25. MAGDALEN
25
MAGDALEN
Smoothing down my dress, I take a deep breath and step into the buffet room. The inside of Imbarco Perosino is dimly lit by candelabras scattered throughout the small space and, while beautiful, it’s almost impossible to see where you’re going. In the centre of the space are the two oak tables draped in heavy tablecloths with silver platters of food. But my eyes barely glance at the dishes. I brush past the couple in front of me, squinting to make out which one he is, but their uniforms are all the same. I clear my throat. He left, which is understandable. I shouldn’t have expected him to wait for me when he’s clearly working. Walking towards the table, I pick up a plate and stare at the food without really seeing anything. My hand extends to the serving spoon when I feel someone tap my shoulder.
‘I told you to wait for me,’ a deep voice startles me. ‘I can get you the good stuff.’ Spinning on my heel, I see Roberto standing with his hands clasped behind his back, one eyebrow raised as he eyes the empty plate.
Setting the plate down, I turn to face him and we both look at one another for a moment, before laughing in unison.
‘I looked for you!’ I squeal, not recognizing the high tone of my voice, of this girl who sneaks off to look for boys while at a family dinner.
‘What? For three minutes? I had to restock the napkins in the back.’ He continues smiling, humour clear in his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t ditch you, Mags.’
‘But, the food—’
‘Ah, I should have known. You only haven’t seen me in, what, two years? But the food, yes. The food is obviously more important.’
‘Are you done, Roberto?’
‘Are you going to give me the hug I’ve been waiting for since I heard you were back?’
I sigh, feeling glad for Roberto Almeno, the only boy from secondary school I ever spoke to. He was a theatre kid with the voice of a young Ezio Pinza who biked to the tennis club almost every day after school. We didn’t talk much, but we saw each other enough for me to almost feel comfortable around him.
Lifting my hands up, I stand with open arms waiting for Roberto to hug me.
‘Finally,’ Roberto grins as he scoops me into his arms, my legs dangling off the ground for a moment as he squeezes me tightly.
But as he sets me down, another voice interrupts behind us. My heart sinks. I hate how aware I am of Theo’s presence. Roberto laughs about something but I can’t hear anything, my mind only on Theo standing behind me. When I turn around, pretending to focus on a napkin that has fallen, I look up to see him at the far end of the buffet table. He says something to Dante but stares at me with an empty plate in his hand. I smile. What else should I do? He sighs, looking down at his empty plate for a long moment before looking back up and returning a lopsided grin. It isn’t a smile with any particular layers. I remind myself that he is not jealous or even mildly interested in my conversation with Roberto, because we’re just friends . He was curious for a moment and then his curiosity was satisfied. This is what friends do. We smile, we acknowledge, and we move on.
‘Would you want to?’ Roberto asks.
Embarrassed that I’ve not heard a single thing he’s said, I nod my head quickly without knowing what I’m agreeing to. How is this possible? Just moments before, I was seeking Roberto out. And now a weird emptiness carves itself through me, painfully. Like someone is taking a blunt knife and tracing the ridges of my ribs over and over. I want Theo to care. A stupid fantasy for girls who read too many romance novels.
‘How about Thursday night? I can come to Castagneto Po? Haven’t been there in ages. Does that little cafe still exist down the hill?’ He motions a hill with his hand, making big and obnoxious gestures to visualize the cafe. I already wish I never hugged him.
I laugh even though nothing is funny. ‘Yes, it’s still there.’
‘Good.’ He fidgets with the strap of his apron. ‘I’ll meet you there Thursday.’
‘Okay.’ I try to smile. Overcome with the dreaded revelation at how much I want Theo to care.
‘Nine, okay?’
We step to the side as Dante reaches for a crab leg, oblivious it’s me in front of him.
‘That’s perfect.’ The words feel stiff and inauthentic, but Roberto doesn’t seem to notice. My mother used to tell me to think of a remote controller when I felt like crying. She would say to imagine your finger pressing down on the fast-forward button to skip past this sadness and pause on another feeling. You can go back, she would say. But you can also go forward.
‘Duty calls, I’m afraid. Crab legs need serving.’ Roberto squeezes my shoulder and turns back towards the kitchen.
I’m aware of the muscles on my face and how if I press my teeth together and raise the corners of my mouth it could pass as a smile. I look around to see members of my family scattered about the open restaurant. Jo looks disgusted as he picks up a piece of bloody lamb with the tongs. Anika chats away in his ear about something he couldn’t care less about. Lucia fixes Maio’s plate for him even though he is standing next to her. Dante speaks to a female waitress with a huge grin on his face. Her back is to me, so I’m unsure if she reciprocates.
‘Not a fan of crab legs?’
I turn my head to see Theo on the opposite side of the table looking at my empty plate. The tightness in my throat is so intense that I have to think about breathing in order to get air inside my lungs.
