Chapter Two. Antonio
Antonio had worked hard, all his life. All he had ever wanted was to look out for his family, and provide them with all he possibly could. When their son was born he was over the moon. He couldn't have hoped for more. He had felt his life to be complete. He had the best of wives, in Valeria, and then a son as well. Valeria was a rock. She was a hard worker, and never complained about anything. She had a natural beauty that didn't require the use of cosmetic products, which she considered a waste of money. She was a strong woman, with whom it was difficult to impose your will. Valeria knew what needed to be done, and you could never shake that conviction. He soon understood that his wife was spoiling their son, Marco, but didn't mind too much. After all, he was just a baby, they would have time to raise him as a strong boy, later on. Antonio had grown up in the 50's, a difficult time in rural Italy. His family didn't have much money, and food, although always present, was never in abundance. He had started working doing odd jobs, almost as soon as he could walk. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been working. Even the meager amount of money he had brought into the family coffers, had helped them through those difficult years. He wanted his son to be strong, to be a good provider for his eventual family. Nobody was going to help you in this life, you had to do it all by yourself. You needed the ability to survive, to flourish, through the deeds of your own hands. He wanted to give his son the right mindset, so that he could go out into the world as a successful, strong man. It didn't take long before he realised that Valeria was spoiling Marco, too much. Whatever he wanted he got. With Antonio being away at work all day, he had difficulty imposing his will on the situation. No matter what he asked his wife to do, she would just keep on giving Marco everything he wanted. That was a recipe for disaster. That way you would turn him into a spoiled brat, incapable of making his own way in society. Those early years had turned into years of arguing. He just couldn't make his wife understand that she wasn't helping Marco at all. She was just making him less capable of surviving out in the world. Soft. Weak. Every decision about Marco's upbringing ended up in an argument. As the years passed he could see that their son was totally unprepared for life. He couldn't do anything on his own. Marco had become a mommy's boy, tied to his mothers apron strings. Antonio tried to get him interested in sport, but to no avail.
One time, when Marco was around ten years old, he took him out on a bush walk. It was an easy trail just a little way out of town. A short way along the trail Antonio hurried ahead of Marco, and hid behind some trees. He was watching him, to see how well he would react to the situation. Antonio hoped he would logically try and work out where his father had gone. In reality, he just fell sobbing to the ground. How was he going to make his way in life like this? His mother had totally ruined him. At an age when Antonio had been working for years, Marco was not even capable of walking along a well marked trail. Angrily he had picked him up, and taken him back to the car. He just didn't know what to do. As expected, when they had arrived home, Marco went screaming to his mother. That set off another row. One of the many, where Marco's upbringing was concerned. All they ever did was argue. The reason was always the same. Whatever he tried, Antonio just could never seem to get his way. Marco was a lost case. It wasn't until Marco married, at 28 years old, and moved out of the family home, that Antonio found some peace. Finally the discussion wasn't always about their son. Finally they had some time to enjoy together, like they had in the old days, before Marco was born. Antonio and Valeria stopped arguing, and enjoyed the best times they ever had.
Whenever they could, they would go away for the weekend, or even take a week's holiday somewhere. Antonio fell in love with his wife again. He was so happy to be with her. They had lost many years disagreeing on Marco's upbringing, but now their marriage was back on track. Marco was now someone else's problem, and he and Valeria, could just enjoy life. Their lives returned to how they had been before Marco was born. The two of them always together, and their love strong. Valeria decided that they should learn a second language, and decided that it would be Spanish. Antonio didn't mind. He was just so elated to rediscover his wife, after such a long absence, he was happy to do anything with her. How they had laughed during their Spanish course! Both of them felt a bit silly speaking in another language, and it just cracked them up. Each time one would say something in Spanish, anything, the other would start laughing. One day, that happiness disappeared. Forever. Antonio would never forget that fateful morning.
'My God, Antonio, I have such a bad headache. I've never had anything like this before. Something is wrong! This isn't normal.'
'Have you taken anything? Maybe you just need some time for the medicine to take effect.'
'It started last night. Now, today it's killing me. Antonio, I'm scared! This is worse than any headache I've ever had.'
'Alright, let's go to the hospital. Don't worry, it'll all be ok, you'll see!'
Famous last words. Never had a statement been proved to have been so wrong.
