Hidden Heart

by Camelia Miron Skiba

  Each one of them sat quiet, deep in their own thoughts.

  Communism left such a bad memory for all of them; they didn’t need to experience again the way they felt back then. Back when winters felt incredibly cold, with no electricity or gas for the stoves and the three of them shared one bed just to keep warm. Or the times over the weekends when they had to wake up in the middle of the night, the only time the stove had enough gas to cook a meal, and their mother needed their help. That was a time they gathered in the kitchen; one peeled potatoes, another rinsed the veggies, the other one sliced up the meat—if there was any—, just talking up a storm with their mama. It wasn’t pleasant to wake up in that manner, but it was the only way the family could have cooked meals—the same dish—for a whole week.

  Electricity was cut every evening between six and nine and they used a gas lamp to do their homework. Sometimes dinners were served at the gas lamplight. Hard to believe that happened in the twentieth century, in a European country. The winter nights were the worst; it always seemed they couldn’t warm up, no matter how many layers they wore.

  Or going to school in those flimsy ugly uniforms the communist regime required. Or the hot summers without warm water for a whole month. The cold showers they took, the big pots they filled up with water to wash clothes. The long and excruciating practice for the celebration on August twenty-third, the National day of Communism and the day they stood on their feet from three in the morning till late in the evening to celebrate, and pay their respects and admiration to the Communist Party and their “beloved” president.

  Or the allotment of food they received each month and the hunger that never seemed to cease. Or the empty stores with one single brand of toothpaste, one shampoo or soap. Or the two hours per day of TV programs that were another masquerade of the Communist Party who censored every single film, song, and even the cartoons. Or the music they were forced to listen to; a constant and monotonous ode for the one and only Communist Government that sucked the Romanian nation of every bit of pride, self-esteem and willpower.

  Or the mean communists that looked everywhere for fault and turned in those individuals who didn’t appreciate, love and respect enough the government and the president. The despair on every single face, the helpless feeling they all grew up so accustomed to as part of the Romanian nation. Times were much better now, but those memories would always be part of who they were and where they came from.

  Tessa shrugged at the memories of how they grew up. She pushed aside the gloomy feelings lurking in her heart and gathered her thoughts.

  “Part of me had always felt guilty because I knew about Mama’s betrayal, but could never say anything to anybody. And each time I looked into Dad’s eyes, this guilty feeling tore me apart,” Tessa said again, her voice sounding strange, as she’d come back from somewhere far away. She paused for a moment. “I felt I betrayed him, but yet how could I say anything to him? To this day I feel they lived a life of lies, a marriage that looked good on the outside, but so false on the inside. Dad passed away a long time ago and I don’t know if he ever knew. I mean, how can a woman come home to her family and go to bed with her husband, yet hours before that she was with another man? Call me old fashioned, but cheating is not a word in my dictionary and will never be,” Tessa said and crossed her arms over her chest.

  None of them spoke again for a long time. They knew their mother’s life story. Ana had been forced in to marriage at a young age. Raised just by her mother, Ana and her siblings were so poor, they went to bed many nights with nothing to eat. Her father cheated constantly and finally left his family when Ana was just a couple of years old. Her stories were about hunger and poverty, being judged by kids for her old clothes, laughed at for her worn out shoes, which she had to share with her other sister; stories of cold Christmases coming and going with no presents, growing up with a mother so violent, bitter and lost, she never got any love or kind words.

  When Ana was only sixteen years old, Paul—much older than her—met her in a tram station and helped her get rid of a drunken man that harassed her. Paul walked her home to ensure she was safe. He was fascinated with her beauty. At first she got scared and didn’t want to talk to him at all, but then as they walked side by side to her neighborhood, they began talking. He came every day for a couple of months to see her, and although she wasn’t attracted to him at all, she allowed him to pick her up from high school.

  When Ana’s mother found out, she beat her up for being a disgrace for the family, yet Paul never touched Ana nor spent any time alone with her in the house. When Paul saw her the next day all bruised and hurt, he asked Ana to marry him; he was so madly in love with her. She told him she didn’t love him, but even knowing that, he still wanted to marry her. And so they did, with Ana giving birth to a baby boy a year later. The boy died a couple of months later and Ana suffered the rest of her life for that loss. She could’ve divorced Paul, but chose not to and soon after that they had Octavia, Chiara and Tessa.

  “Sorry you had to deal with this by yourself, sis,” Chiara said. She came over and hugged Tessa and then Octavia came and the three of them hugged and cried together.

  “I just wish I knew more. It almost feels like she had a double life, one with dad and us and one with her lover. Was it all a lie?”

  “This envelope, whatever it contains, I can’t read it. It’s too much to take on for such a short period of time.” Octavia stuffed the envelope in her purse. Chiara and Tessa did the same.

  Again, silence filled up the room.

  The three of them were so much alike, but yet different; Octavia, the older sister, was petite, with graceful curves. Her large, hazel eyes framed by dark short hair compelled men to stare at her. She came across as solid rock, cerebral and anal. It was a rare sight to glimpse an expression of love, compassion or tenderness from her—she feared the torments of the heart.

