Eric lifted his brow, surprised by the foreman’s invitation. “Yeah… sure. We will.”
“Okay.” Carl pursed his lips and nodded. He turned around and walked away, back towards his office.
“Thanks,” Eric called out while he was still in hearing reach.
Carl waved his hand at him and Eric smiled. It looked as if his two weeks of hard labor had finally paid off. He was now one of the boys.
“Are you sure I look fine?” Anne asked for maybe the hundredth time.
“Yes, honey. You look beautiful.” He glanced over at her as he drove on towards Carl’s house.
“I feel so nervous. I want to get it right for you,” she said, fiddling with her clutch purse.
“There is no way you can get it wrong.” He squeezed her hand gently.
“They will know I am blind. Do you think they will treat you differently after they do?”
“I hope so.” He chuckled. “If that gets them to buy me an extra lunch, then why not?”
She smiled. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know what you meant.” He brought her fingers to his lips. “I’m proud of you. You can never disappoint me.”
“Tell me what it looks like,” she whispered. She was filled with awe of all the happy sounds in the party.
“There are Chinese lanterns strung above us,” he whispered back. “There are children on the far left playing with balloons. And-”
“And there are a group of drunk ass fools surrounding a barbeque grill as if it was a woman in a fucking orgy,” a woman sneered as she dumped her plate of food on the table and sat across her. “I can’t believe you’re still guarding her like a freaking German shepherd, Eric.”
“Brenda?” Anne asked.
“You think there’s another one who has a louder mouth than mine?” Brenda grinned, tossing her short blonde curls over her shoulders.
“Well now that is something you finally got right. It’s Kendra, honey,” another woman said, giving Anne’s shoulders a small squeeze. She pulled up a chair beside her and sat down. “And look who’s here too? It’s Shelby and Valerie. Have you fed the kids already then?” she asked the two women joining them at the table.
“They won’t eat,” Shelby grumbled. “I swear I ain’t buying fast food once we leave here. They can help themselves to the left-overs from last night if they’re starving.”
“Oh kids are like that, you know,” Brenda said. “Jesse and Joseph were just the same when they were about Amy and Jeremy’s age. When they find friends and company, they forget to eat. Why? I haven’t a clue. But I’m, for one, am too old to remember and dig for an answer from my own childhood days. And two, they are kids. They survive despite all our fears that they most possibly won’t last through the night.”
“I just sometimes feel like I’m a bad mother.” Shelby sighed.
“Oh come on, honey,” Valerie said, giving Shelby’s hand a small compassionate rub. “They’re having fun. You’re a bad mother if you refuse them food when they want it. You’re not denying it, are you?”
Shelby groaned. “I should put my foot down with them though. They do run all over me.”
“What about you, Anne?” Brenda asked. “Any brothers or sisters?”
“Um… no,” she replied, taken slightly aback by the question. Until then, she was so engrossed in their conversation; she hadn’t thought they would be interested in her life at all.
“Oh…,” Brenda said, a little stumped for probably the first time in a long time. “I’m sorry if I was a little insensitive.”
“That’s okay,” Anne chuckled. “You don’t have to be careful with your words each time you talk to me. I’m not a porcelain doll and crack every time someone decides to be a little direct with me. I just never had any siblings because I think my parents were too busy to raise any more kids.”
“Were you… blind from birth?” Brenda asked carefully.
“No. I lost my sight at about seventeen.”
Eric put an arm around Anne’s shoulders, letting her know he was still by her side. She leaned into him a little, his closeness giving her confidence to continue on with her chatter.
“Can I ask you something?” Valerie asked. “It had always had me curious.”
“Yeah, of course,” Anne replied, her shoulders stiffening a little from the anticipation of the question.
“How can you tell one thing from another? Like how do you know the color of your sock?”
Anne laughed, her shoulders relaxing almost immediately. “Honey, my phone?” she asked Eric.
He grinned and pulled it out of her bag.
“There are apps,” she explained. “Things have become much easier for us blind people since the days of Helen Keller.” She took a picture of Shelby’s top and within a few seconds she received an automated reply. “Picture 4 is a woman’s red shirt.”
“Oh, wow,” Valerie remarked with pleasant surprise.
“That is so cool,” Shelby said. “And so it helps you identify money?”
“Yeah and pretty much most of the things I need.”
“What about reading emails?” Valerie asked.
“There are apps for those too and text messages and the sort.”
“Damn,” Shelby let out.
“Yeah, I wish they had one that could say This man is an ass,” Brenda quipped.
The women laughed.
“That is so awesome.” Brenda shook her head with amazement. She glanced over at Eric with a frown. “What are you still doing here? Get your ass out of here. Go on now. To the men.”
Eric laughed and kissed Anne on her temples. “You will be fine?”
“Yes.” She nodded with a smile. “I am fine.”
