Chapter 36
For any mere mortal the splendid collection of expensive boats and their drivers would have generated awe. For the inhabitants of the Fondamenta Bollani it wasn't an unusual sight and hardly worth mentioning. For the tired teenager they only meant that he was late - too late.
He knocked and the door was opened mere seconds later by Violetta, who rather looked anxious and relived than pleased to see him.
„About time that you come home, master Scipio. Your father is not amused. Most of the guests have already arrived." She greeted him gruffly. She hated it, when too many guests ran around in the house and dirtied everything. She knew even with the hired helps she would spend at least two days alone on removing all traces of this party on top of her daily duties.
Laughter and bits of conversation, that drifted through the wide open doors into the hall that connected the crowded prestigious rooms, underlined her observation.
But Scipio only shrugged and passed her. If he was lucky, he could get up to his room without being noticed by guests or his father and take a long reviving shower. And then he might have just enough energy to face him and his reproaches. He turned towards the small staircase that would lead to the rooms upstairs and that was now blocked by a thick red cord. A help almost ran him over in his haste to bring cool drinks. This minor incident caused enough of a commotion to alert his father of his presence, who excused himself from his guests to walk up to his son and lead him aside before too many guests saw him in his state and could start to comment unfavourably.
"Where have you been now? I instructed Adriano to tell you to come home immediately after class."
"He did. But I had to do other things first."
„And what might that have been? Gallivanting half-naked through the city?"
„So what? Let them look as much as they want. I'm hot. I sat eight hours in an overcrowded train with defective air conditioning and had afterwards two excruciating hours of dance class."
„I see that you look like a right mess. You go take a shower this instant. And if you had come immediately home, you would have been able to rest for at least an hour. But no, my precious son had to have his own way."
„Yes, father. May I go now?"
Lorenzo nodded.
"Hurry up, your guests are waiting for you."
"My guests?"
"Certainly. We're having a family party to liven up the dull summer spell. I don't know how many teenagers run around here. You will take care of them. One can hardly expect me to talk to a 15 years old about Hiphop or whatever it is what you call music these days."
Scipio nodded and in turning around to head for the stairs he couldn't stop himself to give him a parting shot.
„By the way: hello to you, too, father. Yes, thank you, I had a fine time in Switzerland. It's so nice of you to ask." He mocked.
His father's mine got darker.
"I see you intend to pick up right where you left upon your departure."
"I can only return the compliment, father."
Scipio turned again and went upstairs leaving an angry Lorenzo Massimo behind. A hand laid on his shoulder from behind.
"Well, didn't you wish for Scipio to turn into a rebellious teenager to see, if there's life in the boy? Looks to me, that you've got your wish granted." He could hear the smile in Marlena's voice.
"Yes, and what's the old saying again? Be careful what you wish for?" He sighed.
"He's growing up, Lorenzo. The time has come for him to lock horns with you to prove his strength. And I think he has a lot to prove to you and mostly to himself."
"Well, if he looks for battle, he can have it with me. He won't know what hit him. I'm going to…" he bit the words out.
Marlena stepped around him to face him. She laid a hand over his mouth.
"Ssh…you will be right here and fight with him. That's right. But, Lorenzo, please, try to hold back a bit. He needs to know that he can stand up to you. He needs to know that he's important enough to you to let him fight with you. He needs to know that you start to take him seriously. He needs to know that he becomes a man in your eyes, too. Please, Lorenzo."
Lorenzo closed his eyes on her touch and let her words sink into him. She smiled when his mouth curved under her hand into a smile.
"You're probably right, Marlena. Let's head back to our guests."
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A short while later Scipio returned from upstairs. His hair was still slightly damp, but now he dressed in clean dark linen trousers and a white crisp shirt with short sleeves and black polished shoes. He stepped up to the small group of adults consisting of his father's friends, business partners and many new faces that were gathered around their charming and charismatic host. In the corner of the other room across the hall with the fountain, farthest away from the adults, he saw a very large group of teenagers, mostly girls he noticed in passing. His guests he presumed. But first he had to make his rounds among the adults to greet them ad pay them the proper respect.
"There you are. Your father told us, you just returned from a youth camp in Switzerland. How did you like it?" The vice-questore addressed him after the usual round of greetings.
"I had a marvellous time, thank you."
"Ah yes, these youth camps. I can still remember the one I went to once. The first time away from home and then the girls, having your first cigarette….."
"Getting drunk…." Another chimed in.
"Yes…the most fun we had when we tried to outsmart the personnel and sneak into the girl's room or tried to have a date behind the kitchen hut or having a stroll at midnight in the woods." More warmed up to the topic and pulled up old, half-forgotten memories.
"I remember being on our own and a bit naughty. Doing things we were too shy and too good to try at home."
"And have you been a good boy?" The jovial and loud head of the bakers' guild patted heavily Scipio's shoulder on a laugh. Lorenzo carefully disguised a grimace. He didn't particularly liked the man, but he had three pretty daughters of Scipio's age, who were also present.