  She finished high school and college in Bucharest with straight tens, changed her mind and her career path and went to a different college. While working as a tour guide at the Black Sea, she met rich businessman, Andrew Blackheath, ten years older than her. After falling madly in love with him, they married two months later. They lived in a rented upscale apartment in Downtown Bucharest, while Octavia worked and Andrew traveled between Romania and England.

  She floated atop the world when she flew to London to surprise her husband only to find him surrounded by drugs and prostitutes. His list of crimes didn’t end there. Engaged to be married to a woman from the noble society of London, not only did Andrew live a double life with Octavia, but he also had stolen his identical twin brother’s identity, the real Andrew Blackheath. When she found out, she threatened to reveal James, her phony husband, to his family and fiancé. James had hired someone to kill her, but Andrew rescued her at the last minute.

  He tended to her broken heart for six long months. He hoped in time, she’d learn to love him the way he loved her. Was this fate or her parents’ history repeated once again? For a while, Octavia bought anything and everything; jewelry she never wore and clothes she never took out of the shopping bags in a desperate attempt to fill the emptiness of her heart. When tragedy threatened to destroy Andrew’s life, she realized that he was the man she’d loved all along, that he was the right man for her.

  Chiara was the middle sister, tall and fit, with blue eyes and dark curly hair. Smart, beautiful and kind, Chiara emanated a magnetism that people couldn’t resist. She never really liked school, but dreamed of becoming a famous gymnast, like her idol Nadia Comaneci, even fantasizing of scoring perfect tens in the Olympics. She left her parents’ house in the days of Communism at the early age of twelve as part of an acrobatic troupe that performed in an itinerant circus across Germany.

  She became the star of the circus as the youngest, most fearless acrobat. Her photos made the front page in every single newspaper and magazine wherever the circus performed. Her journey had been nothing but fascinating; a dazzling life in the public eye, b
ut behind closed doors she lived a complete nightmare, suffering physical, verbal and emotional abuse. When the troupe’s foreman was found dead, Chiara had been accused of murder, as the last person to be seen coming out of his trailer.

  She was sent to prison, but before the final sentence months later, a mysterious call to the police changed the course of the trial. Chiara was released, but the circus refused to take her back. She joined another circus where she learned how to train tigers and bears until an attack by one of the bears left her barely alive. Her career over, she decided to remain in Germany. She went back to finish high school on-line then continued her education, eventually becoming a gymnastics coach.

  She had never told anyone about the years of abuse during her life in the circus; now thirty-two years old, she had still never been able to forget that chapter of her life; she often felt she had more demons to fight than hours in a day.

  After dinner they agreed to meet the next morning to go through their mama’s stuff in case they wanted to keep something that belonged to her. Chiara and Octavia returned to their mama’s house, Tessa chose to go to her apartment.

  “You okay?” Daniel asked, holding her in his arms.

  She used to feel so good and safe there. Used to, but not tonight. It felt strange.

  “Why didn’t you come?” Tessa pushed him away and eased out of her jacket with slow motions.

  “Well, I thought you were better off without me. Besides, I had lots to do at work and stayed late.”

  “Daniel, my mama’s funeral was today. I thought we agreed this morning you’d come.”

  They sat on the sofa. She avoided looking at him, her heart full with disappointment. The burden of losing her mama weighed heavy on her soul; she didn’t know how to deal with it. She just wished he’d understand more and be more supportive. She fought the urge to cry again; her eyes burned horribly.

  “Let’s not argue over this. You are upset and tired. I prepared you a bubble bath,” Daniel said and handed her a glass of wine.

  Like a robot, Tessa walked to the bathroom, lit a couple of candles scattered all over the floor and turned on the radio. Soft music flooded the room. Then, she turned off the lights and took her clothes off. She sunk in the hot water, leaned against the tub’s edge and closed her eyes.

  Half an hour later, the water had turned cold. She reached for a towel.

  Daniel handed it to her. When did he enter the bathroom? He covered her and gently touched her face. He kissed her eyes, then her mouth. Hungrily, she turned to him for anything he had to offer; she wanted him to hold her. Tessa gripped his shoulder and returned his kisses. She desperately needed to forget the pain; she’d welcome anything that would distract her from it. That night they made love like they once did when their love felt alive and real. She fell asleep in his arms and dreamt of her mama laughing and watering her beloved plants in the family room. She woke up feeling slightly better; her mama seemed happy and still so close.

  The next day Tessa drove to her parents’ house, and together with her sisters searched through boxes filled with photos, old school tests and diplomas. They laughed at some photos, cried at others. They remembered old times when they had gotten in trouble for silly things they did. It felt good to be with her sisters and share memories.

  They decided to sell the house once all their parents’ belongings were sorted out and the place emptied out, which of course fell on Tessa’s shoulders since her sisters didn’t plan on returning back to Romania for a while. She promised she’d try to do little by little, whenever she could and hoped no later than the summer she’d hire a realtor to help with the sale.

  Later that afternoon Octavia returned to England and Chiara back to Germany. Tessa took both of them to the airport and, although she’d seen her sisters leave before, for some reason, this time seemed the hardest time to say goodbye.

