Someone to Love (22 page)

“I kissed Diego.”

Fiamma burst out laughing, an uncontrolled, belly clutching guffaw.

“Impossible, the Mia I know doesn't kiss anyone. You could invent something more realistic,” she said.

I looked up to the sky. “You have to believe it, but that's not the problem. I let myself go a little too much after the tyre blew out, and it only took a moment of weakness to tell him everything…”

“With everything you mean Alberto? So? What's wrong with telling him how that shit treated you,” she insisted. I shook my head. “Good girl, I like your comment but, no… you're way off track.”

Fiamma didn't speak.

“Diego knows everything. And the fact that he knows every detail about my past makes me feel lighter. But I'm not happy to have told him everything like that…”

“I don't know what to say. Maybe what happened with Alberto gave you the strength to face the past,” she continued. “I like the Mia you are now,” she added, with sincere affection.

“Don't make fun of me. I know I'm messed up emotionally and that makes me vulnerable. I don't know how this could have happened, I can't explain it.”

“I think you do know, but you don't want to admit it to yourself.” Fiamma stared at me for a long time, then her lips parted in a smile. “You like Diego!”

I looked puzzled. “Don't be ridiculous.”

That cop was a distraction and I had too much responsibility to think about him.

“So you admit that you don't like him at all,” she remarked.

Why was she so determined to put me under pressure? I wondered whether I really wanted to repeat what my head was suggesting.

“It's not that I don't like him at all. But I'm still very disappointed about what happened to me and…”

Fiamma didn't let me finish. “Stop, that's enough for me to know.”

I was uncomfortable and I hurried to change the subject. “Very well!” I cried, tired now. “Let's shave him and put the razor away,” I added.

When Antonio appeared in the room, holding two cups of hot tea, we had just finished the work.

“Have you finished?” he asked in amazement.

“Of course. Now we'll wait for the results of the blood tests to figure out how to proceed. Meanwhile, are there any volunteers for a walk?”

“I don't think he's used to going for a walk,” suggested Fiamma. “He probably spent most of his life tied to that chain.”

“We'll try slowly, one step at a time.”

When I brought the dog into the back of the clinic, he began to move slowly in that totally unknown environment. He sniffed the floor looking for some familiar smell, and tackled every step full of fear. As soon as he found himself in front of a small bowl of food, his eyes gleamed with a new light. He lowered his face and turned to look at me.

“Come on! It's all yours,” I said.

He devoured all the biscuits, leaving nothing. I sighed in amazement; I didn't dare imagine how long it had been since he'd had a full meal.

“Were you hungry, little one?” I asked.

He was sitting in front of me and looked at me with bright eyes, following my movements with his head.

“I have to find you a name, you're adorable. Let me think…” I murmured softly.

I put my hand to my mouth and circled the room with my eyes, searching for a useful clue.

A gust of fresh air made me turn around. Diego was behind me.

I suddenly felt better.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, embarrassed, twisting a lock of hair between my fingers. He walked over and leaned against the wall, frowning. “They asked me to come and see how the dog was doing. I only have ten minutes, then I have to go back to the office and stay until tonight.”

“He's a little ugly right now. He looks like a plucked chicken, but he'll manage. I was thinking about a name for him. Do you have any ideas?”

A look of astonishment came over his face. “Me? I've always been awful with names. To think that I called my goldfish Fish.”

I laughed.

“Stop it or I'll blush. It's not my fault, I'm not the imaginative type,” he apologized, moving something invisible with his foot.

“It probably depends on the situation…”

The moment was broken by a loud gurgle. The dog quenched his thirst by drinking water from the bowl and making it squirt out.

“Oh, of course, a name,” I said, changing the subject. “How about Alaska?”

“Not bad. You're good, girl,” said Diego, and nodded.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. “Do you still have five minutes to spare to take him for a walk with me? I'll take advantage of it, since you're here.”

Diego slid his finger down my back and there was no hesitation in that simple touch.

“I'll follow you.”

We walked briskly and Alaska began to follow us with his nose turned up, sniffing the surrounding world, which was entirely new and uncharted territory for him. Then at one point he leapt forward, and the lead stretched to its limit.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to understand what had attracted his attention. “Did you see anything?”

From behind the hedge on our left, a few steps away from us, a dog with a fawn coat appeared.

Alaska looked at her, and almost choked himself to run to her.

“I understand,” I re-assured him, “but you have to sit and be good,” I said smiling.

Alaska raised his nose and sat.

“Did you… did you see?” I stammered with difficulty.

“He seems to respond to your commands. Maybe his owner taught him something good after all,” said Diego, with a grimace.

At that moment I felt as euphoric as a fifteen-year-old at her first party. “It's wonderful. I want to see what else he knows.” A moment later I increased the length of the leash.

Alaska stood in his position. Lively and expressive eyes peered at me with tenderness and glistened in the sunlight.

I grabbed a ball from my pocket and threw it toward the fence. Both dogs rushed after it. That vision stirred something inside me.

Without realizing, I reached out for Diego's hand and squeezed it. With my fingers interlaced with his, I watched Alaska chasing the ball with his tongue hanging out.

My job was a constant source of happiness. The look each dog that I saved gave me told me much more than ever a man would be able to say in words.

My head slipped onto Diego's shoulder and I closed my eyes.

The hospital was one of those places that made me lose myself in a labyrinth of memories. It filled my head with the faces of former patients, like that of my grandfather. It was still so vivid, with his skin aged by the sun and furrowed by deep wrinkles.

Martina's voice, trying to pull the ball out of Bubu's mouth, brought me back to reality.

“Excuse me?”

“Here it is.” Martina proudly showed me the tennis ball in her hand. “Bubu is mischievous and doesn't want to let it go.”

