The legacy

  Over the past two days was found torn between two conflicting ideas. On the one hand he thought that it was necessary to bring it to the news his father, taking courage in both hands and ignoring the embarrassment. Then it would be easier to inform Daniel and accept his happiness. Perhaps he could have let himself be involved, which would transform a concern into a source of joy and hope after the tragedy of the accident. A profound transformation of his life and his future, the second in a short time, but this time in a positive way.

  Another part of her had instead considered the possibility of going to a doctor and show a willingness to have an abortion. He was terrified and morally fought, but was not among those who believed that life began at the exact moment of conception. Not until then, at least. It was nothing more than removing a few cells and only the idea of what they would have generated had to be mental obstacle to the operation. After all, was not convinced of being able to secure a decent future to a new creature and was not required to give birth to a child just because now there . But these were thoughts that felt foreign to him at the very moment in which created them.

  In an attempt to put your heart at rest, had set a deadline. Within a week he made his decision. He knew deep inside that he decided to confide in and Roberto would exclude abortion, but take time to think it made her feel better and gave her the opportunity to prepare for the confrontation. Not to mention, once again, the possibility of unexpected events.

  Among these and other thoughts passed the first hours of the morning, lying on her bed with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. The book that he kept leaning on her lap never moved from the two pages that had been opened earlier. He did not even notice the faint voices that came from the kitchen, where his father, as he had said the previous day, was meeting an old friend of her mother, to have a chat in his memory. Only when he heard them reach the floor above his eye was stimulated. He put aside his thoughts and listened, intrigued.

  "I've never seen it written anywhere" Roberto was saying. The voice seemed to come from the short corridor onto which the three bedrooms and bathroom. "But if he was hiding something, certainly did in our bedroom, in the studio because I kept all my things and I would know, if there was another."

  Hide something? thought Christina, sitting up and feeling my heart would begin to beat faster, without knowing how to explain the reason. He listened and heard the voices came from far away, probably from the bedroom of his parents.

  "You could say that I never opened any drawer and no closet door, but those with my clothes. Let's see if ... "

  Cristina got out of bed. Slowly and trying not to make noise approached the door ajar and peered outside. From his position he saw the bed of her parents and a corner cabinet. His father was looking around inside, while a woman was watching him from behind little more back. Blacks had long hair and was standing with his arms crossed, while the knees are flexed alternately as a sign of agitation or perhaps waiting.

  "Nothing," announced Roberto turning. "We see in his dresser," she added, turning around and bending over the bed to open the drawer lingerie Simona. Erika Cristina turned and saw her face, a woman with the face expression sad and consumed as many years of suffering. He felt he'd already met, but then he made the acquaintance of countless people in the days of the funeral. She moved away from the door in fear of being caught spying.

  Roberto rummaged through her panties and bra of his late wife, then stopped suddenly, staring at the inside of the drawer. He turned and raised his head to Erika, who looked at in turn. Did not exchange any words, but it was obvious that they had understood it anyway.

  ***

  Roberto pulled out the notebook from the drawer of the nightstand Simona. She stared for a moment, holding it between his hands like a fetish, a simple notebook with a pink Hello Kitty on the cover. He closed the drawer and slowly sat down on the bed, without taking your eyes. "You ...? You say this is? "Said Erika.

  "Probably," she said, keeping a distance with his arms folded, as not to disturb the moment of reflection and wonder of Robert. It was obvious that something had changed in him and I certainly had to do with the discovery that Simon was able to keep him another secret. Robert had lived in the certainty of having a transparent relationship with his wife while in a single day had come to the knowledge of past and secrets that even the truth could have imagined.

  "I ..." he stammered, as if unable to move and speak. Then quickly ran the pages of the book with his thumb, and found that almost all were white. Only ten were covered in dense but orderly writing Simona. He closed the book and the cover turned, faced the first page. He glanced at the first lines.

  Erika could not resist the curiosity and approached him, trying to read in turn. But from that distance and with the notebook around with respect to its point of view did not distinguish the words. "May I?" He asked, with some embarrassment, pointing to the bed.

  "It seems like a diary," said Roberto, without responding to his request. "There are no dates, does not speak for itself."

  Erika put aside education and took a seat beside him. He leaned to the side, craning his neck to see better the notebook page, but Roberto closed it as a child that would prevent his classmate to copy during a test at school. "Sorry, I did not want ..." Erika said, drawing back, and blushing. He could not explain what had taken.

  "No, do not mind, 'reassured the Roberto. "It's just ... is for Cristina. It starts with 'Hello, Christine' and not feel like ... "

  "No no no, in fact, I did not want ..."

  "They fought a lot in the days before," he recalled. "Cristina ... Simon told me, that day when ... before the accident he had written that they should talk, explain, make peace ... They never had the chance, but ... I saw that it says here, he says, says she is writing to help you understand and fix the relationship between them. I've only read the first lines. "Robert moved his head slowly, staring at a point on the mat at the foot of the bed and began to cry. "He ... had written what he had to say to Cristina as if ... as if ... he knew . Holy God. "

  Erika instinctively put a hand on the shoulder of Roberto, who was let go for nostalgia. "You should give it to Christine. It is as if Simon did not want to leave without solving their little altercation. "

  Robert nodded through her tears.