From there, the march towards the end had started. At first, the doctors put it all down to just a bad migraine, and initially sent her home with some strong medicine. When it got even worse, they started to take it a bit more seriously, and did the appropriate exams. What they found was not good. What they found was the worst possible outcome. Valeria had an inoperable brain tumour. Valeria, being a no nonsense sort of person, told the specialist to give it to her straight. The specialist told them that the end would be rapid. Anything from a few days, to a few weeks. No longer. There was no treatment, just pain relief. Antonio felt devastated. He had only had his wife back for a few short years, and now this. He didn't think he could handle life without her. All his hard work, all those years wasted arguing about their son, and now this? Valeria, as expected, took it in her stride. Her fortitude was endless. She remained strong, and had plenty of advice for Antonio. Even though she had just been given a death sentence, her first thought was for those she loved. Those she would leave behind.
'Antonio, I don't want you to fall into despair, do you understand? Living on your own would kill you. I know you don't want to hear this now, but eventually, I want you to remarry. Just because you find someone else doesn't mean you have to forget about me. But I don't think it will be good for you to stay on your own. Also, please, please try and mend some fences with Marco. At the very least, I want you to be a big presence in their child's life. I won't be around when he, or she, is born, but I want you to be there, for the two of us. Tell him stories about his grandma! Antonio, don't go to pieces on me! Promise me!'
'Ok, I promise. Listen, don't think about all that now. It's time for you to think about yourself, for a change.'
'It's too late for me. I can accept that. I want you to survive this. I want your life to carry on. This is not the end for you.'
Antonio pretended that he would do as she asked, but deep down, he knew he would never be able to mend those fences with Marco, and he knew he would never be able to find another woman like Valeria. After all they had been through together, how could she be replaced? He knew that his life would end, with hers. The only good thing to come out of it, if you could call that a good thing, was that Valeria died after a very brief period, barely ten days after the headaches started. At least she hadn't had to suffer for long.
Antonio went through the events after her death on auto pilot. He let other people organise the funeral, and the choice of the gravestone. That period was all a blur to him. Maybe, subconsciously, he had blocked it out, or possibly, the stress of it all had closed down his brain. In any case, shortly after her funeral, he found himself at home, alone. It just didn't seem possible that, after finally rediscovering the joy and happiness they had shared in the early years of their marriage, Valeria, his love, was now gone. All those wasted years, arguing over Marco's upbringing, came back to haunt him. Without a doubt, he had been too severe with his position, but Valeria had been too soft with hers. Unfortunately, they had never been able to find that middle ground, which would have been acceptable to both of them, and which would have made Marco more independent, and a stronger, more capable person. His already low opinion of Marco worsened, he blamed him for having ruined his relationship with Valeria. Before he had been born, and then after he had left home, they gotten on fine, not just fine, but fantastically. Marco had taken away his wife from him. He had ruined the bulk of the time they had had together. Antonio soon grew to despise Marco. On one front, he was able to keep his promise to Valeria. When Alex was born Antonio felt nothing but love for him. He wasn't to blame for his father's failings. On one of his visits to see Paola, and the new baby, in the maternity ward of the hospital, he waited until Marco left to sound out Paola.
'Paola, you know I don't have much of a relationship with my son, but I would really love to be a part of Alex's life. Would you mind if I saw him? Would you help me, with that?'
'Of course! You, definitely must be a part of his life. You can tell him all about his grandmother, and the life you had together. Don't worry, I will organise everything. I know things are very difficult between you and Marco, and maybe you will never patch things up, but you definitely must be a part of Alex's life. A big part! That I can promise you.'
True to her word, Paola made sure that Antonio would see a lot of little Alex. Antonio just loved him. He always felt so sad that Valeria wasn't there to see him. Even as a little baby, he would show him photos of his grandmother, and tell him all about her. Quite often with a tear in his eye. He was determined to keep her memory alive. The years passed slowly, and painfully, for Antonio. He always felt so lonely. The only good thing in his life was when he would see Alex. By some great fortune, Marco had married a very nice person. Antonio was so grateful to Paola for letting him spend a lot of time with Alex. The rest of his days, and years, just seemed empty. He didn't know what to do with himself. He thought about dating, but it all seemed so sordid to him. He had no idea even how to go about something like that. Besides, he doubted he would ever be able to find anyone nearly as lovely as his Valeria had been. As the years passed Antonio fell into a routine. His life, whilst not enjoyable, at least had structure to it. It was a livable life, if not a happy one. All that was to change, in a moment of distraction.
One day, roughly eight years after his wife had died, Antonio was going to the supermarket, just to pick up a few things for dinner. Maybe he was thinking about what he needed to buy, or the next time he hoped to see Alex, in any case, in a moment of inattention, he bumped into a woman who had just left the supermarket, sending her shopping bag flying, with its contents falling to the ground. He quickly got to his knees, and picked up the fallen objects, putting them back in the bag. Feeling embarrassed about what he had done he blurted out an apology to the woman, a very pretty blonde, a lot younger than him. He felt terribly foolish about the whole thing, but she was very understanding, and didn't appear to be annoyed with him at all.
