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“Just water, huh, Stefani? On your birthday?”
“I told you, fratello, I feel like shit. Starting today, I’m officially old.” I was still the youngest of the three of us.
Mustafa laughed and punched me in the shoulder.
“What are you talking about, man. My life didn’t even start until I was thirty.”
“Really?” I mocked him back. We all know what happened. “I thought your life started in ’74 when we swore brotherhood, but now you are telling me it didn’t matter? You didn’t feel alive until you were thirty-one and started to bang Gino’s minor little sister?”
“Talk about Catherinelle and banging again and I’ll show you how actual pain feels, brother.” His tone was still light, but I knew better. He would even take Gino on for Catherinelle. “You two motherfuckers are ok, but that girl changed my life. My wife. I still can’t believe we’re married.”
Gino didn’t say anything, but he nodded. He knew exactly how Hugo was feeling even if he was close to his third anniversary. Fuck, I knew it too. That unbelievable feeling one gets when the woman he loves – a woman that seems so perfect, she’s almost a piece of fiction – agrees to be his. It makes you feel powerful and proud. It’s highly addictive. I only got to enjoy that for six days before my piece of fiction bailed on me and disappeared from the face of the earth.
I shook my head, trying to make her memory fade and hoping no one saw it.
“I think you’re right Mustafa,” I said, looking away at the water. “Maybe life really starts after thirty. I think I want to start living mine.” This got their attention, especially Gino’s, who straightened his back in his chair.
“What are you saying, Roman?”
Before I got to answer, the nice, red-haired waitress came back with another girl and put a lot of food on our table. I reached for one of the antipasti platters and popped a Manzanilla olive in my mouth, waiting for the wait staff to leave before speaking.
“I’m saying that it’s time to get purged.” There was no need to elaborate. They knew exactly what I was talking about. They were the only two people in my life that actually met Salva and they understood.
A peaceful silence fell over our table and the other two men looked content with my news. Fuck, they’ve been waiting for this moment for years, but no one said it and I knew why. After Salvatrice left, I was a wreck for months. I don’t remember having one meal that wasn’t soaked in booze. I couldn’t sleep without her. I refused to leave the rented apartment the two of us shared in Morningside Heights. She’d loved that place. It was a crammed one-bedroom with an open concept kitchen that was the size of Max’s bed, but I’d had to settle for that because my stubborn woman insisted on sharing the rent. She obviously couldn’t have afforded the places I’d had in mind and at that time I was keeping a low profile. We’d shared one bedroom, the other was converted into a study office that I used, and we had morning coffee together every day in that blue-tiled kitchen. I’d loved it too. It was five minutes away from Columbia and the coffee shop Salva worked at, but I didn’t give a shit about the location. I’d loved it because it was ours. When she’d left, I’d thought that maybe those walls imprisoned a little part of her and I was desperate to get close to that.
When Gino and Hugo had had enough of my depression, they came to collect whatever was left of me; things went south really fast. I don’t remember what Gino said about Salvatrice -I was wasted - but I do remember he called her a ‘fuckingbitch’. That threw me over the edge and I hit him. My fist had connected with his face so fast, none of us had the time to register what happened before it was too late. He forgave my offence, but Salva’s name rarely came up ever since. She was my devil to battle and it looked like I was getting closer to winning the war.
“I’m gonna go away for the summer,” I told them. “I need some time away to clear my head.”
“Why now?” Gino pushed.
“Because look around me, boss.” I pointed to them both. “Life is moving on and I’m still chained down. Hugo got married, which is basically a miracle, and you have a son. God is my witness that I love that kid and I’m happy for you two, but I have an awful taste in my mouth and it has nothing to do with this raging hangover that’s riding me. I’m sick and tired of feeling empty, so maybe it’s time to let go of the missing part of me.” The biggest part of me.
All I got from Gino was a silent nod, but Hugo spoke up.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“I need to piece myself together. Where do you think I’m going? Italy.”
Gino wasn’t surprised by my answer.
“Should I tell my grandfather to prepare his guestroom for you?”
“Nah, I’m going to Portofino. I rented a villa outside the city for a couple of months. I figure the sea breeze will do me some good. I get to spend some time in a secluded corner, do some reading, and enjoy Genova when I need some big city entertainment. I will be calling in once a week to check in with the business and coordinate with our associates in Napoli and Roma while I’m there, and I will be ready to fly back the moment you need me. Try to stay out of trouble, ok? No jail, no FBI investigations. I need this time off.”
We laughed it off and that’s how the girls found us when they came back. Enzo was asleep in his stroller, sucking on his thumb, probably dreaming about his last meal. Maximus came to sit next to my feet the moment Cat let go of the leash. Now that they were there, Gino rose to his feet, kissed his wife, popped the bottle of champagne, and filled some flutes.
“A toast,” he said. “To my sister and all the great things she’ll accomplish. The world is not ready for you, Cat.” I didn’t miss when he stopped for a beat and looked at me. “And to new beginnings.”
New beginnings. Well, that was a lot to ask for.
“Salut!”
