by Wendi Dass
After dinner, she helped Eduardo clean up. “You know, we were so busy stuffing our faces, I forgot to ask where you learned to cook like that.” She wiped some crumbs into her hand. “Don’t tell me Sister Maria helped you with your cooking skills, too.”
Eduardo’s laugh erupted from the kitchen, where he was busy packing up leftovers. He poked his head through the pass-through. “Thanks go to my Tuscan grandmother.” He brought clutched fingers to his mouth and kissed them in a flamboyant gesture.
Sarah smiled back and returned the dishrag to the sink. “It’s a miracle Lucia is so skinny.”
“I don’t think staying here two weekends a month is enough to fatten her up.” The lines around his face returned as his eyes darkened.
Sarah touched his sleeve. “She’s a wonderful child, Eduardo. You’re so lucky to have her.”
“Yes.” He turned. “She’s great. Kids are great.”
Sarah stiffened. Was he looking for a woman who can give him more children? She gave a slow nod.
Eduardo placed his hands on her arms. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I fix some dessert?”
“Okay.” As Sarah walked to the couch, she forced the exchange from her mind. Fun. Not a relationship. Wasn’t that what Meredith had said? She fished through her purse for her compact. She wouldn’t let her past spoil her fun now—especially when that fun might include a kiss. She touched up her lipstick and popped in a breath mint, rushing so he wouldn’t see.
Eduardo approached with a tray.
A touch of jitters hit her, and she clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from fidgeting. “Thank you again for dinner. I can’t believe you went to such trouble.”
“I enjoy cooking much more for others than I do for just myself.” He set the tray on the coffee table. “Besides, I skimped on dessert.”
The tray held two cups of coffee and a dish filled with blue, foil-wrapped candies.
He picked up a cup and offered it.
“Um, Eduardo…I don’t actually drink coffee.”
“Oh.” He pursed his lips. “No coffee. No wine. What exactly do you drink? You only took water at dinner.” He took a sip of the coffee.
Sarah gave a weak smile. “Tea. Usually tea.”
“Ah.” He placed the cup on the coffee table. “Well, I hope you have no objections to chocolate?”
“None whatsoever.”
He picked up a candy from the dish and unwrapped it. “This candy is Italian. Bacio. One of my favorites.” He lifted the candy to her mouth, and his fingers brushed her lips as he placed it inside.
Her lips tingled at his touch. Sweet milk chocolate melted in her mouth.
“And now I’d like to give you one myself,” Eduardo said.
Chewing the candy, Sarah covered her mouth with a hand. “One what?”
“Un bacio,” he said in a whispered tone. “A kiss.” He leaned in, but stopped, his lips inches from hers, his smile crinkling his eyes. “We really need to work on your Italian.”
Sarah smiled back and closed the distance between them, pressing her mouth against his. His lips were soft and warm, and a hint of coffee remained on his breath. She lost herself in the rhythm of their mouths moving together. When she released him, the only sound in the room was his breath, heavy against hers. Sarah wiped smeared lipstick from his lips. “That was your best lesson yet.”
“I’d be happy to teach you some other words.” He bent toward her.
As he did, she caught a glimpse of the changing sky. She placed a hand on his chest, lightly resisting him. “Wait,” she said in a whisper. She took in the warm halo of amber hues chasing the sun. “The sunset is so beautiful.”
Eduardo shifted on the couch, his back settling into the corner. He extended his left arm. “Watch with me.”
His embrace was as inviting as the picturesque scene, which begged to be painted. She scooted toward him and tentatively reclined.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. “Mmm. This feeling is good.” He squeezed her tighter.
She relaxed into him and gazed out at the slowly fading mixture of violet and ochre. The sun dipped out of sight, leaving a blanket of clouds, alight from dissipating rays. Yes, good indeed.
Finding the remote, Eduardo pressed a button.