  Loneliness overcame her as she left the airport behind. She always had her mama to go back to, to call in between meetings, in between flights, on her way home, anytime she needed. But she no longer could do that. Mama, her dear Mama was gone.

  Chapter 4

  The grief of losing her mama was unbearable. Needing additional support, Tessa kept in touch with her sisters more now than before the funeral. Each time she walked into her parents’ house the memories enveloped her and she wouldn’t stay there for more than a couple of hours at a time.

  She often felt exhausted from the business traveling, sometimes three or four days at a time. Her life spiraled at an agonizing speed between work, travel and social life. Some weekends she cleared more of her parents’ belongings and ran errands, others she’d have one event to attend after another and by the time Monday rolled in she was already tired. The following week she’d start all over again.

  For a while things seemed better between her and Daniel. He appeared to understand her grieving period and offered her comfort, but soon he left again for days and spent more money than he made. She grew tired of arguments and deep in her heart, she knew she needed to focus more on their relationship.

  “Victor called and said you need to stop by the office before you leave for Vienna. He said it’s urgent.” Eva poked her head in Tessa’s office and left the door open behind her.

  “What is it now? My plane leaves in two hours and I haven’t even packed.” She sighed and shoved a handful of files in her bag, then walked out of her office.

  “Good morning,” Victor invited her in. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks,” Tessa took the cup of green tea he handed her. “I need to be at the airport, so what’s the emergency?” She took a sip from her cup, closed her eyes to savor its aroma and felt energized within seconds.

  She sat across from Victor’s desk and waited for him to talk. When she looked at him she realized something was wrong.

  Victor seemed very nervous and distracted—abnormal for him.

  “You know I have always been very frank with you, and I have to tell you something that is very difficult for me,” Victor began slowly. He sighed, held his head between his palms then loosened his tie. “Someone else will take over your projects and—”

  “Wait a minute here!” Tessa shouted. “What? Why?”

  “I’ve been asked to release you,” Victor replied, dread in his voice.

  “Release me? Weeks ago you announced I’d replace you once you retire and now you are going to release me? Is this a joke?” She slammed her mug down and stood to confront Victor, palms on his desk.

  He too stood and walked out of the room to ask his secretary something, then left the door open and came to the middle of the room to face Tessa.

  “Our headquarters have sent someone to investigate your case.” He stopped and waited for the gentleman entering the room to join him. “Tessa, this is Mr. Alessandro Santinelli from the Alita Bank & Investments. As you remember, our company didn’t have the necessary cash flow to finalize the land acquisition. Alita Bank & Investments is the bank that loaned us the cash. He will conduct the investigation in your case.”

  Tessa looked puzzled from one face to the other. She felt as if the floor opened beneath her feet and the world crumbled before her eyes.

  Alessandro? Here?

  The man she abandoned in a hotel room after a passionate night?

  Investigating her case?

  What case?

  She needed support for her wobbly knees and before she fell, Alessandro caught her and helped her sit. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing. No expression, no recognition, no emotion—nothing.

  With the last sign of dignity left, she spoke in a calm tone, “I understand there is a case and I’m the suspect. May I ask what’s the nature of this investigation?”

  Alessandro spoke in the same voice that reminded her of a lover’s whisper.

  “You’ve been accused of fraud.”

  Accused of fraud?

  She had never stolen a dime in her life, let alone done anything to be accused of fraud. How could that be possibl
e?

  Victor avoided looking at Tessa and Tessa couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Her stomach knotted like she’d been kicked in the gut. How could he just decide to give away her projects without even consulting her? Didn’t she deserve at least some consideration? She became short of breath fighting the urge to cry, helpless and outraged at the same time. She clenched her fists for fear she might punch someone, her muscles tense.

  Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She hated being weak, but she couldn’t control herself. Crying in her boss’ office with Alessandro present was the last thing she wanted. Alessandro handed her a box of tissues, but she pretended she didn’t see it. Instead, she wiped off her cheeks with the back of her hands.

  “Tessa…please…it isn’t easy for me and, believe me, I dreaded this moment, you have no idea…” Victor paused for a second, then finally looked at her. “Look, I know how difficult these past weeks have been for you, I know you’re still trying to cope with losing your mama.” He sat on the chair next to hers, covering her hands with his.

  They had known each other for so long, built together a team of strong and very capable people. They’d developed a relationship beyond work, becoming close personal friends. The two of them could communicate just by looking into each other’s eyes and no one and nothing could alienate their relationship—or so she thought. They could talk about everything, no matter the subject, but this one was beyond anything they’d encountered since the beginning of their collaboration.

  She took a deep breath, shook her hair and straightened her jacket in an attempt to regain her bravery. “I’m very disappointed and I’d be lying if I don’t say I’m also very hurt. The fact that you worked behind my back and talked to people in our company about taking over my projects before you talked to me leaves me no choice. I either stay and fight the accusations or I quit.” Her belly tightened in a knot. She saw the short look exchanged between Victor and Alessandro with Victor’s resigned facial expression. “Fine then. I’ll leave.”