I should’ve called before coming over.”

  “No, no. I have company, but she was about to leave.”

  “She?” I can’t help myself, and I know Gregory can hear the jealousy in my tone.

  “Ahhh. It’s just Madeline. She’s finishing up my interview for the Profile piece. But you can come up.”

  All I want to do now is leave, but I can’t. Partly because I’m trying to act like I’m cool with a former Eastern European supermodel spending time alone with my boyfriend, and partly because I want to see for myself that everything is fine. Crazy! I know Gregory would never cheat on me, but still. I can’t ignore this recent insecurity I’ve been feeling either.

  “Okay, if you’re sure I’m not interrupting.”

  “Nah! I’ll be right down to let you in.”

  We hang up. It feels like an eternity until Gregory finally makes his way to the door. I can see through the glass, he’s pulling on his T-shirt. Granted, he rarely wears a shirt when he’s home and painting, but how can he be shirtless in front of Madeline? I mentally tell myself to calm down and not explode.

  “Hi!” Gregory is smiling from ear to ear, much like a schoolboy who’s in love with his teacher. He leans over and kisses me on—the cheek? But then he holds me close to him once I step inside.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve been going crazy this week. I’m so sorry about everything.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I ruined your big night.” I hug Gregory back.

  “You didn’t ruin it! Stop!” Gregory is doing a good job of acting like his night was still perfect, but his voice sounds a bit forced.

  “I was just hurt that you broke your promise to me about not showing my painting to anyone. I guess I overreacted.”

  Gregory tilts my chin upward so that my gaze meets his.

  “Pia, I’m really sorry I broke my promise to you. I don’t know what came over me. Well, I guess I do. I let all this craziness with getting discovered go to my head.”

  “I would’ve probably acted the same way.”

  “No, I don’t think you would’ve. You’re just saying that to make me feel better. And I love you for it.” Gregory pulls me close to him once again.

  “You had pretty much no choice, Gregory. Nathan Horowitz wouldn’t have given you the show without my portrait.”

  “He said that, but in retrospect, I think he was bluffing because he wanted that painting in the exhibit. I didn’t try hard enough to protest about your painting being unavailable.”

  “So what did everyone think of it?”

  “They loved it! Are you kidding me? It got the most buzz of all the paintings in the exhibit. I wish you had been there to see how excited everyone was.”

  “I don’t know about that. They would’ve recognized me as the subject, and I would’ve felt naked.” I laugh.

  “Gregory!”

  Madeline’s shrill voice rings out. Soon, her rail-thin body is coming down the stairs with precise, calculated movements. It’s as if she’s doing a fashion show and the staircase is the catwalk. Does she ever walk as if she’s not strutting down a runway?

  “Sorry, Madeline, Pia and I needed to talk.”

  “Hello, Pia.”

  “Madeline.” I nod my head.

  “You left the show early last week. Did you have somewhere else to be?” Madeline’s lips turn up slightly. She’s absolutely sneering at me.

  “I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I need to be going, Gregory. I’ll come back with Anton for the photo shoot.”

  “Photo shoot?” I ask.

  “For the Profile interview Madeline’s doing,” Gregory explains.

  “I’m sure Anton can handle that by himself. I mean, it’s not like you have photography expertise as well, do you, Madeline?” Now I’m the one who’s sneering.

  “I need to direct Anton to ensure the photos go with the theme of the article. When I write a piece, I oversee every aspect of it. Nothing gets overlooked. But you are still learning. I wouldn’t expect you to know that.” Barely showing her teeth, Madeline smiles. She walks over to Gregory and kisses him on both cheeks even though his arms are still wrapped around my waist. She doesn’t seem to care that she interrupted us.

  “I’ll call you as soon as Anton lets me know when his schedule will allow for him to come over.”

  “Thanks, Madeline.” Gregory breaks our embrace and opens the door for Madeline. Before she steps out, he leans forward and kisses her on both cheeks. Madeline snakes her arm around his waist and hugs him briefly. She doesn’t even say good-bye to me. I want to run over and give her bony butt a good kick that will send her careening down the stairs.

  “Whoa, Pia! You need to cool it with Madeline. The tension between the two of you is so palpable,” Gregory says after he shuts the door.

  “Why do I need to cool it? She started by asking me why I left the show early and then giving me a little ‘hmmm’ when I told her I wasn’t feeling well. She obviously didn’t believe me.”

  “Well, you were lying.”

  “I wasn’t lying. I really wasn’t feeling well. My boyfriend admits that he broke a promise to me as well as my trust in him. How do you think I felt? Great? You want me to tell her our personal problems, Gregory? Or maybe you have already and that’s why she didn’t believe me. She already knew the truth from you!”

  Gregory remains silent, but he’s staring at me. After a few more seconds elapse, he finally says, “I thought we just made up. But I can see this is still raw for you.”

  “Sorry. I do forgive you. I just don’t like Madeline.”