Voices sang from some hidden source, as light as the clouds outside, blending in a familiar harmony. The Lakmé “Flower Duet.” Sarah tucked her head beneath Eduardo’s chin, letting the warmth of his body soothe her. She closed her eyes—just for a second—just long enough to bask in his tender embrace, to bottle it, and store it inside. In the same place where she held the memories of her father, of Steven and Amber, she now encapsulated this memory with Eduardo.
When Sarah opened her eyes, darkness surrounded her. The only light, a desk lamp, produced a steady flicker. A different song played now—a Verdi love duet. Pavarotti and Horne crooned. In the distance, the lights of the city illuminated the night like a swarm of fireflies. “Verdi. Your favorite,” Sarah murmured.
Eduardo’s chest rose with the quick inhalation of awakening before he exhaled.
A rush of air whisked her hair. Sitting up, Sarah scooted toward the middle of the couch. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He pulled back his legs with a mild grimace. “Another reason to conclude a meal with coffee.” His gaze flicked to the two full cups on the coffee table.
Sarah stretched her arms above her head and smiled over her shoulder. “Tea does have caffeine,” she teased. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Don’t be.” He sat up. “I enjoyed being close to you.”
Sarah studied him for a second. Was that a line, or was he being sincere? But out of the corner of her eye, a digital clock blared bright red digits. Ten thirty. She jumped to her feet. “My God, how many songs did I sleep through?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the first time…”
Eduardo finished his thought, but Sarah didn’t hear over her racing pulse. She was too busy envisioning Sister Maria peering out her window, catching Sarah entering the dorm after curfew. She picked up her purse and started toward the door. “I really need to get back.”
“No, please.” He stood, grabbed her wrist lightly, and pulled her back. “Stay with me.” He closed his mouth around hers, letting his tongue brush against hers.
The kiss was deeper than before, and it sent a shiver up her spine. Sarah dropped her purse and slid her hands up Eduardo’s back, pressing fingers into his muscular flesh.
He pulled away and murmured a hungry moan. Then he lowered his head and kissed the base of her ear, her chin, and her neck.
Sarah’s breath quickened, and she combed her fingers through his hair—silky and smooth, like his lips.
His mouth followed the line of her dress to the valley between her breasts.
An inkling of doubt pulled her back. This date was, technically, their first. What kind of impression would it leave if she slept with him? She loosened her grip on his curls. “Should we be doing this?”
He pulled away briefly. “I don’t see why not.” His mouth found hers again while his hands reached for the zipper. He started to pull it down.
She couldn’t stay the night…not tonight. Sarah stepped back from him.
“What’s wrong?” He dropped his hands back to her waist.
She stroked his hair. “We barely know each other.”
He pulled her left arm from his neck and kissed her wrist. “I feel like I know you better than most women in my life.”
The statement was so unexpected, so heartfelt, it couldn’t be true. Could it? “I guess I forgot to mention I have an eleven o’clock curfew.”
Furrowing his brows, Eduardo released her arm. “What? Another one of Sister Maria’s rules?”
Sarah dropped her gaze and gave a clumsy nod.
“Her age hasn’t softened her one bit.” He checked his watch. “What happens if I don’t get you home in th
e next twenty-five minutes? Will you be forced to stay the night somewhere else? Here, perhaps?” He grinned.
“She doesn’t like that either.”
He cocked his head. “You speak as if from experience.”
“I—” Damn. Had she said too much? She bit her lower lip. “I mean, she would rather me come home late than the next morning…I think.”
He narrowed his eyes.
Would he probe further? Hell, if he ever acted as guilty as she, she’d have questioned him.
“I see.” He whisked up her purse and extended it. “All right, I suppose I can’t keep you here any longer.”
On the walk from the car to the dormitory, Sarah rested her hand in Eduardo’s, and his sports jacket hung over her shoulders. The cool, crisp air stung Sarah’s cheeks.
“Feeling less nervous now?” he asked.
“A little.” Hopefully, the rosiness on her cheeks didn’t grow with the confession.
He squeezed her hand. “Nothing another date won’t take care of, I’m sure. How about Tuesday? I know you work the next day, but—”
“Sure.” She flushed and suppressed a giggle. He wanted to see her again…in three days!
