Red Running Shoes - 17. November Eyes

Michael was taking pictures of ‘Naked Men with Hats’ to show them to our friends at home. “Aurel won’t believe it until he sees the proof,” he snickered. “Next time he’s going to ask his mirror who’s the fairest of them all, and it will answer: ‘Famed is thy beauty, my friend. But hold, a lovely lad I see. Hats cannot hide his luscious grace. Alas, he is more fair than thee.’” By now we were shaking with laughter and had to hold onto each other to stop falling over.

Going with the theme, I straightened myself up, looked into one of the mirrors hanging in Sandro’s shop and then exclaimed loudly, “Scandalous! This must be a mistake! It must be broken!”

Michael almost dropped his phone while wiping tears from his eyes. “Chris, did you hear this?” He looked around searchingly, and finally found his boyfriend talking to Sandro. It was the first time they had met since that episode at the airport. I couldn’t hear what Chris was saying, but it seemed to be the right thing, because Sandro's face was relaxed, and after a while, he even smiled.

Sandro looked up and shook his head. “Having fun over there?”

“Oh yeah!” Michael looked at the pictures on his phone again and grinned. “Aurel will be so pissed.”

“You like my photos then?”

“Are you kidding? They’re gorgeous.” Michael turned around to look at the wall again. “I’d love to have a smaller version of Jonah’s photo. Is that even possible? I’d pay for it of course.”

Sandro frowned. “I don’t do that normally. Let me think about it. Okay? Although, there might be another option. Let me show you something.”

We followed him to his office. "All right guys, I need to hear your opinion on something. My friend Ivan created a foundation a few years ago after his son died. Among other things, they help kids get tested for STDs, and HIV for free without being asked any questions. At least it started with that. Now Ivan has a psychologist, several social workers, and other doctors on his team. The kids can find someone to talk to about their sexuality, school, their family, or whatever other problems they’ve got. Ivan’s newest project is building a safe house. The whole thing relies purely on donations, and money is always tight." He then opened a folder and showed us some of his photos. "These are twelve pictures I chose from photos I didn’t use for my collage. I thought that I could make a calendar. I'm not exactly famous, but I have a name as a photographer, and I think it could sell all right, at our shop in Milan, for example. We found a small printing house, which only charges a little for the production costs so that means around 90% of the profit will go into Ivan's foundation. So, what do you think? Should I do it?"

"It’s a great idea." Chris took the folder out of Sandro’s hand. "Can I see them?"

Michael and I were looking over Chris’s shoulder while he put the photos on the table in front of him. One was a close-up of my own face.

Michael reached around Chris and snatched it out of his hand. "What were you thinking about, Jonah, when Sandro took this?”

“I don’t remember. He took so many pictures…”

“It’s great, so sad though.”

"That’s November. I named it ‘November Eyes’."

"Perfect."

***

The last day of Chris and Michael’s visit had come. I was in my room getting my wallet and phone before we had to drive to the airport, when Michael came after me. "Jonah, I need to tell you one last thing.” Before I could say anything, he lifted both his hands. “Nothing bad. Two weeks after the wedding Ren called me and we talked some more. At the end he asked again if I knew your new address. I said yes, but as I had told him before, I wouldn’t give it to him unless you consented. Ren said he had to ask anyway- just to be sure. He wants to talk to you, Jonah. Maybe one day soon you can do that. I’m sure it would help you both.”

“I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise you.”

“That’s all I can ask for. He hurt you badly and he knows it.” Michael took my hand. “One last thing: Seeing you and Sandro together these last two weeks… I just wanted to say he is a nice guy, and I'm happy for you."

"Thank you.”

Michael looked as if he wanted to say something more but didn’t know how. In the end, he didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he walked over to my desk, and reached for a plastic box on top of a pile of paper. "What's that? Is it your braid?" He held it up questioningly.

"Yeah. I wanted to throw it away, but somehow I couldn't…"

"Do you mind if I take it?"

"What? You want my hair?” I frowned. “Well sure, but why? Don't you think it’s, I don't know, icky?"

"Nah…I'll take it."

I shrugged. "You're really funny sometimes."

***

Sandro had asked me to come over to his shop; he wanted to introduce me to some of his friends from Milan. So, when I opened the door and saw him embracing a cute guy with dark curls I immediately guessed it had to be one of them. I also recognized him as one of the guys from ‘Naked Men with Hats’.