  "I'm glad I made sure that we found. My goal was different, but I'm happy for you and Cristina. I hope I can help. E. .. I'm sure Simon was here to guide me in some way, because what he had to say it will reach you. "she cried.

  "I can see it, Dad?" Cristina had appeared suddenly in the doorway. Robert stared with eyes seriously and launched a lightning fast, but look at Erika, transformed suddenly into an intruder in the privacy of their family torn apart by grief.

  Robert raised his head, trying to hold back tears. Without hesitating, stretched out his arm and handed the book to his daughter. Cristina took it almost eagerly opened it and, beginning to enjoy reading without even time to move into his room or at least to sit down.

  "I ... maybe I'd better go, "he apologized Erika, rising. "I do not want ..."

  "No," Robert stopped her, holding it by the arm. "Wait. Had it not been for you I probably would have found that copybook in years, I ... I decided not to touch anything in the stuff Simon, out of respect and because I would not have the right emotion. I wish it had expected, could be written something that only you can tell, you that you have known in those years. "He emphasized the last words with a look, not to mention having to explicitly in front of Cristina Simona experience with Fabrizio.

  But Cristina was lost in reading. His expression grew darker, line by line, page after page. It took about ten minutes to read everything, which meant they had devoured the words to the impatience of knowing. When he looked up and stared at his father for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open as if he had anything to say.

  Robert and Erika, her very uncomfortable, tried to read his face, but they found nothing apparent anger. The last thing I had expected. "So?" Asked Roberto
at the end.

  That word seemed to distract Cristina by deep reflection. He shook his head with a smile of incredulity, and violently threw his notebook on the ground. The pages fluttered and folded sprawled against the carpet before the astonished eyes of Robert and Erika.

  Cristina turned and ran out of room. A few seconds later came down to the floor wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers. Roberto, motionless, as if hypnotized by the sight of Hello Kitty notebook yet left the ground, he heard the door slam violently, and soon after, Cristina's car that was set in motion in the garage.

  ***

  Erika did not move, resisting the temptation to pick up the book and leaf through it with all the inner strength he could muster. He was eager to read the last confession of Simon and at the same time he was distressed by the truth that it could have emerged if the feedback of Cristina. Such a step could not be linked only to discover that his mother had become pregnant as a girl, something that undoubtedly had been touched in the story.

  Roberto was holding her hands between her legs and rubbed with the nervousness, as volendole retain in turn collect from the book and open his personal Pandora's box. He was sweating profusely, his hair plastered to his forehead and temples, and the look like a man on the verge of total decline, straddling the border between reason and insanity.

  "I ..." ventured Erika, putting aside for a moment his sense of strangeness to the situation, his impression of having autoinvitata that terrible party and then not having a say. The fact was that was coming up the terrible suspicion that Christina might have overreacted and put in danger.

  "Yes," Roberto said tersely. "Read it yourself, please."

  "It's not that ..." Erika is still justified, as if still did not feel fully authorized. "Only I would not want Cristina ..."

  "Read, please," repeated Bob. "I ... I never understood his writing. "

  Erika did not need to repeat once more, leaned over and picked up the notebook. The thought that those sheets of paper had been one of the last things affected by Simona, that perhaps there were microscopic particles lodged in his skin, to her , caused her a tremendous bout of nostalgia. But it was not the right time to let go: Simona had something to tell, and she and Robert had to listen carefully.

  " Hello, Cristina , "he began, reading from the first row. It is conveniently placed next to Roberto, who listened with a lost look, ready for the worst. " I wanted to tell this story in person, but I'd never heard, and, anyway, I would have never believed. I ask you to get to the end of these pages, and only after making comments. You'll want to stop and insult me, but please do not do it and read.

  " Last Friday, our lives are forever changed and it was because of that very brief visit your boyfriend Daniel. It's not like you think, I'm not looking for the umpteenth time to tell you that I do not like, for some a priori maternal fear. Unfortunately the truth is another, much more complex and problematic. And potentially lethal . "

  ***

  From time to time, on Friday afternoon, Olga takes half a day of rest, during which he meets with other women Ukrainian immigrant. This does not happen every week, even though it's his right, because she is convinced that showing tied to his lady to the point of giving up the free afternoon will be considered successful and worthy by Simon and Roberto, who might recommend it to friends when Isa will lacking. What Olga hopes to be far from the place, but must take into account, if he thinks the precariousness of his position and the poverty that afflicts his family at home.

  Today is one of those Friday when he decided to take a break. Simon has previously warned that he did so to be free from work to pay attention to his mother. I am a little after five, and both are in the kitchen of Simona. Isa is casually flipping through the pages of a gossip magazine. He forgot his glasses at home and barely distinguishes the figures, but sometimes some of it is sharp enough and interesting enough to exchange a few pleasant remarks with his daughter.

