“Jesus, you’re so thin!”
We separated and I looked in the direction of the veranda, where my breathtaking mom appeared at the door. She was impeccably dressed and wore full makeup. Like always. I was nothing like her. She had long blond hair and grayish-blue eyes. Despite her age, she still looked no more than thirty, and I bet some twenty-year-olds would kill to have a body like hers.
“Mom!” I spun and ran into her arms, crying uncontrollably.
She was my fallout shelter. I knew she’d protect me from the world. Despite her overprotectiveness, she was my best friend. Nobody knew me like she did.
“See, I told you that trip wasn’t a good idea,” she said, stroking my hair. “You’re crying again. Why are you crying?”
I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t really know.
“I just missed you two. I knew I’d be able to let go of all those emotions crowding in my head.”
“You keep crying like that, your eyes will swell up and you’d have to cry all over again tomorrow when you see yourself in the mirror. Did you take your pills? We don’t want any drama around here,” she said, flicking the hair off my face.
“I did. They’re in my bag,” I replied, wiping my nose.
“Tom.” She turned to my dad. “Grab us some tissues and make tea, would you?”
Dad smiled gently and went inside, while we sat down in soft recliners in the garden.
“So?” Mom asked, lighting a cigarette. “Will you tell me what this is about and why I had to wait so long for you to return?”
I sighed heavily, knowing this conversation wouldn’t be easy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid it, though.
“Mom, I told you I had to fly a bit for my work in Sicily. I needed to get back to Italy for a while and it took longer than I expected. But for now, I’m staying in Poland. At least until the end of September. The company has branches here, too, so I can work in Poland. Besides, I have Italian lessons in Warsaw. So don’t worry, I won’t run off tomorrow. The company cares for me.” I nodded at the BMW parked in the driveway. “They’ve also rented an apartment for me and given me a credit card.”
Mother was looking at me suspiciously, but I didn’t allow the lie to show, and she seemed to accept my story.
“All right, you’ve made me a bit calmer,” she said, pressing the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray. “Now, tell me how it was.”
Dad brought us tea, and I told my parents about Sicily, not skipping the geographical details. Some stories I took from guides I had read. The company I was supposedly working for owned hotels in Venice, too, so I could tell them about Lido and the festival. We sat together for hours and talked until I was too tired to continue.
When I was back in bed, Mom brought me a blanket and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Remember: whatever happens, you’ve got us.” She planted a kiss on my forehead and left, closing the door behind her.
The next few days, Mom took it as her ultimate goal to fatten me up a bit. She cooked and we drank gallons of wine. When Friday came, I thanked God I was going back to Warsaw. One more day and my stomach would have exploded. It’s good that my parents lived by the forest. I could go jogging every day to burn off all the food that Mom had managed to stuff me with. I put on my headphones and sprinted ahead. Sometimes it took an hour, sometimes more. Throughout all this time, I had the feeling of being watched. I would stop and look around, but never saw anyone. I thought about Massimo—whether he was alive and if he was thinking about me, too.
On Friday afternoon, I got into my car and drove back to Warsaw. I called Olga, reporting in.
“Perfect timing! We’re going shopping. I need a new pair of shoes,” she said. “Give me the address and I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“No, I’ll come for you. I have something to do on the way.”
When I arrived at Olga’s, I saw her closing the entrance door and stopping, dumbstruck, in front of my car. She pointed a finger at it, circling the index finger of her other hand above her temple, wide-eyed. As soon as she got in, she cried, “Who gave you that ride?”
“I told you. Got it with the apartment,” I replied, shrugging.
“Now I’m really curious how that apartment of yours looks.”
“Oh, come the fuck on, it’s a regular apartment. And the car’s just a car.” Her reaction got on my nerves, but what pissed me off even more was that I couldn’t tell her the truth. She knew I was lying, and I knew I was making a fool of myself, ignoring the keenness of her intellect. “What’s the difference?” Remember how we lived in that studio at Bródno?”
Olga burst out in laughter and fastened her seat belt.
“Yeah, with that crazy lady downstairs who always accused us of having orgies!”
“That wasn’t entirely unfounded, you know.” I sent her a meaningful look, reversing out of the parking lot.
“I might have moaned a bit loudly once or twice. Don’t make it a big deal.”
“Yeah, I remember getting back home earlier than I said once and thinking someone was torturing you.”
“Oh, right, the little brat that fucked me back then was pretty rough, but his dad had a dentistry clinic.”
“And he got you all the dental checkups for free.”
“What he got me was a fuck so goddamn rough I scratched the plaster off the wall.”
Thank God I managed to change the subject from my apartment and car. For the rest of the way our conversation focused entirely on Olga’s rich sexual life.
Shopping never failed to improve my mood. We ran from boutique to boutique, buying shoes we didn’t need. After a couple of hours of this crazy marathon, we were sated. Back in the multilevel parking lot, we had to find our car. It took a while, but finally we found it and started packing our stuff into the trunk.
“New ride?” I heard a familiar voice from behind.
I turned around and scowled, seeing Martin’s best friend.
“Hi, Michał. What’s up?” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“You tell me. Why did you leave us like that? Martin nearly dropped dead—he was so afraid for you.”
“Yeah, believe me, I know all about just how afraid he was, fucking that Sicilian girl,” I retorted, spinning back around and putting the last bag into the trunk. “He was so concerned that he simply had to blow off some steam, right?”
Michał froze, staring at me with his mouth agape. I closed the distance between us.
“What? You thought I didn’t know? He fucked her on my birthday, the fuck!” I spat angrily and walked to the car door.
“He was drunk,” Michał said, shrugging. I slammed the door in his face.
“Well, now he’s going to know you’re back,” Olga said, fastening her seat belt. “Nice. Love that kind of drama.”
“I don’t. Especially when it concerns me. We’ll go to my place, okay? You’ll stay with me. I don’t want to be alone today.”
Olga nodded and we drove off.
“Fuck me,” said my friend at the sight of the living room, not bothering to sound civil. “And that friend of yours rented it out to you just like that? And he threw in that car, too? Do I know him?”