Clementine closed her eyes for a moment. “Not to worry,” she finally said. “I’ll be fine. I think I just brought back something from some recent travels.”
“Well, then, you best take care of that, before it gets worse.”
Clem nodded her head. “Oh, I’ve taken care of that, mind you. It’s all over and done.”
With that, she begged off and slipped away, leaving her friend to deal with the happy couple and knowing she’d take care of killing Isabella the next time she saw her.
Chapter Eleven
Sebastian was never happier than at the helm of his sailboat. It was then that all was right in his world. And that was saying a lot because it took him years to find that happy place.
Growing up in a famously broken household did his sense of continuity no favors. He and his siblings were shuttled back and forth, not only between homes but also between countries, depending on who each of his parents was attached to at the time.
Over the course of his childhood, he spent time adjusting to life and languages in Italy, Belgium, France, and even one brief summer in Spain, when his mother took up with a bullfighter, of all things. It was only when the man suffered an impalement injury at the hands (make that horns) of an angry bull that his mother realized maybe theirs wasn’t a match made in heaven.
After that, they were back in Monaforte in time for the annual August exodus to the beaches, to wait out the summer heat. At least there he was able to connect with his Zia Ariana’s family, during which he felt some semblance of familial normalcy. Spending time with his cousins, he could see that in some homes, there were parents who loved and helped each other and cared for their children on a regular basis and not just when the muse struck. Not that his parents didn’t love them all; they just weren’t particularly skillful in the way in which they showed it.
Sometimes he wondered if maybe their passion was too large to accommodate anyone else. And that fervency took the form of either extreme affection or excessive anger. Realistically, how could anyone fit anything else into that sort of equation?
But Sebastian learned to adapt, opting instead to be as independent as humanly possible. So much so that when he was farmed off to boarding school by the time he was ten, it didn’t even bother him: he was in a more stable environment there than under his own parents’ tutelage. At least his headmaster remained the same for the next eight years.
By the time Sebastian took to the seas, he was used to being on his own, although lately he’d become rather used to having his cousin Topher alongside him on the boat. Nothing wrong with having a little companionship. Although if he were to be honest with himself, the companionship that sounded most appealing involved a gorgeous blonde with a rockin’ body from back home...
“Huh-uh,” he said out loud. “No way. No how. Never, ever, ever gonna tie myself down to a woman.”
“You say something?” Topher said as he climbed the steps from the saloon. “Because if you’re talking to me, I didn’t hear a word you said.”
“Not for your ears, anyhow.”
Topher grabbed the towel he had draped over his shoulder and toweled off his wet hair. “You still mooning over Clementine, then?”
Sebastian scoffed at him. “Are you mad? Have you ever known me to think twice about a female?” he said. “Besides, I thought you didn’t hear a word of what I said.”
Topher smiled. “I didn’t hear one word, I heard them all.”
Sebastian grabbed his towel and snapped it on him in rebuke.
“Methinks thou doth protest too loudly, your Highness,” Topher said.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Wait a minute. You’re the highness-est here, not me.”
“Highness-est? Is that really a word?”
Sebastian shrugged. “All that royal blather. I can’t be bothered. I feel lucky your mum won that lottery, not mine.”
“It’s even luckier still that you found your home on the ocean. It suits you,” Topher said. “But do you ever think about returning home?”
Sebastian shook his head. “It would take an act of God to get me back there. I really can’t foresee any reason to go. Can you?”
“Shy of your favorite dog dying, not exactly,” he said. “But perhaps to see your family?”
“We’re not like you all, Toph. Pretty sure you know that. As normal as your family was, mine was completely wanked.”
“I hear ya,” he said. “But even dysfunctional family is still family. Don’t you think?”
Sebastian reached into the nearby cooler and grabbed a beer, removed the top with a bottle opener conveniently attached to his swim trunks, and took a long drink.
“Uh, not so much.”
“But it’s where you came from,” Topher said. “Even if your parents were slightly unconventional—”
“Make that hypertheatrical, histrionic, and un-freaking-believably stressful.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll grant you they weren’t necessarily the easiest people to live with,” he said. “But you have to grant, they were passionate people. There’s something to be said for people who feel so deeply.”
“Um, actually, no. Not when it messes with your family so much,” he said. “I mean, Toph, I was shipped about like a damned UPS parcel. Carted along from country to country like one of those little teacup dogs. Only I wasn’t a pup that fits in your purse: I was a child. Whose parents about wanted to slaughter each other half the time. That is, when they weren’t clawing at each other’s clothes as if they were in a state of sexual starvation.”
Topher laughed. “Christ, you are not kidding on that one. I remember one time your mother was whipped into a frenzy about some woman she was convinced your father was after. I think it was the woman who cut his hair.”
“Yep. Marcella. Spent four weeks with my father and her on the south of France before he realized she wanted babies and that was so not in his plans.”
Topher winced. “Well, let’s look on the bright side. Neither of them was a serial killer.”