‘Um, actually, no.’ I try to ground myself. ‘Never been one for crustaceans.’
‘Then you’re probably in the wrong section.’
I look down to see that I’ve been standing in front of the shellfish this whole time.
‘Right,’ I start to turn. ‘Guess this sun is getting to my head.’
‘We can’t have that. Your brain is worth at least sixty thousand.’
‘My brain is far from precious. I’m an English major.’
‘Agree to disagree,’ he says roughly while shovelling some prawns onto his plate.
Staring at the pink prawns with blurry eyes, I know I have to get away from him. ‘Guess I better find a table without sea creatures, then.’
Just as I turn away, I hear his deep voice. ‘So who was the guy with the apron?’
My back stiffens and I decide to pretend I didn’t hear him as I walk to the other table. It’s better this way. To pretend. Fingers gripping the ceramic so tightly my joints lock in place.
Dinner drones on. It’s been over three hours, and no one looks particularly eager to leave.
‘Theo, you’ve never had a responsibility in your life. Don’t try to weigh in on something you have no idea about.’
My eyes shoot up to see Dexter, eyes bloodshot and ugly, waving a hand away at Theo. When he lifts his arm, his shirt is soaked in sweat.
‘Nice one, Papa. Very clever.’
I try to make eye contact with Theo, to let him know that I recognize Dexter’s absurdity, but he’s focused only on his father.
‘Tell me it’s not true! I mean who got you the job at the museum in New York, hmm? And the internship in Greece before that? Once you understand real life, I’m all ears to your suggestions.’
Papa sighs, as if accustomed to this, and it strikes a nerve in me, his passive acceptance. It feels like his responsibility to interfere, and maybe I secretly believe it’s always a father’s job to intervene. But as I look around, everyone watches in silence. Vittoria, smoothing out perfectly folded napkins. Dante, playing with the stem of his wine glass. I want to rip the tablecloth off and scream while Anika clears her throat and looks towards the river. You always have something to say! Why are you letting him talk to your brother like that? But I realize that Anika’s loudness doesn’t necessarily equate to her bravery. My hands tingle with the intense desire to slap her. To shout: LIAR .
‘I don’t think you want to talk about real life,’ Theo says, his voice low and controlled.
Dexter’s eyes dart towards Papa and then he sighs dramatically. ‘Aren’t you tired of being the poor, broken boy who hates his father? I thought you were smart enough to not be such a fucking cliché.’
‘I once thought you were smart, but it looks like we were both fucking wrong.’
‘Oh god, here we go again. Why don’t you leave if you hate us so much, Theo? Go. No one’s missed your dramatics. We were just fine without all this.’
Cinzia clutches her napkin but remains quiet, letting Dexter continue.
‘I’m not fucking here for you,’ Theo spits out.
‘Of course you’re not. God forbid I forget for one fucking second that I’m the worst father on this planet.’
Theo sighs. Reaching over to take the wine bottle on the table, he pours what’s left into his glass. ‘Just wondering, you do realize that the entire restaurant has stopped talking to watch you slobber all over yourself, right?’
Dexter sniffs and runs his hand over his face roughly, as if trying to break out of a spell. Is he high? My blood chills.
‘Ah, fuck off.’ He leans back in his chair, looking annoyingly adolescent. He waves his hand like he’s stranded, waving SOS to a passing waiter. ‘Can we get the bill?’
Anika clears her throat in the thick silence. ‘So, um, well, this was supposed to be the grand surprise for Lucia and Maio,’ she says quietly, ‘but Mamma and I booked a trip to Alassio next weekend for a celebration before the wedding.’ Her voice is unnaturally high as she tries to pull out some measure of happiness. ‘Just the kids,’ she adds, her eyes looking towards her father. He looks sweaty and disoriented, patting his breast pocket in search of his reading glasses. He’s so old he can’t see the things right in front of him, I think. He can’t even see Theo.
‘Oh, Anika. That’s wonderful!’ Lucia throws her hands around Maio and kisses him hard on the cheek. ‘This is exactly what we need!’
Maio blushes and leans into her kiss. ‘That’s really sweet. Thank you, Anika,’ he agrees demurely.
‘Oh please.’ Anika waves her hand to dodge the compliments away. ‘It’s not like I did it just for you. I get a vacation, too.’
Her joke falls flat as everyone keeps looking at Dexter, now squinting at the bill.
‘Anika, my god, woman, you’ve finally done something right.’ Dante raises his hand in mock prayer.
‘Never speak to me.’
‘Okay, baby girl.’ He stands up, stretching to look around at the families that sit nearby. After lingering too long on a child in a highchair, he shudders. ‘I mean, fuck, we’re already in Torino. Anyone down to keep this going somewhere with a little more je ne sais quoi ?’