  “Pia, you hardly even know her. It’s natural that the two of you have some professional rivalry, but I think if you both put that aside and realized you’re on the same team, you’d get along better.”

  “Why is it you’re always defending these women to me? First, it was Francesca; now it’s Madeline. Can’t you see women like them take pleasure out of chewing people up and spitting them out? They act like they’re super-confident women when they’re really insecure. That’s why they have to knock everyone else down around them—except for the people they want something out of, like you.”

  “Oh, so now you’re saying I’m being used?” Gregory breathes an exasperated sigh.

  “Sort of. Actually, yes, if I may be frank.”

  “Pia, stop!”

  “Gregory, I know this is hard to hear, but Francesca used you by convincing you to paint her portrait because she wanted you for the job. You didn’t even want to paint her initially, but we both agreed she played on your guilt and your family’s long relationship with her. And now Madeline is using you to write her article.”

  “I said stop!” Gregory is shouting now. I’ve never seen him so mad. I turn around so he doesn’t see my tears.

  “I’m sorry I shouted. But Pia, you’re not making sense. Madeline is just doing her job. She’s an editor at Profile. Don’t you think it would sound bizarre to you if I accused you of using Francesca so you could get your interview?”

  “Okay, okay.” I hold up my hands in resignation, but I’m not about to give up. “You’ve got a point there. But I know Madeline is up to something
. I can feel it. She wants more from you than a great interview.”

  Gregory shakes his head, still not believing me. I’m saved by the ring of my cell phone. The screen flashes “Lorenzo.” My heart drops to my belly.

  “Sorry, Gregory. Let me just get this really quick.”

  I don’t know why I don’t let Lorenzo’s call go to voice mail. Maybe because it’ll buy me a couple of minutes to get myself out of this messy conversation I started with Gregory.

  “Hello.”

  “Pia, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have some bad news.”

  “What’s the matter? Is it your mother?”

  “Yes. She passed away early this morning.”

  “Oh, Lorenzo! I’m so sorry!”

  Gregory quickly glances up at me when he hears Lorenzo’s name. My sadness over hearing the news of Signora Tesca’s death made me forget not to say Lorenzo’s name aloud. Then again, why do I feel I have to hide the fact that I’m talking to him? We’re friends. Nothing more. Yeah, except for that kiss we shared the other night. I can feel my face warming up.

  “Pia, Francesca wanted me to call you to ask you to let the neighbors who were my mother’s friends know. We’re going to have a wake for her, but I can’t disclose yet where it will be for security reasons. We want to try and fend off the paparazzi. When I know more of the details, I’ll call you. My mother left behind a letter, saying that she wants to be buried next to my father in Rome. So after the wake, we’ll be transporting her body to Italy. The wake will be the only chance her friends will have to say good-bye to her.”

  Lorenzo utters the last sentence very quietly. I can tell he’s struggling to keep it together.

  “Of course, I’ll let the neighbors know. I’ll do it as discreetly as possible, and I will ask them not to say anything. But I can’t promise the news won’t leak. People have a way of talking.”

  “Yes, yes. Francesca and I are aware of this. As I said, we’ll do our best to minimize the media frenzy, but if the paparazzi find out where the wake will be held and follow us, then so be it. We felt it was more important that her friends have the opportunity to see her one last time.”

  “I understand. I’m so sorry, Lorenzo. Please give Francesca my condolences. I’ll see you both at the wake.”

  “Thank you, Pia. I will call you when the plans are finalized.”

  “Okay. Good-bye, Lorenzo.”

  I hang up the phone. Gregory is standing right behind me. His eyes look grave.

  “Signora Tesca died.” He’s heard enough to know it’s a certainty rather than a question.

  “Earlier this morning. Her son and Francesca are going to bring her body back to Italy. Signora Tesca wanted to be buried in Rome, beside her husband’s grave.”

  “I guess Lorenzo got your number from Francesca?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I guess. He said that Francesca wants me to let the neighbors know so they can attend her wake. They’re going to have it here, but they need to iron out the security details first. They want to try and avoid having the media find out, to prevent a circus outside the funeral home. Once he knows more, he’ll call me.”

  I can’t believe I’ve just lied to Gregory about Lorenzo’s getting my number from Francesca. There’s no excuse, but I’ve never done well with awkward situations that arise spontaneously. Then again, don’t most awkward situations occur spontaneously? I look at Gregory and force a small smile. He’s staring intently at me.

  “Please let me know where the wake will be. I’d like to attend and pay my respects.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll pick up you and your aunt, and we can head over to the funeral together. That is, if you want.”

  “Sure. That would be fine.”

  “I’m sorry, Pia, but I need to get back to work.”

  “I thought you were going to have a bit of a break before your next show?”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too, but since my first show was such a success, Nate has moved up the date of my second exhibit. Apparently, he already has a list of anxious buyers for my new paintings even though they haven’t seen them yet.”

  “All right, I’ll leave then.” I can’t hide my disappointment as I walk to the front door. I never even made it past the foyer, and now I’m going home.