They both laughed at that. Indeed, they were serial lovers and fighters, but certainly not killers. All good, in that light.
In the distance, Sebastian could hear his phone ringing.
“That is so weird,” Sebastian said. “It’s been ages since I’ve heard the damned thing.”
He raced down the stairs and scrambled to find his phone before it stopped ringing, tucked away as it was in a cubby shelf in his cabin.
“This is Sebastian,” he said as he slid the call to on.
“Bass, darling, it’s your mother.”
Sebastian paused for a second. His mother calling could mean only one thing: someone died.
Chapter Twelve
“Mum?”
“Yes, Sebastian. I think you know me,” she said. “The one who got married because she was pregnant with you? The one who labored for three days—THREE DAYS—before you graced us with your presence.”
On second thought, clearly nothing had died except his good mood.
“Mother, dearest. To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?”
“Cut the treacle, sweetheart,” his mother said. “I’d love for you to be more excited to hear my voice, but I understand why it doesn’t exactly light up the night sky for you.”
Understatement of the year.
“But listen. Maybe this will speak to you,” she said. “I’ve got news. Really good news. Well, I think it is, anyhow. And I hope you’ll think so as well. Maybe you won’t. But you’d better.”
“You’ve managed to find an age-defying cream that works?” he said.
“You slay me with your wit,” she said. “Now, cut the crap. Your father and I are getting married.”
Sebastian laughed. “You know usually that sentence comes before the progeny springs forth from your loins.”
“Understood. But we’re going for the shock factor. Have the children, then attempt to cobble together a life with each other.”
“That about says it all,” he sai
d.
“Look, Sebastian,” she said, her voice softening. “I understand that we didn’t have a conventional family when you were growing up. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sure it’s hard to grasp, but it wasn’t easy on me either.”
Sebastian just heaved a deep sigh.
“Honey, your father and I were practically children when we married,” she said. “I was eighteen! I had no choice in the matter. It was what your grandmother decided. Plus I loved your father, so it made sense at the time. Can you imagine getting married and having a baby at that age?”
He paused to conceptualize that for a minute, but couldn’t. When he was eighteen he could barely keep himself in line, not even thinking about a damned baby. He had to concede the point to her.
“Okay so fine, this is hard for you,” she continued. “It’s going to be hard on your sister and brother as well. But it is what it is. Hopefully, in time, you’ll embrace our joy. Your father and I have always loved each other. It’s just that our, oh, I don’t know, our stupid heads got in the way.”
Gee, ya think? Sebastian just remained silent.
“Bass? Are you there?”
Sebastian nodded, out of habit really, since she couldn’t see him. “Yep. I’m here. Just trying to absorb this information.”
“Look, sweetheart,” she said, “your father and I would love for you to come home so we can talk in more detail about things. I’m sure it’s inconvenient, but maybe you’ll give it some thought?”
Home? To Monaforte? The last place on the planet he wanted to go. Although a certain someone did live there, and even if he had no plans to settle down, he sure as hell had no rules against long distance booty calls...
Sebastian shrugged. He always did at least love that crisp, fall weather back home.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll give it a go. When do you want me?”
Chapter Thirteen
Clementine had just taken her beloved pinto Winnie out for a long ride in the forests that flanked her family’s extensive estate. It was something she had often done with her father, so it helped her to feel a bit connected to him still, as if she was communing with his spirit while trotting along the trails on a warm late-autumn morning, a breeze carrying her long blonde hair behind her with a sense of freedom.
When she returned to the stables, she handed Winnie off to Alastair—who technically managed the estate but was regarded by her family as more of a family member—for the horse’s normal post-riding rituals, as Clem was supposed to meet her mother for lunch and was running late.
She gave her “Uncle” Alastair a quick peck on the cheek.
“Thanks for helping out,” she said. “By the way, Winnie was a bit irritable this morning. She just seemed a little off, poking at her flanks, that sort of thing. I’d love it if you might be able to give her a thorough once-over.”
“You’re leaving her in good hands. Now get going before you’re late,” he said, giving her a swat on the behind as she scurried out the door. “I don’t want your mother blaming me for keeping you back.”
Clem waved her hand, dismissing that thought. “Mum thinks the world of you, Uncle Alastair. You’ve been a gem to her since we lost Papa. She’d never blame you for a thing.”
~*~
“Here, take a bite of this fish,” Lady Charlotte said, offering her fork to Clementine. “It’s divine.”
Clem took a bite then closed her eyes, reveling in the taste.
“That is incredible,” she said. “I think it’s the capers that make it that much better.”
“You’re so knowledgeable about food, sweetheart. Perhaps you should look into a career involving fine dining,” her mother said. They’d been discussing Clementine’s ambivalence about returning to her former job and her desire to find something interesting and challenging. “Although you’d not want to work late nights in a restaurant.”
Clementine shook her head. “Plus, it takes years to become proficient enough to be a chef, Mum,” she said. “I’m afraid I missed the boat on that one. Which is all fine and good because I have no interest in it anyway. I’d much rather enjoy the food someone else has prepared than slave over a hot stove myself.”