CHAPTER 19
Her phone rang. Honey… Honey… Honey, it repeated in its robotic tone. Her fingers twitched as she answered it. She knew Eric had been anxious about her visit to her father’s house ever since she had told him about it two days ago.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, hon. Now, would you stop fidgeting?”
“I can’t help it. I’m worried about you.”
She sighed. “Honey, you need to focus on your job. I know Carl gives you some slack off the phone because of me. But still, try not to take advantage of that, okay?”
“If he upsets you, you call me, you hear?” he said adamantly into the phone.
“I will.” She smiled. “I promise you.”
She switched the phone off and shook her head. He was possessive of her. Sometimes it would annoy her a little like now. But mostly it made her feel special. After all you only are possessive of what is yours and what is of value. No one carelessly threw a diamond on the coffee table like a used magazine. On the other hand, if he was possessive, then it also could only mean she held him captive.
“That’s a cute ringtone you have,” a voice interrupted her thoughts.
She tensed. What was Nicholas Bradley doing here?
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said firmly.
“Neither did I. I had a meeting with your father.”
“Business, I hope,” she said curtly. Because she was going to catch the cab home if she became the subject of any discussion between them. She or the matter of her marriage to Nicholas Bradley.
He had frowned at her ringtone. Honey? He could only hope it was a woman and not a boyfriend.
Nicholas hadn’t expected to see her, stepping only briefly out of Philip Mullen’s study as the older gentleman attended to a private phone call. But there she was, standing in the patio, her soft blonde tresses fluttering in the little breeze passing over her. How did she always manage to look so beautiful?
He leaned against a pillar until she finished her call, admiring the way in which she nipped at her lower lip or tilted her face as she spoke tenderly into the phone.
“My father invited me for lunch,” she said, making her way towards his study. “I will see if he is available. Otherwise, we would
have to arrange this for another day- seeing that he already has company,” she added very subtly.
“Well, that does seem a coincidence. Because I was invited to lunch as well,” he said with a slight grin.
“Nothing my father does is a coincidence,” she grumbled. “If they do happen, they are rare.”
“He must want the entertainment of both our company,” he pointed cheekily.
She let out a mocking laugh. “I have to admit, Mr Bradley, you have a very fascinating imagination. Why in the world would my father want that? We all know he never mixes business with pleasure. It is only ever one of the two. If there was ever a man who never blurred his lines, it would have to certainly be my father.”
“So why do you think he’s invited us both to lunch together?” he asked, his eyes roving every inch of her face.
“I don’t know,” she muttered almost to herself, pursing her lips in deep thought.
The three ate in silence in the patio, the clattering of their cutlery occasionally breaking the silence. The leaves of the overhanging bougainvillea rustled in the wind, its winding vines rubbing against the glass roof above them. Anne imagined their bright purple flowers drizzling about her. They were always the life of the garden, she remembered.
“How’s your music coming along, Anne?” her father asked at last from the head of the table.
“It’s good,” she replied, not at all in the mood to converse, her mind constantly swaying to the man sitting across her.
“Anne performs as a violinist in an orchestra and tutors as well,” Philip explained to Nicholas.
“I’m sure, Dad, Nicholas isn’t the least bit interested. He’s a busy man with more serious matters to deal with,” she said sharply.
“On the contrary, I find it very interesting,” Nicholas replied. “How many hours do you tutor?”
“Twelve hours a week, if you really must know,” she said with irritation. “Do you take an interest in everyone’s personal life?”
He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip from it. “No. Like you said, I am a busy man. And therefore, wouldn’t it be reasonable to deduce that if I do take an interest in anyone it is because I am interested in them?”
“And why is that, I wonder?” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “I’m not in the business.”
“And why shouldn’t he be interested?” her father interrupted Nicholas before he could retort. “Nicholas is a very special friend to the family. And it will please me if you could give him the same respect you give me.”
She put her fork down firmly and turned to her father. “Very well. But first, why don’t you tell me exactly why you have invited both Nicholas and I to this lunch? We haven’t had much of a conversation. And knowing you Dad, you don’t indulge much in small talk.”
An uncomfortable silence pervaded the lunch this time.
“Nicholas, would you be able to look over the matter with TRB Pty?” Philip said, breaking the quietness once more. “I haven’t heard back from them since our last discussion. They seem to be dragging on with the Carlingford bridge project.”
“I’ll have a chat with their project engineer and see how far they’ve gone with the plans,” Nicholas said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “In fact, I should call them now, while they’re still awake in Berlin.”
“We should never have given them the contract,” Philip grumbled.
“Don’t worry. They will pull through.” Nicholas smiled. “Anne,” he said, indicating his leave.
“Nicholas,” she replied, and then swallowed a mouthful of her wine.
Finally, she heard him close the patio doors behind him, leaving her alone with her father.
“Lucy told me about this boy you’ve taken in as a tenant,” Philip said.
