CRAVING U (The Rook Café) (11 page)

They all stuffed themselves like pigs, and
the house wine flowed like a river.

Marika and Carlotta, holding their
bursting stomachs and unbuttoning their pants to allow room to breathe, were
giggling hysterically over every joke, pun, and double entendre.  “Let’s go up
to my room,” Marika proposed to her cousin, trying to pry herself from her
chair.

“Yeah, I’ve got to see the gift that that
snake Lucrezia gave you.  She got me a day timer, look!”  Carlotta pulled it
from her bag.

“Nice,” Marika commented with fake
indifference.  Her innate allergy to that name had brought her down from her
food-filled high.

While showing her cousin the push-up bra
and panties in Chantilly lace with a camouflage pattern, making sure she
noticed the fact that they were about the right size for a Barbie doll,
Carlotta interrupted her, as usual.  “Hey, last night, we waited for you
outside the church for almost thirty minutes in the freezing cold.”  She
chattered her teeth in a demonstration.  “But when you didn’t show up, we
headed inside.”  She flopped back into the easy chair next to Marika’s bed, yawning
loudly.  “Where were you guys, anyway?  We were undecided between a flat tire
and a quickie!”  She smiled sarcastically.  “Take it easy, I managed to quiet
the rumors.”  Carlotta had already put the stand-off between Matteo and
Marcello totally out of her mind, basically because she found the idea of them
fighting over her cousin completely impossible.  “You’d never have the guts,
and he....”

Marika looked at her, grinning.

“... noooo.  I can’t believe it!?” 
Carlotta was shocked.  “Start talking!”

“There isn’t much to say really.”

“Huh?  What?”  She sat up and pointed a
finger at her cousin.  “There isn’t much to say about
what
?  You’ve got
to be kidding!  Tell me everything!”

Marika took a deep breath to keep from
hyperventilating.  “Basically, he waited for all of you to leave so he could
give me a Christmas present, complete with a card that made me want to kiss him
forever despite the usual sarcasm....”  The memories were flooding her mind
anew.  “Matteo’s never given me a gift before.”  She was riding an emotional
high.  “At least not from him alone.  After opening it, I lost all sense of
reality, so I hugged him and then....”  She paused.

“Then what?” her cousin demanded, hoping
for juicy details.

“Then nothing.”  She hugged her knees
against her chest.  “Sandra and Giacomo showed up, ruining everything.”

“I
knew
it!  I knew nothing truly
exciting could have happened.”  Carlotta stood up from the comfortable easy
chair and started thumbing through Marika’s CDs. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.  Something did
happen.”

“Which was?” she purred, yawning.

“There was a kiss, well, almost a kiss,”
she said, hesitating.

Carlotta raised an eyebrow and twisted up
her lip at Marika.  “What exactly do you mean by an ‘almost kiss’?”

“I mean....”  Marika couldn’t find the
right words to express the sensation she had felt there in the car.  She didn’t
want to boil that special moment down to a mere sequence of boring facts.  “I
mean that he was moving his lips toward mine just at the moment that the others
interrupted us,” she said uncomfortably.

“You mean to say that he wanted to give
you an innocent kiss in celebration of Christmas, but he was slightly
off-target and you have now blown it all out of proportion??”  She couldn’t
help herself from making this cruel insinuation.

“No.  No!  Really!  I’m not making it up.” 
Marika looked around the room, feeling lost.  “Or at least I don’t think I am.” 
She closed her eyes as she tried to recreate the events in her mind, separating
fact from fantasy.

“I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” her
cousin said, raising her hands above her head.  She tried to sound serious so
as to validate her sincerity.  “I’ve been telling you for ages that Matteo’s
got a huge crush on you... and I’m not talking ‘love you like a sis’ stuff or
that he just wants to get you into bed.  Everyone’s noticed how he’s become
around you.”  She stretched her back and rubbed her bulging belly.  “It’s just
that I’m surprised.”  She widened her eyes.  “I never thought he would actually
make a move.”