“What about working with children?”
Clementine laughed. “From food to babies without a segue,” she said. “I don’t know. I’m fine with children, but I feel like there’s something else I’d be good at that I just haven’t put my finger on yet.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Lady Charlotte said. “You’ll figure it out.”
Clementine heaved a sigh as she began to tackle her lobster.
“These things are so impossible to eat gracefully,” she said. “At least until I can ease the thing out of the shell. Lucky they do the lion’s share of the work back in the kitchen,” she said as she extracted the lobster tail from where it was still nestled in the shell. “Anyhow, I’m sure I’ll come up with some great idea for work. Shame it hasn’t just jumped into my lap. Would be much easier that way.”
“Your father used to always say that anything worthwhile doesn’t come easy.”
“I suppose,” Clementine said. “I guess I haven’t really pursued anything with that much passion yet.”
“You’re still young, my dear,” her mother said. “In due time.”
“Yes, but at my age you were already married and had babies! I can’t even figure out a career, and so I certainly don’t bother with worrying about finding a life partner and having a family. That is so not on my horizon.”
“Times were different back then. Besides, it’s not as if there’s someone you’ve met with whom you’d want to have babies. Is there?” her mother cocked her head in curiosity.
Nope. No one she’d have babies with just yet. But maybe someone with whom she’d have some fun in practice mode, as long as babies weren’t the ultimate outcome.
Clementine laughed. “Don’t hold your breath on that one.”
“In that case, perfect,” she said. “I’ve been in touch with an old friend and she’s coming for dinner tonight. Very casual. She asked if she could bring her son along as he’s just come in for a brief visit. I told her he was most welcome. I think you’ll love her, and who knows, maybe her son is eligible.”
Clementine rolled her eyes. “Great,” she said. “Fulfilling my loser status by having my mother ham-handedly set me up on a blind dinner date. With parents in attendance, no less.”
“Oh stop,” her mum said, swatting her hand. “I’m not setting you up. I’m just giving you something to do tonight. And if you don’t like him, I’ll leave you to clear the dishes and clean up afterward.”
Clementine laughed. “Um, isn’t that what Rosa is for?”
Her mother shrugged. “Just want you to know you have an out if you need one. Besides, I haven’t really entertained at all since your father passed. It’s going to be a little strange for me. I’d love to have your support,” she said. “So, are you in?”
No guilt there.
Clementine frowned, glancing up from her lobster. “If you put it that way, how could I ever resist?” she said. “But I’m reserving the option to escape if he has large, protruding teeth and bad breath and talks about video games all night long.”
Her mother laughed. “Deal.”
Clementine could barely finish her lovely lobster, worried now that she’d not even make it through dinner, what with the dweeby guy she was being set up with.
Chapter Fourteen
“Bass!” his mother squealed excitedly as he stood in the towering doorway of his on-and-off-again family home and dropped his lone duffle bag.
His parents had just resumed occupancy of the place once they decided to reunite. Or re-reunite. Or whatever it was they were doing.
Sebastian hadn’t been there much in the past decade. It had often been emptied of everyone’s most treasured possessions, each time they packed up and moved around at their parents’ whims, so much so that it lost any connotation of “
home” to him.
Elisabetta pulled him in for a hug, then grabbed his hands in hers as she guided him into the foyer of the grand old home.
“My baby,” she said. “Just look at you!”
Sebastian was so not used to this sort of attention. His mother wasn’t usually the fawning type, at least when it came to her offspring.
He looked to his left then looked to his right.
“Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, knitting his brows. “Any idea where my mother might be?”
Elisabetta pushed his shoulder in jest. “You still have that sense of humor, I see,” she said. “So I’ll pretend you were joking. Come along. Let’s go find your father. We’ve got much catching up to do.”
As Sebastian trailed his mother through the great room, he noticed a small army of workers cleaning and painting and trying to pump life back into the place. He didn’t have a rash of fond memories of the house, but he did recall playing plenty of hide-and-seek with his brother and sister, and better still with Topher’s family when they visited. It was a house meant for hiding, and many a rainy day was spent with kids scurrying about the place in hot pursuit of one another.
He also remembered playing some fierce games of “step on a crack and break your mother’s back” on the large harlequin-tiled floors. If that game was for real, his mother broke her back a hell of a lot. Although in reality it was more like Sebastian broke his back trying to persuade his parents to remain together, all to no avail.
He thought about one time when he was about eight, and his parents had practically lit up the night sky with one of their battles. It was, no doubt, about a woman his mother suspected his father was fooling around with. They’d come out of the great room only to discover Sebastian sobbing as he sat midway up the mahogany spiral staircase. All that grandeur and it came down to a little boy in an oversized space feeling sad and alone in what felt to him like a cold, cruel world.
“Can’t you see what you’re doing to us?” he pleaded in between sobs.
His mother climbed the steps and sat down next to him. She reached for him, but he shunned her touch.
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