"That depends on your definition of being good. I didn't start smoking, didn't get drunk or experimented with drugs and kept my hands off the girls." He winked and then looked at this father under his lashes, who looked decidedly ill at ease.
The head started to laugh boomingly and patted Scipio again, who winced a bit under the man's heavy hand.
"Smart boy." He paid compliments. "If my father would breathe down my neck, I'd say the same. But still I reckon, you were hell on the ladies anyway…"
"No, weren't to my liking, I'm afraid."
"My, aren't we picky…."
"Yes. I only want the best...After all, I've got a LOT to offer..." There was a decidedly naughty expression on Scipio's face.
And the head of guild got red in the face from laughing so hard, while the others smiled or laughed softly.
"And what are you going to do with the rest of your holidays, young man?"
"Hang out with my friends, I guess."
"I'm afraid there's not much time for this. He's got dance class and he's going to attend cooking class, too. Starting tomorrow morning." Lorenzo interrupted.
"I will?" Scipio was surprised and annoyed. What else had his father decided behind his back for him during his absence?
"You will. It's time you learn how to fend for yourself. The time's over, when we changed from our mother's kitchen into the kitchen of our wife. I want him to leave the house, have a little flat somewhere and sow his wild oats before he'll marry. And during that time I don't want him to live on fried eggs and the pizza service. So it's cooking class for you, my son."
"He will probably the only boy among a flock of girls and young women. Think you can handle them, my son?" the baker asked with a large smile on his face.
"I'll think I'll manage as long as they don't think I'm on the menu as well." Scipio answered according to this role.
The man got hiccups from laughing. But here and there speculative looks were exchanged among the flock of guests.
"I keep telling you, the boy's right. The boy's right I say."
The wife of the director of a lace manufactory on Burano spoke up.
"You know, this is an excellent idea. I'll have Marco join, too." She addressed a waiter and ordered him in a low voice to go find her son for her and bring him to them.
"And what comes next for him, Lorenzo? Sewing class?" Amused laughter erupted spontaneously.
"If it's necessary." Lorenzo shot Scipio a glance that communicated a different message. "I can't have him run around with buttons missing, can I?"
Smirking Scipio listened in for a moment as his father was assailed by the leader of the Liberals in Venice to run for office as a beacon of modern times and a man of vision for the 21st century.
"…..Have dinner with us next week. My wife and the girls will be delighted, won't we, Carmen?" His wife being used to business dinners and constant invitations nodded dutifully. Even if Lorenzo Massimo wouldn't let himself be used for the party, it would still help her husband's political aspirations to count Lorenzo Massimo among their political friends. Despite of having no intentions to leave the political shadows Lorenzo nodded and accepted the invitation only because of the girls of the house.
Using the quiet moment, when he wasn't the centre of attention, Scipio addressed a man, who stood a bit apart from all the others, observing them thoughtfully – signor Venturi. Maybe this was a good opportunity to prepare the field, so to speak and sow the seed of knowledge and familiarity in the Venturi family as being a part of Annamaria's life.
"Signor Venturi, I'm pleased to meet you again. I haven't seen your wife and daughter yet. Surely they're also here?" He pretended to look around again.
"My wife and youngest daughter spend every summer holidays in a nunnery. I don't expect them back before the last day of the holidays." He explained to Scipio and any of the other guests who bothered to listen in.
"Oh yes, I remember. Annamaria mentioned spending some time in the nunnery when we last spoke."
"You've met my daughter since?"
Scipio nodded and tried to play it cool and a bit indifferent..
"Venice is only a small town, signore. Everybody bumps constantly into anybody. From time to time I meet Annamaria and we exchange a few words."
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of another youth of maybe 18 years with dark hair and blonde tips – Marco, who listened patiently to his mother's idea and shot then a long look at Scipio, before he started to smile softly, which turned quickly boastfully, when he felt his mother's penetrating gaze on him.
"Cooking class? Great idea, mom. I can't leave the man here all alone with the girls. Someone's got to help him." He laid for a moment his arm around Scipio's shoulders and squeezed his biceps, beaming at him.
Scipio smiled in return. Had that been a carefully disguised caress of his hand, when he had dropped his arm again? He wasn't sure.
"I'd be delighted, Marco."
Lorenzo looked alarmed. Weren't their smiles just a tad too welcoming?
"Ahm….I think….the class is already fully booked, I'm afraid." He invented on the spur of a moment. He didn't want the other boy to distract his son from the girls.
"Oh, what a pity." Marco's mother sighed.
"Off you go, you two. Scipio, your guests are waiting." Lorenzo reminded his son of his duties.
