“Okay,” she said, and kissed him. “Then I’ll go.”
* * *
THINGS RINALDO DAMIANI KNOWS:
Quantum physics, or something. Regan doesn’t totally understand it, but whatever it is, Aldo knows it. He certainly knows calculus, algebra, most of the things that come after calculus and algebra, all of the things that come before. He knows some degree of physics, doesn’t care for it; the fact that things work is less important to him than the idea of what he could convince to work if he thought about it hard enough. He knows about the scrapes, the scars on her body, he knows how often she eats and how much, he knows she dislikes goat cheese unless he pairs it with something sweet. He knows how to box, has shown her how, has known enough to stand still and say: Hit me here, it won’t hurt, I’ll block it if I need to. He knows how to defend himself, and here again is the irony: He hates physics, but he understands physicalities. He knows the angle to hold her hips. He knows how deeply he can fill her, how hard before it hurts. He knows this expression of hers means not now I’m thinking, he knows this one means yes now but one second, he knows this one means don’t bother speaking, just take off your clothes, I don’t know why you wear them. He knows her relationships are complicated. He knows whose calls she takes and which ones she ignores. He knows, as her doctor doesn’t know, that she isn’t taking her pills. He knows that she hears her mother’s voice in her head and sometimes she loses her own voice inside it; he knows she finds it again when he takes her face in his hands and says: Are you in there? He knows so much; he knows almost everything. Likewise, she knows he is a genius.
Things Rinaldo Damiani doesn’t know:
“Charlotte. Are you there? I called two weeks ago, you haven’t called back, I called Marc and he told me you moved out. What are you thinking?” “Charlotte, just calling to check in, you missed your last appointment. Please do call to reschedule.” “Char, Mom’s freaking out, just call her back. Tell Aldo I say hi. Carissa’s asking if you’ll be here for Christmas? You’d better, or I think Mom’s going to explode. Not joking.” “Hello, this message is for Charlotte Regan from Dr.—’s office, please call us at your earliest convenience.” “Regan, this is so you, honestly. If you’ve come to your senses, you know how to find me.” “Regan! I’m in town until Christmas, want to get lunch? I know, I know, I haven’t been the best at keeping in touch, but we should totally get a drink or something.” “Wow, I can’t believe you called back, a miracle. Sorry, I was working a long shift but listen, I really don’t want to be the one who tells Mom. Is there any way you can like, you know, not? I’m happy you’re happy with Aldo and that you’re alive but Char, truly, you can’t think this is the best way to go about this.” “Charlotte, of course we can find a replacement while you’re away—the holidays are a difficult time. Looking forward to seeing you upon your return! As for classes, I’ll get in touch with someone at the Institute, I’m sure we can work something out.” “Hi, this message is for Regan, the book you requested on figure drawing is in, you have five days to pick it up.” “Regan, babe, ran into that sorority sister of yours—Sophie? Samantha? Whatever, she said she called to tell you she was in town and you never called back. I’m a little worried about you, not going to lie. Sorry about the text the other night, I was blasted out of my fucking mind, but look, I still care about you. Just tell me you’re okay.” “CHARLOTTE, WHY DO WE PAY FOR A PHONE IF YOU NEVER BOTHER TO ANSWER IT?”
“Hey,” Aldo said, nudging her. “You alright?”
“Just thinking I should get a new phone,” Regan said. “Or maybe just throw it away, live off the grid.”
“Impractical, I suspect,” Aldo said, shrugging. He gave her a second glance, maybe a third. She tucked her phone into her pocket, turning to him with a smile, and he shook his head. “You’re lying.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“Yes, and it’s a lie.” He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled her into him, his arm looped around her neck; nearly a headlock, but that was Aldo. His version of proximity was restricting, and she liked it. She liked when he slid his hand around the back of her neck, led her around like that. Made her feel stable, secured. She leaned in, slid her lips up to his jaw, bit lightly.
“Ouch—”