'I'm so terribly sorry. If anything is broken I will pay for it. I wasn't looking where I was going. Please, forgive me, it was just so stupid of me.'
'Please, not bother. Everything fine. It was really my fault. I should be more careful.'
'No, believe me, it was all my doing. Where are you from? You aren't Italian, are you?'
'I am from Moldova. I am here many years now. Italy is very pretty country, with very nice people.'
'That's so nice of you to say. You know, I would love to hear about your country. Could I buy you a coffee, and have a chat? I don't want to waste your time, but if you are not in a hurry I would love to hear about where you come from, and how you ended up here in Italy.'
'That would be nice. I don't have any Italian friends, and I would like to ask you some things, too.'
Forgetting about the shopping he had planned to do, Antonio went for a coffee with her. Her name was Nastya, and he realised straight away that he enjoyed her company, a lot. She was tall, and slightly overweight, but had a very pretty face. With her medium length blonde hair, and eastern European features, she looked absolutely lovely. After chatting for a couple of hours, Antonio asked if he could see her again, just to continue their conversation, and budding friendship. He never dreamed it would lead to anything other than friendship, she being far younger than him. He was just so happy to have found someone pleasant to talk to, a way to fill in the loneliness of his normal day. It was nice to be in the company of such a delightful woman. He realised immediately how it would look to the outside world. The old man with a prostitute, or maybe, with a foreigner trying to latch onto him for his money. He knew it wasn't like that. He felt so good in her company that he didn't care what people thought about them, besides, he had always been a good judge of character, and he believed her to be a very sincere, honest person. Right from the start Nastya was very reluctant to talk about her family, and her past. Antonio realised that it was a painful subject for her, he understood that she had not had a happy upbringing, so he didn't insist. He knew himself how painful some memories could be. He didn't like talking about Valeria, and the problems they had had with Marco. Before too long, their coffee meetings evolved into dinner out, or taking in a movie. One evening, after having dinner in a local pizzeria, they went for a walk. The evening was a bit cool, Nastya took his arm, and walked alongside him, their bodies touching. Antonio realised, in that moment, that his feelings for her were more than just friendship. He thought he was being a bit foolish, after all, she was around his son's age, but he just knew that he had to say something to her about how he felt.
'Nastya, I enjoy being with you very much. You make me feel alive. I know that I am far too old for you, but you are more than just a friend to me. Please, forgive me, if you don't feel the same.'
'You silly man! Of course I feel same. I didn't want to say anything, because maybe you think I want you for your money, or something.'
'I don't think that at all! I know that you are a very honest, genuine person. I would never think that.'
Nastya stopped walking, and put her hand on his cheek.
'I have never met nice man like you. You treat me like a person, you treat me with respect. You are good man.'
Antonio felt like he was 20 years old, he was so nervous. He really didn't know how to handle the situation, it had been so long since he had found himself in this position. He leaned in, towards her face, and lightly kissed her on the lips. He was so flustered he thought he had better get home, to think about it all. Could he really start a relationship, at his age? Could this be really happening?
'Come on, Nastya, I'll walk you home. Why don't we have a drink tomorrow evening?'
'I would like that. Why don't I come to your place?'
Antonio had butterflies in his stomach. He desired her so much, but he was just so unsure of how to proceed. It had been so long since he had been in a situation like this.
'That sounds lovely. I have some very nice wine, and I will buy us some snacks. Why don't you come over around 7 o'clock?'
She nodded in reply.
The next day Antonio was incredibly agitated, he could hardly sit still. He wanted to sleep with Nastya, but was unsure of how to make the right moves. By the time 7 o'clock came around, he was almost in a mind to call the whole thing off. He was terribly flustered. But then, when he saw her, on his doorstep, he knew it was going to go just fine. He could feel the tension is his body disapper. A warm feeling came over him. Her smile was just so beautiful, and genuine. He felt something he hadn't felt in many years. Love. Looking at her, in that moment, he knew that he was in love with her.
'Well, you invite me in, or no?'
In reply, Antonio embraced her, and kissed her. She felt so good in his arms. The evening that he had been so worried about, went smoothly. They had a glass of wine together, both happy and smiling without a care. Antonio no longer felt nervous. He no longer didn't know what to do. In fact, he knew exactly what to do. That evening was the best evening Antonio had had for a lifetime. In bed together, the two of them couldn't stop kissing, and cuddling. He now had the one thing that had eluded him in these lonely years. Happiness. He knew that he would never be alone again. After so much sadness, and loneliness, Antonio was reborn. Nastya had given him back his life.