"Oh, there he finally is, speaking of the devil so to speak…" Sandro met me halfway, took my hand, and enthusiastically dragged me over to them.

"Devil, huh?" I grinned.

He gave me a peck on my cheek. "Jonah, meet my friends Luca and Daniele from Milan." And to them "So, what do you think? He can do it? Right?"

"Uh… hi?" I looked at him. "I can do what?"

"Luca, Daniele, and I own a shop in Milan. Well, it’s more of a design studio with a shop actually. Daniele designs men’s fashion and Luca frames for high-end glasses. I told you I wanted to move the collage there, didn’t I?"

"Yes, you did.” I nodded to them. “Hi.” Then I turned to Sandro again. “I could do what?"

He grinned sheepishly. "All right, all right I'll get to it in a minute. Jeez! Let’s go to the office. Okay?”

Sandro’s shop assistant looked up from the computer when she saw us. “Meeting?”

“Yes. Could you arrange the new hats, while we’re talking? I’d really appreciate it.” Sandro smiled at her.

“I know when I’m not wanted.” She grinned at us. “No sugarcoating or bribery needed, boss.”

“Cute.” Luca whistled.

“Leave Gianna alone, will you? Go after your own shop assistants.” Sandro pushed a chair in Luca’s direction, who just rolled his eyes and then sat down.

“Okay. Every season I do the photo shoot for our new catalogue and the two large-sized black and white pictures hanging in the shop's windows. The last three years Daniele's boyfriend Alan usually did the modeling, showing Daniele's clothes, Luca's glasses, and my hats. Now all of a sudden Alan won't model for us anymore…"

"Why not?"

"Because we broke up two weeks ago and he's still angry with me." Daniele shrugged.

"He could never tell the difference between private and business stuff." Luca grumbled. “So unprofessional. I’d say we sue him, he signed the contract.”

"Well, whatever, the fact remains that we don't have a model for our new campaign now. We could book one at an agency, but we want somebody who kind of personifies our ideas and philosophy and there is not enough time for a lengthy search anymore. Which brings me—"

"Oh no…"

"Oh yes. You're perfect for us, Jonah. So much better than Alan, I might add," Luca exclaimed.

Daniele rolled his eyes at this. "Come on, you never liked Alan."

"You got that right. He is a vain, self-centered, bitchy asshole. I could never understand what you liked about him." Luca threw his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, yeah. Good thing it's over then."

"Exactly. And my glasses never looked really good on him either; your clothes yes, Sandro’s hats so la-la, but my glasses… See, Jonah here can wear glasses without looking like a bookworm; it's natural to him, no, he even looks sexy with them…That's what we always wanted, didn't we?"

"Yes, I totally agree with you on this. He would be perfect. What do you think, Jonah?" Daniele looked at me expectantly.

"Um… I don't know… I really don't think I am what you want.”

"Come on, please? Sandro, say something, convince him, bribe him, do whatever is needed." Luca pleaded with him.

"Nah, I won't push him; it's his own decision. To be honest, I already suspected he wouldn't like the idea very much."

"The payment will be very generous, come on, you can do it." Daniele pleaded. He was a perfect rendition of puss in boots.

"Hey, I have an idea! What about you donate a part of the money to Ivan's project?" And Sandro grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

He knew me too well. I couldn’t say no to that. "Okay, but this is a onetime thing. I'm not a model and I don't want to be one."

"Yes! We'll see about the onetime thing, though. The more money Ivan can get, the more he can spend on the kids after all…"

For the next three days I almost lived in Sandro's studio. They even hired Tony to do my hair and make-up this time. At the end of the third day, all I wanted was a shower to wash away the icky stuff on my face and in my hair, a pair of sweatpants, a baggy T-shirt, and my flip-flops. I'd never guessed it would be so straining. I'll never underestimate modeling again.

Daniele and Luca were more than happy with the results of our three days’ work session. They promised to send us pictures of the shop and the windows, as soon as they decorated it with the new ads.

***

We were on our way back from visiting an antique market in a neighboring town, when Sandro's phone started ringing. He stopped the car and wiggled around to get his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, when it stopped.

"Maybe you shouldn't wear such tight jeans, although I have to admit, they're looking hot on you." I laughed.

“Everything for you.” He finally had the phone out and looked at the screen before he put it in the cup holder. “I bet it’ll ring again, it was Daniele—”

And it rang again.