“Well, I guess he didn’t really make any
move,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders, “But I felt something new,
something different that he was trying to communicate to me.”  She decided to
trust her instincts.  “I’m not wrong about that.  I know it.”

“OK, I believe you.”  Carlotta sat down on
the bed next to her.  “So, what’s your next move?”

“I don’t know,” she said, as her face
began to glow again in the memory of last night.

Carlotta pointed a finger at her.  “Fess
up!  On a scale of 1 to 10, how happy are you?”

“Happy??”  Marika started to make strange
squealing noises before managing to get the words out.  “I was deliriously
happy even
before
I got into his car!”

Carlotta started in on the squealing at
that point too, and they giggled hysterically until they ran out of energy.  “It’s
too bad that you aren’t coming with us for New Year’s!  It would have been a
perfect opportunity,” she said, genuinely disappointed for her.  “But don’t
worry.  I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“You don’t need to,” Marika said, hoping
that the strange alchemy that she had felt last night was not the result of her
imagination.  “If there’s really something between us, it will still be here
when I get back.”

“
Touché
!”  Carlotta bowed
ceremoniously toward her cousin, though falling far short of the 30 degree
angle that Japanese norms of reverence would have demanded.  “What do you say
about winning some money off our family, then, since the sales are going to
start soon?”  She had heard the unmistakable sounds of cards, lotto, trivial
pursuit, and other games rising from the living room downstairs.

The idea of cleaning out their relatives
at blackjack – like they had last year – brought a greedy grin to Marika’s
face, so they headed downstairs, still gossiping about Lucrezia the snake and
discussing Carlotta’s improbable plans for capturing Valerio.

The cheerful gathering lasted all day and
into the evening until, at about 10:30, the guests took their leave, exhausted
by the marathon of board games and cards.  Some of them had their pockets full,
others went with a lightened wallet, but all were happy to have spent another
family Christmas together.

Late the next morning, on St. Stephen’s
Day, Marika’s group of friends got together at
The Rook
for yet another
round of holiday cheer... and to detox after 24 hours of constant contact with
their families.

Marika and Matteo smiled knowingly at each
other, slightly embarrassed for the secret that they shared, until they, like
everyone else present, were distracted by a completely unexpected event.

Shy Dario, totally ignoring the fact that
they were surrounded by all of their friends, neared Carlotta, who was wearing
a modish plum-colored coat belted tightly around her waist, and handed a
package wrapped in gold paper to her.  “Sorry that it’s late, but on Christmas
Eve I didn’t have time to give it to you,” he admitted, disarmingly honest.

Carlotta stiffened at this public display,
like a statue at Madame Tussaud’s, totally embarrassed by his words.  “Why on
earth are you giving it to me here?”  It was one of the only times Marika had
seen her so nervous.  “And now?” she sputtered, disoriented and shooting sparks
from her eyes.

He ignored her reaction, and just smiled. 
“If you want, you can open it now, or...” he added, judging her face, “at home,
if you prefer.”

“Definitely at home!” she said, annoyed
and totally ill at ease, grabbing the package roughly from his hands.

Dario shook his head, entranced by her,
and gave her a gentle smack on her cheek with the palm of his hand before
walking away.

“Carlotta!  Hey!”  She looked as if she
had been hypnotized.  “Oh Carlottina!”  Marika shook her shoulders to get her
attention.  “You there?  Anyone home?”

“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, regaining
consciousness.  “Come on, cut it out!” she growled, trying to save face.  “So
guys, what’s the plan?”  She did her best to change subjects, helped not
insignificantly by the appearance of a devastatingly gorgeous Brad/Achilles on
the TV screen above the bar, which was showing Wolfgang Petersen’s
Troy
.

Meanwhile, Marcello, who had zero interest
in the human drama unfolding before his eyes, was making Marika feel very
uncomfortable.  He hadn’t stopped looking at her since she walked through the
door.  It was like some kind of psychological pressure, and she gave in,
deciding to go over and talk with him.

They slipped out the door so as not to be
overly visible.  No one gave any notice to the fact that they had left the
room; no one except for Matteo, that is.

