guess how things would turn out for him. Marina listened and nodded, afraid to let on how bewildered she felt. Of course she knew about gay men, the baths, drag queens. How could she not, growing up in Greenwich Village? But somehow the complex world of transvestites had escaped her notice.
Thomas had joined them a little while after they were seated, long enough for the two of them to put a significant dent in the bottle of wine. The food arrived as Sarah began to giggle again.
Marina smiled. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right, it’s not. It’s hilarious!”
“Weird, is more like it.” Thomas poured them each a glass of wine.
“Oh, Thomas.” Sarah turned to Marina and whispered loud enough for Thomas to hear, “His masculinity is threatened.”
Thomas turned his attention to Marina and said, “A man is either into women or he’s not. All this in between, dressing-up stuff is just self-indulgent theatrics.”
After they had eaten in silence for a few minutes, Sarah leaned in to Thomas. “What do you say we take a walk when we’re finished and show Marina the ladies of the night?”
Thomas rolled his eyes and shrugged.
They strolled toward the Piazza della Signoria, where the Palazzo Vecchio functioned as the city hall, its turreted tower rising high above the square. In the restaurants and cafés along the perimeter of the piazza, waiters were putting chairs up on tables and calling buona notte to their departing clientele.
They crossed the piazza and headed down a dark side street, the damp, musty scent of centuries leading the way.
“There’s always someone along this stretch,” Thomas said in a low voice. “Look in the doorways.”
Sarah and Thomas chatted about the opening, the sales, the gossip, while Marina peered into the shadows. Sure enough, in the next block, she spotted a figure in a doorway, an attractive woman dressed in an elegant suit with a fur collar and cuffs. Her eyes flicked over Marina and then settled on Thomas. She called out something in a low singsong voice, to which Thomas responded in a gruff tone. The woman laughed.
“You are not going to tell me that was a man,” Marina said.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “The real women, the puttane, are selling their wares down around the train station.”
Marina couldn’t put her finger on exactly what she found intriguing. The subtlety, perhaps, the absence of the in-your-face flamboyance that drag queens had. Still, she wasn’t quite sure she understood it . So, these were men who dressed up as women to be with men? So they were gay, right? But did they want to be with straight men or gay men? Who wanted to be with them? And how come Thomas seemed to know so much about them?
CHAPTER 4
T wo weeks into the Italian class, Marina decided that “crash course” was a far more accurate description than “immersion,” which had led her to believe she would pass her days floating in the Italian language, lulled by its undulating rhythms. In actuality, it was more like boot camp, with the constant drills in verb conjugations and vocabulary. The class was composed of a couple of students, a handful of bored housewives, and a few antiques dealers. Fortunately, she caught on quickly. She loved that the rules of pronunciation made sense and that she was able to roll the letter r off her tongue with relative ease. The class met for four hours every morning followed by afternoon outings where they put their language to use. They learned how to shop and open bank accounts, visited museums, and even went to the movies. After the second week of outings, Marina decided her afternoon hours might be better spent with the English-Italian dictionary, making lists of words and phrases she would need for her gilding class. Although she was unable to find many of the technical terms in her pocket dictionary, she practiced phrases like: “I don’t understand,” “Please explain again,” and “Would you demonstrate that for me?”
The
Thomas had joined them a little while after they were seated, long enough for the two of them to put a significant dent in the bottle of wine. The food arrived as Sarah began to giggle again.
Marina smiled. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right, it’s not. It’s hilarious!”
“Weird, is more like it.” Thomas poured them each a glass of wine.
“Oh, Thomas.” Sarah turned to Marina and whispered loud enough for Thomas to hear, “His masculinity is threatened.”
Thomas turned his attention to Marina and said, “A man is either into women or he’s not. All this in between, dressing-up stuff is just self-indulgent theatrics.”
After they had eaten in silence for a few minutes, Sarah leaned in to Thomas. “What do you say we take a walk when we’re finished and show Marina the ladies of the night?”
Thomas rolled his eyes and shrugged.
They strolled toward the Piazza della Signoria, where the Palazzo Vecchio functioned as the city hall, its turreted tower rising high above the square. In the restaurants and cafés along the perimeter of the piazza, waiters were putting chairs up on tables and calling buona notte to their departing clientele.
They crossed the piazza and headed down a dark side street, the damp, musty scent of centuries leading the way.
“There’s always someone along this stretch,” Thomas said in a low voice. “Look in the doorways.”
Sarah and Thomas chatted about the opening, the sales, the gossip, while Marina peered into the shadows. Sure enough, in the next block, she spotted a figure in a doorway, an attractive woman dressed in an elegant suit with a fur collar and cuffs. Her eyes flicked over Marina and then settled on Thomas. She called out something in a low singsong voice, to which Thomas responded in a gruff tone. The woman laughed.
“You are not going to tell me that was a man,” Marina said.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “The real women, the puttane, are selling their wares down around the train station.”
Marina couldn’t put her finger on exactly what she found intriguing. The subtlety, perhaps, the absence of the in-your-face flamboyance that drag queens had. Still, she wasn’t quite sure she understood it . So, these were men who dressed up as women to be with men? So they were gay, right? But did they want to be with straight men or gay men? Who wanted to be with them? And how come Thomas seemed to know so much about them?
CHAPTER 4
T wo weeks into the Italian class, Marina decided that “crash course” was a far more accurate description than “immersion,” which had led her to believe she would pass her days floating in the Italian language, lulled by its undulating rhythms. In actuality, it was more like boot camp, with the constant drills in verb conjugations and vocabulary. The class was composed of a couple of students, a handful of bored housewives, and a few antiques dealers. Fortunately, she caught on quickly. She loved that the rules of pronunciation made sense and that she was able to roll the letter r off her tongue with relative ease. The class met for four hours every morning followed by afternoon outings where they put their language to use. They learned how to shop and open bank accounts, visited museums, and even went to the movies. After the second week of outings, Marina decided her afternoon hours might be better spent with the English-Italian dictionary, making lists of words and phrases she would need for her gilding class. Although she was unable to find many of the technical terms in her pocket dictionary, she practiced phrases like: “I don’t understand,” “Please explain again,” and “Would you demonstrate that for me?”
The
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