  Simon is busy with household chores and, after preparing the washing machine upstairs, is focusing on ironing the clothes just retired from the dryer. She's happy to spend extra time with her mother, she never stopped loving her, despite having changed his attitude towards him as the events of life made her discover sides of his personality which was not fully 's agreement.

  However, since in recent years, Isa began to age visibly, as if every day your body builds up on the labors of a lifetime, Simon has found fewer arguments and less desire to share to do so, because the new version of her mother inspires a certain awe. He has the impression of being in front of a person away from her, like a wise wizard village worthy of reverence. Even his mother is less talkative and sometimes seems embarrassed, as if he opened his mouth only to hide the moments of silence that occur between them.

  Olga will not return before ten o'clock in the evening. Isa will stop for dinner and will accompany his daughter home from Roberto, and returned home when the caregiver is ready to take care of her. She herself can not bear to have decreased as well, often confided to Simon: he has never borne the idea of ​​depending on others and be a ball and chain. "But what can I do?" He says in those cases, as if to justify. "Life has given me this destiny. I'm fine too, if you think about it. Dad went to worse, to die so young. "Yet, sometimes wonders whether it is worse to be old and disabled than to die at sixty.

  The monotony of the afternoon undergoes a sharp turn when the doorbell rings. Isa, who barely heard him, with interest and concentration is staring at a page depicting glossy actress topless. Simon looks up from the shorts that are stretching and trying to recognize through the window and over the driveway in front of the figure at the gate house. Two people, actually, and one is Cristina. "But he has the keys?" He asks, approaching the gate of the switch.

  "Who is it?" Croaks distractedly Isa, without diverting his attention from the magazine.

  "The Cristina" says Simon, coming from the kitchen to go to open the door. A distant, invisible alarm siren works its way inside her. Not describe the feeling, but imagine comes from the thought of just before, namely that Cristina would have to carry house keys and if it is not ... and then in theory was supposed to go home by bus, not before six.

  While opening the door does not imagine that those worries are nothing compared to what awaits. His life is about to change forever.

  ***

  'Well?' Cries, addressed to Cristina.

  She has just entered the gate, followed by a boy. Beyond, parked in the mall at the roadside in front of the house, there's a smart black and gray that Simona has never seen before: it must be a new friend Cristina. "Now I'll explain" the shouts in response, his eyes close to the reflection of the sun and a smile that would be contagious and calming, but has no effect on his mother.

  "What has happened?" Simon asks again, strangely worried. Not like her, she realizes herself.

  "Nothing, nothing, quiet," says Cristina, approaching, closely followed by the boy, who for now remains behind him, hidden from view by Simona. "I forgot the keys in the language lab and came back to find them, but they had already closed. So meanwhile, I also lost the shuttle which brings me to the bus park. Luckily I called Daniel, who accompanied me home. "

  Simon did not look away from Christine, who is now in front of her. He shakes his head and looks at her with disapproval, but there is no real reproach in his eyes. "How many times have you told your dad to be careful with the keys? Now ... "

  "Now nothing, the lab is closed until Monday and Monday morning I dashed there at once, however if the technician finds something keeps him aside." He pauses of silence, then seems to remember Daniel, who stands there in silence next, as an obedient dog. "In all ways, he was kind enough to take on in the car and take me home to Parma, now that arrives, and rush hour traffic is a mess. We can ... it may come a moment that I will offer at least a glass of water. "

  "No problem," he assures Simona, only now shifting his eyes to the boy. "In fact, thanks and sorry if ..." She stops abruptly. Her stomach is contracted an
d the body is paralyzed. What I see is too unbelievable to be true and it is this observation that allows you to temporarily recover and find the strength to continue. "Scusala."

  "All right, Mom?" Asked Cristina, noticing his sudden loss.

  "Yes," reassures Simon turned and preceding them in the house. "Come ahead," he adds, giving back to them and hoping they are not longer in front of Fabrizio next time you will turn to look at them.

  ***

  Isa is too concentrated to the difficult task of deciphering the black spots that appear before him and that should compose the words of a gossip magazine article, to pay interest in what happens at a short distance from her. Only when she saw Simon back in the kitchen looks up and glances diverted to the two people standing at the entrance.

  "Hello, Grandma 'greets Cristina, deliberately taking a tone of voice very high, despite Isa has never given reason to think that even weak hearing.

  "Hello, darling," the answer, but there is sweetness in his words, just routine. Go back and read the paper, but not before noticing a particularly strange. He decides to ignore it and engage in gossip.

  "Come, sit back" Simona invites children. "There is some 'confusion there because I'm arranging things, but ... What can I offer? "

  "No, I ..." Daniel began, apparently uncomfortable.

  "But by 'Christine prompts him. "Have a drink. A drop of water. "

  "Yes, okay, just a glass, but I prefer to leave right away that maybe I avoid leaving the job."

  Simona wants to avoid watching it, but can not help himself. And in spite of just the first impression is confirmed: Daniel is a perfect copy of Fabrizio, the boy with whom she shared a terrifying experience twenty-two years ago. The same physical structure, the same facial features, the same hair. He is not smiling, but she is sure that if it did would expose the bewitching smile that well in my memory. Even her voice sounds familiar.