“Thanks so much for the gift, it’s
amazing.  But I can’t accept it.”  Marika wanted to get this over with as
quickly as possible, handing the jewelry box over to him.  “It’s too much,
really.”

“Let me get this straight.”  Marcello
looked her in the face insolently, his voice turning hard.  “You don’t think
that I’m trying to hit on you, do you?”

“Maybe... yeah.  I mean, no.  Ummm...” she
stuttered, “I mean, not exactly in those words.”  She tried to squirm her way
out of this situation, knowing that she had committed some kind of rookie
mistake in the eyes of that strange male universe.  “Anyway, no, I didn’t mean
that, you’ve got it wrong, there’s nothing to worry about.”  She dropped her
eyes.  “I don’t know why you gave it to me, but I’m sure that you aren’t into
me.  And so, can’t we just stay friends like before?”

“We’ve never really been friends,”
Marcello said.  “Anyway, I wasn’t trying to buy you.  I just wanted to give you
something.  Here... keep it!”  He took the necklace from the box and had her
turn around.  “Next time...” he said, letting the chain slide gently down her
neck, “don’t be afraid of questioning yourself... you might like what you find!” 
He closed the clasp.  “It looks great on you.”

“
Why is he acting this way?
”  She
swallowed nervously.  “
It doesn’t make any sense.
”  She had never
trusted him, based mainly on the stories you heard about him, but his
gentlemanly, mature manners at this moment confused her.  “
It all seems so
totally absurd.  He’s done nothing but make fun of me forever, him and that
other moron as well, and now, all of a sudden, what’s going on?
” she thought,
while she gave him a quick hug of thanks.  “It’s very nice, thanks,” she
whispered affectionately, before turning around and heading back to the others.

She found them divided up along the lines
of a 1950s church function: girls to one side, talking about gossip, TV series,
fashion, and celebrities, and the boys propping up the bar, making fun of each
other, shoving and punching, and arguing about soccer.

But the most popular male theme of the day
was Dario’s unexpected self-immolation by publicly showing his affection for
Carlotta.  Valerio, in particular, who had always had the nasty habit of giving
a score to every girl who passed him on the street, was severely critical of
Dario’s performance, offering as his final word, “What the fuck were you thinking?” 
Then for good measure, he added, “Are you blind?  She’s a total dog!”

“I hardly need your permission,” Dario
responded, coldly and with a note of pride in his voice, totally unfazed.  “I’ve
been crazy about her ever since the first grade,” he added, his voice lost in
the clouds.

“At least you know you’re crazy, since
only a fool could....”  Valerio shook Dario’s hand ostentatiously in obvious
derision, looking around for support from the other guys.  “But could you at
least have the decency to declare your love out of my sight?”

“And could you have the decency to shut
up, unless you want to leave... you know where the door is, don’t let it hit
you in the ass,” he said, pointing toward the exit.  Dario, usually so
accommodating and diplomatic, was showing a side of him that very few had ever
seen.

“You’re such a dickhead.”  Valerio started
getting personal, as if it was his own private crusade.

“You got it all wrong, man.  You’re the
one who doesn’t get it,” Dario replied, keeping his tone civil and avoiding an
escalation of insults, even though his assaulter was showing his worst side.  “You
jump from one girlfriend to another without ever being satisfied, and all
because you don’t care about anyone.”

“Ah, envy is a terrible thing, huh?”  Valerio
clenched his jaw.  “You talk like that just because no girl will give it up to
you.”  He laughed wickedly.  “At least, no girl you would fuck without a bag on
her head.”

“Give it a rest,” Matteo interrupted,
tired of listening to Valerio’s ego trip.  “All this bullshit is getting old.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dario said,
shrugging his shoulders and looking Valerio in the face.  “Let him talk.”

“As if you could stop me.”  Valerio spit
on the floor littered with peanut shells and high-fived Marcello.  “But I
really am sorry,” he said, dripping with false compassion.  “It must be awful
having to always settle for whatever you can get.  But let’s face it.  A girl
like Lucrezia would never sleep with you.”