Chapter Text
„You can‘t have your spaceship. You‘ll let it fall and disturb Elio. And he has to concentrate a lot…“
Elio interrupted Marzia:
„Give Julien his spaceship. I won‘t hear anything when I‘m playing. The library could catch fire and I wouldn‘t notice.“
They were standing in a small room off the cloister of Bergamo Humanities library which functioned as an open-air concert hall tonight. Julien fiddled with the hem of Marzia‘s pink dress and looked shily up to Elio.
„You can‘t expect a child to survive a whole piano recital without his spaceship“, he said again.
Marzia began to rummage in her enormous white bag. Once, this had been her personal space, for her camera and other necessities. Now, she had to dig through pacifiers, chocolates, lollipops, wipes and various small or not so small toys. She found the lego toy and gave it to Julien who remarked:
„There‘s a whole wing missing.“
Marzia sighed and looked for a place to put down her bag. Elio was already in his concert attire as the recital was about to start in a few minutes. Marzia wouldn‘t take photos while he played tonight – they already had had a leisurely photo session this morning when he tried out the piano (the photo of him leaning relaxed against one of the pillars of the arcades should adorn his next CD, but they both didn‘t know yet), followed by a long lunch for just the two of them. Marzia‘s youngest one was left behind with her parents, the other two explored Bergamo with her husband. Now, the whole family was here, to Marzia‘s distress. She didn‘t want Julien to distract Elio, especially as they had seats in the front. Elio sensed her unease and said:
„Listen, why don‘t we ask Oliver to sit with Julien somewhere in the back? He could get up when he wants and crawl on the floor a bit or whatever. And Oliver doesn‘t mind, he‘s heard my program often enough.“
„Doesn‘t he want to sit in the front?“
„Sometimes, but he told me seats are rare today. He went to get more chairs, and as I know him, he‘ll linger somewhere in the back and stand all the time in order to let someone else have his seat.“
In this second Oliver appeared, dapper and elegant in a blue Italian suit. Julien dashed to him, cried „Olivier!“ and hugged one of his legs.
„Will you take care of Julien during the concert? There was a discussion about spaceships…“
„Of course, of course.“ Regardless of his fine clothes, Oliver lifted Julien up into his arms. „I know the perfect place for us to watch. Come on.“
Stepping to Elio to kiss him briefly, he told him:
„The chairs are still in the same room.“ Elio raised his eyebrows and hid a grin. „Play well, my darling.“ Elio patted Oliver‘s arm and watched the two disappear.
„You‘ve been here before?“, Marzia asked. Elio nodded: „Twenty years ago. Research for Oliver‘s book.“
„Research?“ Marzia repeated. „All right. See you afterwards, chéri.“
*
After the concert, their large group of friends and family celebrated with an elaborate meal at a restaurant Samuel and Annella had suggested. They beamed, glad to have Elio and Oliver around, and overlooked proudly the long table the restaurant had assembled to accomodate their group. The guests were animated and noisy, but Elio, sitting opposite Oliver, heard Oliver‘s sonorous voice well over the chatter of other patrons when he told the story of the chairs to Annella who was sitting next to Elio:
„And when I went to look for chairs, I found them in a beautiful ancient vaulted room off the cloister. I mean, this room could be transferred to the Metropolitan and people would pay to see it – and here they use it as storage? Pillars and vaults and all?“ Annella shrugged. Oliver looked at Elio over the glowing candles on the table when he continued: „And there was one particular column, a bit in the back, that looked – uneven, special somehow. When I looked at it, I felt: it has a story to tell. The column has seen a lot in his long life…“ Oliver felt a shoe kicking his foot. Elio scrunched his nose at him and interrupted him:
„But on to more mundane details – maman, we decided to stay in the „Agnello d‘oro“ for one more night, for private nostalgic reasons.“
„Bien sur“, Annella smiled. „But how do you get back, shall we pick you up tomorrow?“
Elio shook his head and tenderly fondled Oliver‘s foot with his:
„Oliver wants to get the whole experience, you know. Take the blue bus back again. Even if he get‘s sick probably in all those serpentines.“
„That‘s the price for nostalgia!“, Samuel interjected. „You call us from the bar and we‘ll pick you up in Crema, all right?“