Papa walks around to my mother and places the shawl that hangs from her chair over her shoulders. She looks up at him and squeezes the hand that rests on her upper arm lovingly. I blink and look away, feeling embarrassed for Cinzia after having to watch her husband ruin the evening. Sure enough, she stands up, brushes her skirt and walks swiftly away. Alone.
Before I get up, I look at Theo one more time. He sits frozen in his seat, staring at a wine stain on the tablecloth. Having no influence or importance in his life, I walk up the stairs without looking back.
Lucia, Jo and Maio decide they’re tired and leave in Jo’s car. My father helps Dexter into his car, walking to the driver’s side. Cinzia shrugs meekly at Anika, her face soft and solemn, and decides to drive alone with my mother. Dante, Anika and I stand in the middle of the dark parking lot, listening to the distant chatter of people along the river. Dante fumbles for a cigarette; the three minutes of silence are far too intense for him. After another minute, Theo’s head pops up from the stairs and he smiles awkwardly as he approaches us.
‘Well, that was fucking awful.’ His elbow brushes against mine as he walks to stand next to Dante.
Hesitantly, Dante looks to Theo. ‘I’m sorry, Dexter’s a dick when he’s drunk.’
Theo’s eyebrows raise and he glances at Anika as if asking for permission. She rolls her eyes and grabs Dante’s cigarette from his mouth.
‘ High ,’ Theo corrects, shrugging his shoulders as if his father being on drugs is minor.
‘No way your dad does drugs.’ Dante’s mouth falls open in bewilderment, his eyes flickering from Theo to Anika, and I know that if he were a little drunker, he might be bold enough to say something comforting to her.
Anika snorts. ‘Every time he “celebrates”, he almost always pre-games with some snow.’
‘No shit.’ Dante shakes his head in disbelief. ‘I thought I knew everything about you guys.’
Not knowing what to say, I just nod, feeling sad and uncomfortable for Theo and Anika. For a few moments, the only sound in the parking lot is the paper of Anika’s cigarette burning, stolen from between Dante’s fingers. I close my eyes, breathing in the trail of smoke.
‘Does your friend want to join us?’ Theo says, and it takes me a moment to process he’s directing this question to me.
‘Who?’ Using my left foot to scratch my right ankle, I hold onto Dante’s shoulder to keep my balance.
‘The one who hugged you over the crab legs.’ He narrows his eyes at me, as if he doesn’t believe I don’t remember.
‘Who is hugging Magdalen?’ Dante perks up at the drama. ‘Should I kill him?’
‘No, Dante,’ I rush out. ‘No killing.’ I blink, feeling like my conversation with Roberto happened two years ago. ‘Oh, Roberto, yeah,’ I nod, happy I even remembered his name at this point.
‘If that’s his name, then obviously him, Magdalen,’ Theo replies coolly.
My eyes flicker to his and he looks back impassively. I open my mouth to respond but Anika gasps.
‘Roberto was in there? Maggie! Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have said hi!’
I shift on my feet. ‘Sorry, it was so brief, I must’ve forgot,’ I lie. Feeling selfish for enjoying my conversation with Roberto, not wanting Anika to overpower me... Am I a bitch? The thought rushes through me like a brain freeze. Am I the most selfish, cold-hearted bitch that I didn’t even know that my best friend’s dad was on coke and I was worried that her standing next to me would outshine me?
‘Well, does he, Maggie ?’ Theo asks again, saying my name like it’s poison. He cocks his head to the side, awaiting my response, while his loafer scuffs against the pebbled flooring.
‘He, um, doesn’t get off until after the restaurant closes.’ Liar . As if you’d ever go back in there and invite him.
‘Shame,’ Theo sighs. ‘He looked like a fun guy.’
‘The most fun.’
‘More fun than me?’ Theo starts and then quickly looks to Dante. ‘Than us, I mean?’
Anika hoots loudly. ‘Brother dearest, our father just coked out at dinner and you talk less than a fucking pigeon. Of course Roberto is more fun.’
‘Yes, Anika!’ Dante jumps up excitedly. ‘Berate your brother. Ruin his confidence! Tell him he’s ugly next.’
‘Roberto is fun,’ I conclude, before Anika has time to come up with another insult.
‘We made plans for Thursday, so he won’t feel too bad about missing this,’ I add, careful not to look at Theo when I say it.
‘Just the two of you?’ Anika chimes in, her eyebrow rising so high that I count five forehead creases.
‘Yes, just the two of us. Going to L’Anguilla at nine, if you need to know,’ I say politely. I can feel Theo’s eyes boring into my face, setting my cheeks ablaze. So I keep my focus on Anika, pretending not to notice.
‘Okay, as much as I’d love to keep talking about my sister’s love life, can we get a move on?’ Dante starts walking in the direction of town.
Embarrassed and angry, I agree quietly. ‘Why yes, I believe we can. I’m ready to get drunk.’
Anika laughs and hooks her arm into mine. ‘What exactly did England do to you?’