ATONEMENT (17 page)

“
We read too many storybooks, it’s starting to show.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good-night, Sleepy.
Umwah
!”

“
Ummm
, I needed
the kiss.
Buenos
noches
,
amor
.”

“
Buenas
diás
,
esposo
.”

She hung up, looked around the large room, got her
behind
out of the bed and went to shower.

Later, she emerged from the master suite and jumped at the si
ght of
Nico sitting in a chair near
her
door.
She clutched her chest, “Nico, you startled me, what are you doing
and
how long
were
you out here?”

He glanced at his chrome watch. A functional timekeeper, the
kind
adventurers use. She knew this by the complicated dial, “About three hours.”

“Why?”

“It’s my job.” He said, stretching out his long legs and leaning his head on the wall.

“Geez,
it’s
overkill. I don’t think anyone’s coming through the window to steal me away. Please, give a girl a little space.”

“Just a little,” then h
e reached to the floor for
a
floral basket, she
hadn’t noticed
before
.
“An olive branch from
Lucia
.”

Selange eyed it suspiciously, “What’s in it
, a bomb
?”

He shrugged, “
I only see f
lowers
and a note.”

She took it,
tried to
read the fancy writing and laughed, “
I
don’t know what it says
.
”

“
I’ll translate.”

“Okay.”

She handed him the lovely embossed stationary and waited
. Nico
squint in disbelief then cleared his throat. He would not repeat the words. T
ranslated t
he note
read
;

‘
DEAR SELANGE, THESE FLOWERS I FOUND IN THE TRASH.
IT
IS WHAT I THINK OF YOU.
HAPPY
YOU MISSED THE TOUR.
PLEASE
HAVE A TRASHY DAY.
AMERICAN WHORE
.
–
L
.
’

Selange frowned, “It’s not an apology is it?”

“Not really.”

“Well
,
what does it say?”

He
gave the
shortened version, “Only she’s glad you missed the trip.”

“
I’m sure she is after last night.
Spiteful hussy.”

Nico stood. He would
n’t let
Selange’s day
get
spoiled by
Luci
a’s childishness. “What do you want to do for the
rest of the
afternoon
?”

“Enjoy the peace but first I need some food.”

“Then?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe relax and watch a movie.”

“Okay.” He took the basket
, “Come on let’s get you fed.”

She heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner as they walked through the hall. Last night they didn’t get an opportunity to talk. She glanced at him. He looked good, even with the beard.
“How are you, really?” She
inquired.

They were descending the wide staircase, “I’m
good
.”

He led her to the huge kitchen, with its terra cotta décor
and
authentic brick oven which was
the
main center piece.
He dropped the basket and note in the garbage and pointed to a seat as he gathered food. He asked over his shoulder, “We have fritters,
suppli
al
telefono
,
cazzilli
,
aglio
-
oglio
,
pastries, what
do
you
want
?
”

He put an assortment of food in front of her and she frowned, “It’s too much. A bagel and a fruit
…orange or
cranberry juice is fine.”

His eyes narrowed, “Not eating, vomiting, hmm.” He located the bagels, piled some peaches in a bowl,
handed her
utensils and
butter then
d
isappeared to another side of the kitchen to check the pantry
. He
emerged with a large jar of cranberry juice all the while thinking…is she pregnant?

He got her a glass, “Ice no ice?”

“No ice, thank you.”

He sat down and watched her pick at the peaches as if she were afraid they’d form legs and swallow her.
“Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

She
felt hungry and wanted to eat but when she did, nausea set in. She slipped a
peach in her mouth and chewed
, waiting for the queasiness to start. “I’m eating, see.”

The mechanical workings of her mouth
belonged to
a person eating without enjoyment
or
someone with morning sickness.
He leaned forward
propped his elbows on the table
without regard for manners
and
star
e
d
at her
. She was pregnant. Selange was not an anorexic, her weight was normal. The lips gave her away. They were fuller, more luscious.

“How far along are you?” he asked
casually
.

Her reaction was a cough and she quickly brought a hand to her mouth, “Hmmm, what?”

Nico lifted the spoon and scooped up peach
es
. He ate without a problem. “You heard me?”

Selange quickly glanced toward the
entry to
assure they weren’t overheard.
“How
’d
you
guess
?”

“
It’s obvious.
”

She cut the bagel and ate a very small, almost crumb size piece. “
A couple of months but
I haven’t told
Alfonzo
yet.”

“Why not?”
He scooped more peaches into his mouth a
waiting the a
nswer. His eyes
hadn’t
faltered
as he searched for
signs of a lie.

She shrugged, “
Um,
I don’t know.” Selange ate to avoid conversation.
E
motions were
building to a crescendo,
immense guilt mingled with overwhelming sadness
were forcing their way to the surface
.

“He’s your husband, wh
y are you scared to tell him
?”

She shrugged.

Nico noticed a liquid shine forming in her eyes. Selange wasn’t answering but in a way she had. “
I
s
it because
the baby
’s
mine
, Selange
?”

Her lip trembled. One
tear slid down her left cheek and then
the right side
chased it.
“I
’m not sure.
”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

She was sniffling, trying
to
stay in control, but
started to crack.

“W
hat
’s the
plan
, now. You can’t ignore or hide from it
?”

A violent shivering of the lips occurred.

He put the spoon down
with a clang
in the
empty
bowl
hoping
to wake her from the sel
f-recrimination. It
’s
done
.  Th
eir indiscretion
was
long over and this was the
aftermath. Either, she lived with it
and
moved
or
let guilt keep her locked in indecision
. Punishing herself
was senseless at this point,
it wouldn’t change the past,
he thought practically
.

He
requested she
look at him
; he
needed to see those eyes.
Dammit,
she was causing him frustration by avoiding eye contact,
“What have you decided?”

“I almost
…
,” the tears were flowing unchecked and he passed her a napkin. She pressed it to her eyes then looked around again, fearful someone lurked in the shadows.