  “Pia, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep.”

  “Ouch! You’re never going to let me forget about letting Nate show your portrait at my show, are you?”

  “It . . . it just came out of my mouth. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No, you were thinking. Your subconscious made you choose exactly those words. Come here. Let’s talk some more.” Gregory pulls me by the hand and leads me to the staircase. We sit down on the bottom step.

  “Lay it all on me—even your anger.”

  “It’s no longer about the portrait. I have forgiven you over that.”

  “Then what’s it about?”

  “I just thought you were going to have more time for me after the first show. It’s been hard not seeing you much.”

  “I know. I know. It’s been hard on me, too, but this is the sacrifice I need to make, especially right now when I’m at the start of my career. You’ll understand when you get your big break.”

  “I do understand. But I can’t help wondering if this is going to be the norm for you from now on. I’m afraid that whenever you’re busy, work is all you will do. It seems like you have a hard time balancing your personal life with your professional. I don’t want to be with someone who’s married to his work.”

  “So you’re saying you see a future with me?”

  Oh, geez! What did I just imply? I didn’t want to be the first one to bring up the subject of our future. But I can’t shy away from it now.

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve never been that much of a workaholic. I enjoy more in life than just painting. I will make the time for you. How about we have a special date next Saturday night? You’re right. I have been neglecting you.”

  “I didn’t say that, Gregory.”

  “You didn’t have to actually say the words. It’s crazy that I haven’t even made time for you on the weekends since all this started.”

  “Gregory, I do want you to succeed.”

  “I’m so lucky to have you, Pia.” Gregory picks up my hand and kisses the back of it and continues to hold it as he stares into my eyes.

  “And I’m lucky to have you.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb.

  “Pia, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Francesca.”

  “What about her?”

  “Are you almost done with the article?”

  “Yes, I just have one more interview left, but I’ve already written most of the first draft.”

  “Pia, I think you’ve been too focused on this project. Are you learning other valuable skills at least when you’re in Profile’s offices?”

  “What’s going on, Gregory? You know I wasn’t learning much there besides proofreading. This is Madeline talking, isn’t it? What has she been saying to you?”

  “Again with Madeline! Geez, drop it already, Pia!”

  “Not until you tell me what this conversation is about!”

  “I just don’t want you to put all of your eggs into one basket. What if Colin doesn’t like the article and decides not to publish it? I don’t want you getting your hopes up and then being crushed. I think you should see if you can write or edit other articles. Maybe you can help Madeline edit the piece she’s doing on me.”

  “Are you out of your mind? There’s no way I’m working with her so she can lord it over me! Why did you even say yes to doing the interview with her?”

  “You’re being irrational, Pia. How was I supposed to know you didn’t like her when Nate introduced us? How could I turn down media coverage of my show and a story on me when I’ve just been discovered? In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t think of it, since you are interni
ng at Profile.”

  “So that’s what this is about. You’re annoyed that I didn’t suggest interviewing you myself, and you think it’s because I’ve been too focused on Francesca.”

  “You have been too focused on her.”

  “And you’ve been too focused on yourself and your new rise to fame.”

  “That’s not fair, Pia, and you know it.”

  “You’ve been different ever since Nate discovered you. You even let them dress you for your show! You’re their puppet on a string. Don’t you see that?”

  “And you haven’t been Francesca’s puppet?”

  Sighing deeply, I get up and walk to the front door.

  “So you’re going to storm off again?”

  “Good-bye, Gregory. I think we both need to cool down before we say something we’ll regret.”

  “I think it’s too late for that. But fine. Whatever.” Gregory runs his hands through his hair and storms upstairs.

  And with that, I make my exit, making certain to slam the door.

  Signora Tesca’s wake is held two days after she died. Though I got into an argument with Gregory, he still insists on picking up Zia and me. Zia walks in between us as we make our way up the block to the Mussolini Mansion. It’s the longest walk of my life. Neither Gregory nor I say anything, and Zia keeps looking from one to the other of us. But she also doesn’t make any attempt at small talk to break the ice.

  All of the neighbors are meeting inside Signora Tesca’s house. Francesca’s security team is too paranoid about giving out the name and location of the funeral home. They’ve rented a couple of SUVs to transport us. Lorenzo told me they were going to have decoy SUVs to throw the paparazzi off the trail. I pray it works. Signora Tesca deserves to have a peaceful wake, and I know it means a lot to Francesca. Lorenzo confided in me that she’d felt guilty about the crowds outside of the Mussolini Mansion ever since her arrival.

  I can’t help feeling extremely bad for Lorenzo. I called him before he contacted me with the wake arrangements. We talked for almost an hour as he told me stories from his childhood in Rome and about his mother. It sounded like he had a lonely childhood. What a shame that Francesca and Signora Tesca hadn’t been talking all those years. He could have had his aunt at least. Neither of us brought up the kiss from the night of Gregory’s show.