He grinned.
As Sarah climbed the stairs to the building’s front door, Eduardo stayed by her side.
A chapel bell tolled in the distance. With each step, the bell tolled again.
Sarah’s heart thumped louder, excitement brewing at the thought of another kiss.
“I had a wonderful time tonight, Sarah.”
“Me, too.” She reached for the doorknob, and the warmth of the building breathed into the night. “Goodnight.” She stepped over the threshold.
Eduardo placed a hand on her hip and pulled her back. “Goodnight,” he whispered before kissing her softly on the lips. He drew back and smiled.
Sarah didn’t hide her smile, either. And surely her flushed cheeks were apparent. “Goodnight.”
Still beaming, Eduardo turned and hopped down the steps two at a time.
With the bounce in his step, he looked more like a sixteen-year-old than a thirty-six-year-old. Sarah stepped back into the building and closed the door. She started toward her room but stopped.
Outside, Eduardo whistled the brindisi, the waltz from La Traviata.
She listened to Eduardo’s whistle until the melody was too soft to make out. She resisted the urge to grip the sides of her skirt and dance off to her room. One date was too soon to feel so giddy. Something would go wrong…it had to.
Chapter 17
The next morning, Sarah bit into a dry piece of whole wheat toast. Ugh—bland would be an understatement. But if she wanted to shed the extra fat on her midsection before Eduardo’s next invitation to stay the night—which hopefully would be soon—Choctella sobriety was a must. She chased the grainy bread with a sip of black tea—well, with a tiny splash of cream. A girl couldn’t give up everything. As long as she didn’t need to wriggle into blubber-busting, granny panties, she’d be content. Was that item even sold in Italy? If it was, she seriously doubted Eduardo had ever been with a woman who’d worn them.
Okay. Stop thinking about sex. She glanced at her phone. Nine a.m. was too early—too early to text Anna, too early to call Meredith, and certainly much too early to thank Eduardo for the date.
Two missed calls from Mom, both received during the date. If Mom wasn’t the last person Sarah wanted to know about her date, she might call her; she was the one most likely to be up in the middle of the night. Meredith would certainly be sleeping, and she had a long time to wait until their usual Sunday afternoon catch-up. As for Anna…had she even come home yet?
Sarah washed down the cardboard bread and pulled up Anna’s contact. She texted,
—You up?—
She paced the room but received no response. She sat back and drummed her fingers on the desk. How long should she wait to call Eduardo? Or did she just wait until he visited on Tuesday? Had they even discussed what time?
Opening her desk drawer, Sarah pulled out Eduardo’s business card. She hadn’t even given him her number. She typed in his digits, saved him as a contact, and chose an appropriate ringtone—the brindisi from La Traviata.
At nine forty-five, with no response from Anna, she twitched her fingers, letting her gaze stray back to the phone. She hovered her thumbs over the keyboard. How many years passed since she’d played this cat-and-mouse game? Too many. And she was too old to be playing games now. Besides, a simple thank you wouldn’t come across as desperate. She entered Eduardo’s contact into the sender’s box of a text message.
—Thanks for last night—
She pressed Send then stared at her phone. Her chest tightened. The five flipped to a six. Nine forty-six. Maybe he was at church. The six flipped to a seven. Nothing. Maybe she should have gone to church. The seven flipped to an eight. Nothing. What the hell was she doing?
Ten minutes later, Sarah stared at her phone. When it dinged, she jumped. But the sound was only a notification of a new email—Mom. A wry laugh forced through Sarah’s lips. This behavior was ridiculous—she was an adult. She lifted her chin. Why is my mother up at four in the morning? She opened the e-mail.
Subject: Don’t be upset
Great. Don’t be upset? What had her mother done now? Canceled her hostel in lieu of bunking at the dorm? She chomped down on her toast and read on.
Dear Sarah,
I called. I know you must be upset, but don’t think about them. Your turn will come. I know it.
Call when you can.