I had to smile. “I know, he hasn't learned to share his toys with others yet, we have to teach him. But he's very sweet with you, do you remember how he tried to make you laugh on his last visit?”

“True, he started pushing his nose against my belly and he tickled me. His nose is always wet and if you touch it he sneezes in your face,” she said with a grin.

The door opened and in walked Lukas. He let go of Gemma's hand and ran to Bubu, who was sitting next to Martina and I.

“Helloooo,” Lukas shouted and put his arms around Bubu's neck. He stroked him until he calmed down.

“There we are, even Lukas is here.” snorted Martina. “Mia, next time come a little bit earlier so we can be alone. In a while Giulio will come as well and you won't play with me any more.” The hint of a pout. I didn't like that feeling.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it's the truth! When they get here you're different. You're always behind Giulio and you put me aside.”

Those words hurt me, but I had to give her an explanation. “You think so, but actually Giulio just needs more attention. He can't speak and move as easily as you do.” I caught my breath. “You could be my assistant when Fiamma's not here, what do you say? Next time I'll bring you a coat, so we'll be dressed alike.”

Martina hopped with happiness next to me and a radiant smile appeared on her face. “Hurrah!”

“Always the lucky one,” Lukas puffed out his cheeks.

“You should have been born a girl,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

“Don't start. How about practising putting Bubu's lead on like last time?”

“Me first,” shouted Lukas, raising his arm.

“Ok. Do you remember how to put it on?”

“Yes, I just have to put this on his neck and slip the lead under here.” Lukas explained, while carrying out the task that was easy for an adult. “And that's that. Done!”

“That was quick! So, let me see what you've learned these days.”

Lukas wore the pouch, which contained dog snacks, and caught hold of the lead.

It was exciting to see them walking side by side, touching each other to make contact. Bubu's eyes were focussed on following Lukas's movements, whose hesitation he sensed, so on the first step he pulled too hard. Every time, I made them go back and try again. It was a game of patience and mutual respect that had led to enormous progress.

“Mia, look!” cried Lukas happily. “We did it at the first attempt.”

“Well done! You have hidden talents.”

The room we had been given at the hospital was quite cramped. One wall was entirely occupied by a mirror and a bar, used for motor support, ran round the entire perimeter. It was the room dedicated to physiotherapy, freed purposely for pet therapy activities. In one corner was a low table with five coloured chairs and several thin rubber mats of the kind used for gymnastics.

At the end of the exercise, after going round the room, they stopped. Lukas undid the zipper on the pouch, took a biscuit out and put it on the palm of his right hand. “Sit!” and held out his index finger in the direction of the floor.

As soon as he spoke, Bubu sat down and not only ate the biscuit, but also gave Lukas a solemn lick on the hand.

The child smiled proudly.

“Good job, now we'll do the exercise with the ball and this time Martina will help me,” I suggested.

A shrill voice interrupted my speech and we all turned round.

“Bubu Dog!” Giulio squirmed, trying to escape from his mother's grip. Under that long dark hair, eyes shining, there was a glimpse of the emotions that stirred inside him.

“Excuse me,” Paola said. “He dragged me here. Sorry, I no longer have the strength I used to have…” she added, to justify the interruption.

“No problem, we were expecting Giulio so that we could all do an activity together,” I explained.

Although he had already passed it, it was as if Giulio was repeating a phase of his childhood over and over again for the last ten years. Despite the difficulties, his mother always smiled, looking at him with adoration. And she often hugged him. I was surprised every time, I couldn't imagine my mother doing such a thing with me. In my family, contact was denied by tacit agreement, and the result was that none of us were able to express affection. My parents were discreet people, and preferred to compensate for the absence of fond words and gestures with material things.

“What shall we play now?” asked Lukas.

“We could draw! I brought everything we need to colour. Each of you can draw whatever they want, but it would be nice if you tried to draw a portrait of Bubu.” I prepared the table for the task. “Look at him, he's posing for you.”

Bubu sat and wagged his tail from side to side. “Mia, he never stands still. How can I draw him?”

“Bring it back immediately.” Lukas got up from his chair and ran after Bubu, who had stolen his marker pen. It was funny to think that concentration of stubbornness would be helpful to the children.

We all laughed. “Look, it's not a biscuit and it will make your nose all red,” I said, trying to remove the marker pen from his mouth. “What am I supposed to do with you? Come and help me Giulio.”

I invited Giulio to sit next to me. “Now you know what we'll do? Choose one of these colours…”

Giulio looked at me and smiled, but his body remained motionless.

“I wonder how come he's so calm when he's here. I can't usually get his attention for more than two minutes. Then he locks himself up in his world, and makes a continuous humming sound,” his mother explained. “At home Giulio is different, but here he seems calmer and peaceful. My husband and I are very committed to not letting him miss out on anything and to keeping him company. Ever since he was born we've just lived for him. These meetings allow me to recover a bit of energy and switch off for a while.”

“Giulio is safe with us, Paola. Really, you don't need to be here. Why don't you take time for yourself and go and do something relaxing?”

“You're right, but it's hard to break away from a piece of one's own heart. Giulio probably wouldn't even notice my absence, but I do.” The words stopped in her throat. “Giulio, is it ok if mummy goes? I'll sit in that corner over there watching you.”

As expected, Giulio didn't turn to look at her. “Even if he doesn't reply, I understand. When he puts his fingers in this way, it means ‘yes'.”

“So, which one do you want?” I asked, showing him all the markers in my hand.

He looked at them for a moment and grabbed one. “Green,” he replied, and then ran towards his mother.

“Don't be shy, because I know you like drawing. Show Mia how good you are,” Paola brought him back to sit with us.

“Put your hand on here,” I suggested to Giulio, pointing to a blank sheet.

He sought his mother's consent and then lifted his hand. “Here hand.”