LIQUID BALANCE

Chapter eighteen

The days had passed slowly, Elizabeth was often confined to the toilet, chewed incessantly liquorice and honestly looked more like a martyr than a mother.

The relationship between them, however, had calmed down incredibly, they often laughed at the continuous attacks of nausea, hypothesizing a strong-willed fetus that already in its first hours of life showed absolute strength to live.

We talked about him or her with great affection, together, creating love for him and through him on us like the reflection of the sunbeam hitting crystal clear water.

The girls had turned their noses up at the news, then seeing that mom didn't seem to be in great health, they were more concerned than excited.

However, we were already transformed into a family, the affection, the intimacies of sharing were already unique, just ours. The little secrets, the intimate smells, accepted with the benevolent smile of love. The safeguarded spaces of each one so that they could be shared profitably for others.

The lunches dense with the cheerful chatter of the young ladies of the house, who from day to day became familiar with the new ways, taking them on as their own inextricably. How could Elizabeth have imagined that I would deprive myself of this? Of the mischievous smiles when they purposely tested my patience, and then embraced me with their Italian warmth. For never had I found such a rhythm of joy, imagination, and sparkle, in my countrymen. Or perhaps because they were women deprived of love, now they bestowed it with the modesty of those who approach the essence of life anew. With stuttering modesty combined with simple happiness in a rapturous union.

I felt myself inside their hearts, even Elizabeth's, on the long nights, hugging just the two of us.

That she would no longer tell me that we were not compatible, that I, despotic, would always dominate her.

She was the puppet master.

I was happy. Yes I was happy.

And surprised that happiness was the wind in the willows, light and gentle buzzing of leaves on a spring morning by the keto river.

That happiness was to be aware of sounds, and discover that the world is full of them and redundant, of light sounds; that happiness was to be aware of colors, and discover that they permeated every corner, and wherever I turned my eye, I caught the nuances of the rainbow, and to realize that my happiness was full of Elizabeth's perfume, of that perfume that had made her unique to me, of that balm for discount stores with the smell of coconut. For love, I had searched for it with stubbornness in Vienna, to give my nostrils the scent that for me was her.

And slipping between the expertly folded, smoothed and cleaned blankets and sinking into the smell of her on the pillows. This enraptured and heartened me, convincing me that life was beautiful. So simply beautiful.

And day after day I would see her inside and be amazed.

Her candor and good-naturedness were those of a noblewoman, so clean that malicious thoughts were simply inconceivable to her.

I would have always wanted her by my side, because she would always tell me the truth. And there's nothing more satisfying than mirroring yourself in a real mirror.

Race days had arrived, they had all attended to me, and the girls' names were written on the left side of the car, in cursive, to honor their efforts to wait for me in the pits, over the past week, every day.

They had been loving and present, I had reserved the VIP grandstand for them so they could see the race entirely with a perfect view.

I had equipped all three of them, with appropriate hats and ladylike binoculars.

And I scrutinized my female troop with pride and sweetness.

They I imagine scrutinized me and the car with equal reverence.

I was in the pits, we were going to start in 1 hour, on the grid I was among the first, because of the excellent times of the previous days' tests.

They gave me strength and acceleration.

to be continued