"Holy shit!" Sandro quickly grabbed the phone. "Hello? Oh, hi Daniele. What's up?"

He listened attentively. "Shit! Are you sure?…What did he look like?… Maybe his ex… No, it's okay, you couldn't know that…No really…well, what's done is done…A calendar too? Great. No, no…I'll tell him…I don't know…Oh…yes, thank you for calling. Yeah, bye, give Luca a hug." He shut the phone and turned to me. "That was Daniele," he said unnecessarily.

"No shit. What did he want? Has this Alan guy caused any problems?"

"No. Daniele told me they had an unusual customer today.”

There was something in Sandro’s voice. Distress. “Someone who bought three ‘Jonah’ hats?” I grinned, only Sandro didn’t smile back as he usually did.

“They noticed him, when he stood in front of the shop and looked at your photos in the windows for a very long time.”

“He only looked at the photos? Maybe he looked at the clothes, or the hats, or the—”

“There are no clothes, Jonah, or hats, only the two large-sized photos of yours. That’s why they have to be special, eye-catching.” He looked at me as if he wanted me understand something. “Anyway, when the customer came inside, he immediately asked about you. He didn’t even pretend to be interested in buying something.”

Oh shit!

“He wanted to know if Daniele knew you personally and Luca answered him that of course they knew you personally, as you were my boyfriend. Me being the hat designer and photographer.”

“That’s personal! Why telling a customer—”

“Luca wanted to discourage the guy by telling him that you’re in a relationship. They’ve had this problem before with Alan and it worked perfectly.”

I lifted my hand. “Okay.”

“Daniele said as soon as the word ‘boyfriend’ fell from Luca’s lips, the customer looked ill. He wandered around the shop and looked at every picture of yours until he noticed the calendars by the checkout counter. Your picture is on the cover. Luca explained to him that the calendar supports a charity project and showed him the description on the back cover.”

Ren. It had to be him. He found me. Oh no!

“And then he asked if the same photographer, who had taken the pictures in the shop had also taken the pictures for the calendar. Right?”

“Yes, and Luca confirmed it. The guy thanked him, bought one of the calendars, and left the store. Only later Luca remembered that my name is on the back cover and if this guy wanted it, he could find us here. So his call was a warning that maybe a potential stalker would come here, looking for you. Oh and he gave me a description: tall with long, straight, black hair, possibly half-Asian. Does that ring a bell?"

"Ren."

"That's what I thought. How is this possible? Do you think Chris—"

"No! No. Ren travels a lot for his father's company. He's been in Milan before."

"Do you think he might come here?"

"I don't know. Now that he knows we’re together, that I have a boyfriend, I don’t think so."

***

For the first few weeks after Daniele’s phone call, we were very nervous. Neither Sandro nor I wanted to admit it, but somehow we expected Ren to show up any minute. When nothing happened though, we slowly relaxed. Maybe it hadn't been Ren at the shop after all.

One day Sandro wanted to have dinner at the beach. Matteo being Matteo, he couldn't resist packing a picnic basket for us, including a nice bottle of chilled white wine.

We walked barefoot along the water in search for a nice place to watch the sun set. The still-warm sand felt so good and I tried to avoid the nipping waves. When reached a lifeboat that had been pulled up the beach for the night, Sandro stopped. “What about here? If we spread the blanket beside the boat, it could protect us a little from the evening breeze. It can getting quite cool at this time of year.”

“Okay.”

Sandro spread out the blanket and I secured its corners with our shoes. Some freshly baked garlic bread, a salad with apple-walnut dressing, and a mixed cheese plate later Sandro leaned relaxed against the side of the boat sipping at his glass of wine while I had my head in his lap.

He ran his fingers through my hair and sighed. "Sometimes life is good."

I murmured contently, "Yeah."

For a while we just basked in the last rays of the sun, then he said, "What about we visit Cefalù next weekend? It's a nice city and we could stay at a friend's house there."

"I'd like that."

Suddenly Sandro sat up, almost pushing me from his lap.

"What?"

"There is a guy standing at the end of the beach; he’s been watching us for some time now. He could be the one Daniele talked about, from our shop.”

I looked in the direction Sandro was pointing. There, at the entrance to the parking lot, stood a tall man, wearing all black, his long dark hair fluttering in the wind. He was watching us.

Was it Ren? I stood up to get a better look. When he saw me, he hesitated briefly, then turned around and left.

"Was that him?" Sandro stood behind me.

