“I missed you. Anthony doesn’t seem like very good company.” I gesture to him and Gio smiles.
“We had a big dinner. I told him he could go to bed, but he insisted on staying to hear me play.”
“He is very loyal to you.”
“Yes, he is. I’m very fortunate. Let me take your things.” He stands and sets aside the instrument so that he may greet me with a kiss. He takes my jacket from where I’ve slung it over my arm and sets my leather bag next to the recliner where I sometimes work. “May I fix you a drink?” he asks while I undo the top few buttons of my shirt.
“Yes, please. An Amaro Lucano.” I hand him the key to the liquor cabinet, which is kept locked in my absence. “I’ll be out on theloggia. Come find me when you’re done. There is something we need to discuss.”
“Uh oh,” he says darkly but continues to the bar. I gently wake Anthony and tell him I’m home, that he can go sleep in the bedroom we keep for him when he stays the night or return to his apartment in town. Then I go outside to the courtyard and collapse onto one of the chairs.
“Sir,” Gio says and offers me the drink with a small bow. Once I’ve taken it from him, he folds a towel on the cobblestone so that he may kneel at my side. I sip at the bittersweet liqueur, enjoying the earthy root flavor and the subtle notes of citrus.
“Guess who I talked to today?” I ask.
“Master?” he says with a hopeful note.
“No, Giovanni. I spoke with Efisio Esposito, president of the Socratic Society. He left a message with my assistant, so I called him back this evening on my way to dinner with Leandro.”
“Oh,” he says as his gaze drops to his lap.
“Oh is right. Is there anything you’d care to share with your Sir?”
I expect him to dodge and evade my question, as he sometimes does when caught in a lie, but he lifts his chin and says in a forthright way, “They were pressuring me to enroll this fall, and while the idea is tempting, it’s too soon.”
“So, you told them I wouldn’t allow it?”
“They wouldn’t have understood, Sir. Their lives are… normal. They go on dates and weekend trips to Amalfi and Capri. They gossip with friends and don’t fall apart over little things. They don’t have a fucking glass box they must go into when they are feeling suicidal.”
His shoulders slump in defeat, his expression one of overwhelming sadness.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I remind him.
“I am well aware of my weaknesses and limitations, and I didn’t want my newfriendsto know what a basket case I am, especially over a text in a fucking group chat.”
It is all very understandable, but I still don’t appreciate being framed as the bad guy.
“You could have called Efi and told him your reasons. We could have visited the mainland if you’d have preferred explaining it to him in person.”
He blinks at me. “Did you tell him the truth?”
“No. That is not my responsibility.”
He sighs, looking remorseful. “I’m sorry, Sir, for lying to Efi and for not admitting my transgression promptly. I have not been demonstrating my virtues lately.”
“It’s okay, Gio. Sir has a solution in mind to help you make it right. It involves dinner with Efi tomorrow night.”
He lays a hand on my lap, looking panicked. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course, I will. I’m here to support you, remember?”
He nods, flashing me a cautious smile. “Thank you for your patience, Sir, and your guidance. This boy would be lost without you.”
“I want to help you, Giovanni, in whatever way I can, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll try to be better.”
15