“He’s not a boy, Dad, and neither is he a tenant. Not anymore,” she added with a grumbling whisper.
Philip raised his brow. “A friend, then?”
“He’s my boyfriend, yes. We are in a relationship, if you must know,” she replied curtly. His questions were beginning to irk her even though she had quite expected them the moment he had invited her over for lunch. She had waited in annoyance all through lunch. But of course he wouldn’t mention Eric in the presence of Nicholas. That would simply have been an embarrassment for him, right?
She clenched the stem of her wine glass angrily. How could her father be so condescending about a man he knew she could most probably love?
“And how long do you intend to… caper about with this man?” he asked curtly.
“ ‘Caper about’?”Anne repeated, taken aback by his choice of words to describe her feelings for the man she loved. “Is that how you intend to respect me? Father, you’re mistaking fear for respect when you expect to only receive it and not give it back.” She began dabbing at her lips with her napkin. “I think we’re done here. We’ve had our lunch and I need to go back home.”
“We’re not done yet,” he said firmly, cutting through another slice of his steak.
“I think we are, Father.”
“Sit down,” he said. But when she continued to move out of her chair, he barked at her angrily. “Sit down!”
She stopped, unsure as to whether she should continue to defy him. But her curiosity pricked her. She rarely saw him in such a state and she wondered what it was he was trying to tell her. She smoothed her skirt as she eased herself back into the chair with as much poise as she could muster.
“What is his name?” Philip asked.
“Eric.”
“This Eric… he has a surname, of course?”
“His name is Eric Tanner, Dad.”
“Hmmm,” he said.
She could imagine him nodding while thinking of his next sly strategy to win her back from Eric.
“How long did you know him before you formally declared that it was a relationship?” he asked.
“Father! That really is none of your business,” she stammered out loudly.
“I am interested in your life.”
“Well, that’s an awfully nosey way of taking an interest. And I’d rather you not in such case.”
“If it were your mother, wouldn’t she have asked the same question?”
She swallowed down a lump of guilt. She most probably would have asked more than just how long she had been dating Eric. That’s how mothers were.
“About a month,” she said slowly. “He moved in soon after we met. And we started dating about a month later.”
“And how long has it been since?”
“About three months now.”
“Three months,” he mumbled.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said sharply.
“And what is that?”
That I am gullible to have someone move in with me only a few days after meeting him, and then start a relationship with him within a month.”
“Why did you do it then?”
She let out an annoying puff of air. “Isn’t that how most relationships start? And I’m not married, Dad. We’re only dating.”
“Living together, you mean.”
“If you haven’t noticed, Father, that is the norm these days.”
She heard him putting his fork down. He must have finished his meal. He would never leave his meal unless he was done with it or if there was something that required more urgency than his food.
“I have a project for you,” he said.
“Yeah?” She straightened up with curiosity.
“I’m erecting a monument for your mother. It’s a garden pergola at the Boston School for the Orphans. Why don’t you help with the design and landscaping?”
She tilted her head with slight suspicion. What was he up to now?
“But you’ve never give me such a task before,” she uttered out aloud.
“You’re the one who keeps reiterating on the point that you’re not gullible and just as reliable as anyone else.”
“But why?” If he was trying to say that he suddenly trusted
her to be independent and possessed the ability to self-manage her own life, then she didn’t believe him at all. Anyone who held a belief for decades to change it so easily in a matter of a few minutes could hardly be trusted.
“You’re not interested? I just presumed you would be since it is dedicated to Mom. Who would know what she would have liked better than you?”
She sighed. She was trapped. Of course she wanted to be involved in her mother’s monument project. Who was she kidding?
“When do I start?” she asked quietly.
“Come in to the office tomorrow and I’ll have you meet up with the team,” he said.
She fiddled with the strap of her bag. Was that all? Is this why he had bothered to invite both she and Nicholas over for lunch? Something nagged at her, telling her there was still more to this tale.
Eric stepped back to take a look at the new annex to the old library. It was a wonder how a group of people could create something so beautiful just by working together. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“Hey, you joining us for lunch?” Deelon called out to him.
Eric shook his head and waved him away. After all the clattering he had been enduring these past weeks, he could do with a little peace. He sighed, wiping his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants. From the silence of his days as an assassin to the clamorous sounds of construction.
He strolled towards the library. He seemed to be finding that much needed solace a lot these days in the older wing. He meandered through the hallways and towards what had become his corner- the Braille wing.
He didn’t understand why he was attracted more to this part of the building than the rest. Perhaps, it helped bring him closer to Anne. Or perhaps because he didn’t feel his past sins were being judged among its blind patrons. He didn’t have to suffer the discomfort of being a pretentious bastard every time Deelon or anyone else for that matter looked directly into his eyes and invited him for lunch.
A Jar of Dreams Page 18