Obediently the boys said goodbyes and walked over to the other room to mingle with their people of the same age. From time to time Lorenzo checked upon Scipio and smiled satisfied, when he saw his son speaking to different girls, cracking jokes to make them laugh and having apparently a good time. But his last patrol found his son missing – and the boy Marco, too. Alarmed he began to search the place and found Scipio sitting on the balustrade of the narrow balcony that stretched across the entire width of the casa. Marco stood in front of him. Apparently they had tried to escape the almost stifling heat within the house that couldn't be dispelled by the many ventilators. Stepping closer to the open door he listened in.
Scipio sipped his orange juice, while Marco swirled thoughtfully his glass of light red wine and then offered some to Scipio who shook his head.
"Thanks, but one sip and you can carry me upstairs and tuck me in." He joked.
"It would be my pleasure." Marco smiled warmly and hopped up onto the balustrade to sit close to Scipio.
A bit spooked Scipio didn't know what to reply. His instincts told him to tell Marco in no uncertain terms that he was barking up not alone the wrong tree, but that said tree also stood in the wrong forest. But on the other side, if he wanted to make his father and the Venturis believe he preferred boys over girls, he should at least try to look flattered. Eventually he just smiled a bit shyly at Marco and looked down into his glass.
"You know, this wine is really good." Marco spoke up again.
"Thank you. It's from my uncle's vineyard in Trentino.We still get some crates every year despite of my parents being divorced. If you want, I can give you the address and tell him to give you a good price."
"That would be nice." Marco searched for a safe topic. "So, it'll be your final year at our cherished school? Already thought about the elective course? I recommend something easy. That'll help you to concentrate on the important courses. For instance I took art history with old signor Maldesi. He goes easy on you in the final year and won't expect much more than regular presence in his class. You'll get a good grade for free. On top it always makes a good impression, if you can tell a Raffael from a Botticelli."
"I've heard that advice before. Yet I thought about picking up another language."
"I see. Each to his own."
They fell silent. Scipio thought about returning to the party. It was fun contrary to his earlier expectations and he felt awkward in Marco's presence. Marco thought about how he could make Scipio stay a bit longer on the balcony with him. There was something about the other that intrigued him.
"Well, don't come running to me to complain, if it'll get too much." He joked.
"Don't worry, I won't."
Marco's face fell a bit. That had been quite clear, but maybe a last attempt wouldn't hurt.
"So, cooking class for you, eh? It's actually really not a bad idea. Although I don't understand why you can't learn from your cook. Me, I've got a small flat over at Mestre and sometimes it would be really nice to know how to handle more than the microwave in the kitchen after a long day in the office. They always say Mestre has no style, but it's not that bad a part of Venice after all. At least not where I live. I have a really spectacular view over thelaguna and La Serenissima, especially at night…Perhaps you would like to see it one day or better night?" Marco didn't even try to disguise the eager hope in his voice.
Scipio looked up. Playing a role was one thing, but this went too far. He opened his mouth, when he saw something that changed his mind – his father and from his look he was eavesdropping. Well, he would make it easier for him.
"Thanks, Marco. That's really nice of you." He smiled warmly. "Perhaps I will take you up on your offer. But I'm pretty much involved…. . I don't have much time." He answered pretty loudly.
Marco nodded sadly.
"You're already together with someone, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Marco."
"That's okay. No real harm done."
Scipio gave him another friendly smile before he hopped down.
"Let's go back inside and play our roles of straight guys?"
Marco nodded before he held Scipio back.
"Look, I don't know what game you're playing here, but I can tell that you're not completely playing for our team."
Scipio panicked. His father was still there and he could hear every word they spoke.
"What? Me and girls?! You're mad." Scipio snorted a bit forced. What could he say to convince them?
"Hey, easy. I'm just making a mere observation. It took me a while to figure it out, but now I think I've got it."
"Well, whatever you think you've observed or think you've figured out, it's wrong! I'm not interested in girls. I'm in love with a boy. And we're very happy with each other. He's everything I could ever hope for. He's everything I wish I could be. He's my other half and the light that brightens up my life." Scipio answered fiercely.
"Me thinks, the boy doeth protest too much." Marco smiled. "Hey, look, it's nothing you have to be ashamed of, being attracted to girls, too, that is. Maybe your heart says you're into boys, but your head isn't completely convinced yet. I had girl-friends, too, before I realised that I'm ultimately gay. Don't suppress the part in you that is intrigued by girls. Give yourself some time to sort yourself out."
"I don't suppress anything and I don't have to sort myself out. I know to whom I belong – to him. And nothing can change that." Scipio said resolutely. This conversation was over for him.
"Scipio…" Marco wanted to say so much more, but eventually he just shook his head. Everyone had to follow his own star. "Just let's go back."
Hastily Lorenzo stepped away from the door and headed back to his guests. His face barely betrayed the turmoil of thoughts. Was Marco right? Was Scipio just one confused teenage boy who mistook admiration for another boy for love? He felt hope and fresh determination to convert his son.
To be continued...
Oh, what a tangled web we weave...