"I don't know for sure, he was too far away." And then I started to run until I reached the parking lot, only to watch a car pulling out and driving away fast. My heart beat in my throat. I didn't know if it was from running or from the thought it could have been Ren.

Sandro finally reached me, picnic basket and blanket in his hand. "Do you think it was him?"

"I don't know. I couldn't see him clearly, but yeah…I think it could have been him." I was actually sure it was Ren. The way he walked, I just knew it was him.

"You okay?" Sandro gave me the blanket so that he had a free hand to open the door to his car.

I stared out of the window as we both just sat there. "What do you think, why was he here?"

"Maybe he wanted to see for himself…"

"Yeah, maybe.” I turned to him. He was pale and his hands gripped the wheel too hard. “Are you okay?”

“No… not really. Actually, I'm afraid… afraid that one day you’re going to leave me for him. When I saw you running after him…", he whispered, tears in his eyes.

What a fucking mess!

That night, he lay in my arms, pretending to be asleep. But I knew he wasn’t. I could feel his tears on my skin.

***

I was sitting at the wooden table under the olive trees in Matteo and Rick's garden. It felt like years since I had last sat here, writing in my journal at this very place.

The weather forecast said it would be raining today and I could already hear the first drops hitting the leaves above me. I shivered in the suddenly cool wind.

Then I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. Matteo. Who else would notice me outside in the rain? "What are you doing here Jonah, come inside, you're getting all wet."

"In a minute…"

"Come on, why are you sitting here all by yourself anyway?"

"I need to think, to find a solution…" The wind picked up and the roaring surf sounded almost angry.

"Hmm." He settled himself beside me, his big, warm hand on my thigh. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Matteo… I still love Ren."

"I know…"

"He is lost to me. He made it clear when he said those things. I don't want to lose Sandro too. He deserves only the best, not just being second choice. I have to stop my feelings for Ren."

A loud crack sounded. The wind must have snapped off a branch from one of the olive trees.

Matteo tightened his grip on my thigh. "You can't simply decide to stop loving a person Jonah, just because you think it's not appropriate anymore. You can start loving another person though. It's another love, but it's still love."

"After Eric, I needed time to be able to trust again – to trust Ren, but I never knew how equally important it was for him that someone - I – trusted him."

By now the wind was so strong that leaves and small twigs were flying around.

"The whole evening in his house, when he gave you his keys, was about trust. Right?"

"Exactly. And Eric would never have been successful with his plan, had I really trusted Ren. I jumped to conclusions; I was all too ready to believe he cheated on me. I never questioned it. I'm such a terrible, selfish person.” I swallowed, then I whispered, “And I’m so afraid I’ll do it again.”

“Jonah, you can’t force yourself to trust someone either. You know it when it gets tested, like it did in that restaurant.”

“But I should have stayed. I should have talked to him.”

“And maybe you would have eventually, had he not said what he did. Or, you would have gone back home after a month here and then, when you had calmed down, and then talked to Ren... But that’s all water under the bridge now. Fact is, he told Michael he said those things, knowing very well he’d nix any chance of reconciliation. And he never said he was sorry. Right?”

“Not that I know. Michael told me Ren wants to talk to me and I think I’m finally able and ready to do that. I’ll fly home and make him tell me straight to my face why he did it. I want to hear it from him directly, without proxy, in his own words. Maybe then I can finally forget him.”

"I think this is an excellent idea. Did you talk with Sandro about it?"

"Not yet, but I will. Tonight." I stared at a scratch in the wood before me, as it slowly filled with water. "I love Sandro too. When I think about leaving him, it hurts, but when I think about never being with Ren again, it hurts just the same. Is that even possible, Matteo? Or is it only my damned indecisiveness. Maybe I don't know what real love is and in the end I lose both of them. And wouldn’t it serve me right? Maybe they're better off without me." By now the tears were running down my face.

Matteo wordlessly passed me the dishtowel he always had tucked in his belt.

At that moment a small piece of debris hit me in the face. "I wish the ground would simply open up and devour me."

But that would mean I would run away again. Right?

"Yeah, I can imagine that, but playing at being the martyr doesn’t help you. I think you have reached the point where you can face your situation, rather than running away from it." He got up from the bench. “Let’s go inside, Jonah. It’s getting too dangerous out here.”

"Yeah, you’re right. I know what I’m going to do now. Thank you for listening to me, Matteo. Again."

“Always.”

apple-walnut-dressing