Love,
Mom
The words blinded her. My turn will come? Those words were the ones her mother used when she talked about… Sarah gripped the arms of the chair. Who was having a baby? Meredith? No. She would have said something. Sarah’s cousin, Nancy? Well, who cared? That girl had babies faster than Sarah could finish a container of Choctella.
Sarah chewed on her toast. Geez, Mom was prone to overreactions. Not like Amanda and Phillip were expecting. Sarah choked on the toast, the rough edges scraping her throat. Amanda, pregnant? She couldn’t be. Sarah stared at the laptop screen. Did she dare look?
Trembling rushed her fingers, but she forced them on the keyboard. As she trudged her fingers over the keys, her pulse raced. She opened Philip’s social media page. Why, Mom, did you never unfriend him? She scrolled down the page, straining her eyes to simultaneously look but not look. Then she found it. So happy to announce that Amanda and I are expecting!
Her stomach twisted. No. Sarah shook her head. No. The cardboard bread sat like a rock in her stomach—a rock she wanted to spit out and hurl against the screen. How could this pregnancy have happened? How could Amanda have her baby? She slammed shut the laptop and stood from her chair so fast it whipped back and hit the floor. She stumbled backward. Two years of demoralizing prodding, extracting, and injections, and not even one “yes,” one pink line—not a single one. And this girl, this temptress, opened her legs and, voilà, she’s—
Her phone beeped. Finally, someone texted her back. Meredith or Anna? Either one would know what to say to make her feel better. She grabbed her phone. Eduardo. Her breath caught.
—Sorry for delay.
Was in shower.
Can’t wait to see you again, Bella Cigna—
Bella, beautiful. A smile played on her lips, and her heart melted. And Cigna? What did that word mean? She commanded her phone to translate. Swan. Cigna meant swan. “Beautiful Swan,” she whispered. Closing her eyes, she felt his strong hands on her arms, and his soft lips on her neck. Her smile widening, Sarah opened her eyes and dropped her gaze to her laptop.
A coolness crept into her chest, and her smile faded. The phone slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor. She didn’t retrieve it. “Beautiful swan,” she whispered again, maliciousness in her voice.
Shaking her head, she stepped away from the desk, from the phone, and from Eduardo’s sentiments. She bumped the edge of the bed, and she lowered
herself to it and buried her face in her hands. Tears dripped down her face. Not beautiful. Damaged. Broken. She curled up on the bed, closed her eyes, and pushed away thoughts of Philip and Amanda, of her mother, and of Eduardo.
****
“I know you’re in there,” Anna called.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah glanced at the clock. 8:30 p.m, but she didn’t budge. If Anna thought she was asleep, she might go away.
Anna entered anyway. “Are you sick?”
Sarah didn’t answer. Sick was one word for how she felt—sick of her shortcoming or sick of having her past thrown in her face.
Anna touched a hand to Sarah’s shoulder, shaking her. “Come on, Sarah. I’m getting worried. You’ve been sleeping all day.”
Sighing, Sarah rolled over, and opened her eyes. “Fine.” She sat up and stretched her arms in the air. “How’d you know I’ve been in bed all day?”
“I dropped by earlier. You were passed out.” Anna snapped her gum. “Late night?”
Sarah shook her head. “Just tired.”
Anna cocked her head in question but continued, “Well? How was the date?”
“How was what?” She rubbed her eyes.
“Your date, stupid!”
“Oh.” She paused. Eduardo’s words repeated in her mind. Kids are great. Sure, they were great if your body can carry them. With her lower lip quivering, she kept her gaze on the floor. “My date was fine.”
“Fine?” Anna planted her hands on her hips. “Just fine?”
Sarah shrugged.
Anna was quiet then stood. “Well, if you’re not interested, mind if I ask him out?”
“What?” Her pulse racing, Sarah leapt to her feet.
Anna pressed her pointer finger into Sarah’s chest. “Aha! I knew it.” She pushed Sarah back to the mattress. “You’re a terrible liar.”