by A Kelly
Earlier she’d thought tonight had ended well, now she knew it was just the beginning. Leaving was out of the question.
As Scipio pulled out, overcome by pain, pleasure and breathlessness, Summer fell asleep – or maybe she passed out.
And she slept like she’d never slept in years.
Scipio sat on the edge of the bed. The tea he’d put on the bedside table was cold now, but he didn’t want to wake Summer up. Partly because he found his own peace in looking at her so restful, partly because she needed the sleep. He couldn’t imagine what kind of life she’d lived – how could she sleep when she was in a constant fight-or-flight state?
Yet she had slept for over twelve hours now, and he knew his presence was the only reason for it.
Finally, he saw her move, her eyelids flickering.
He kissed her. ‘Rise and shine.’
She opened her eyes and did a small stretch. ‘Scipio…’
‘I made you tea but it’s cold now.’
Summer turned to look at the bedside table. She smiled. ‘I like cold tea. Doesn’t burn my tongue,’ she said. ‘Looks to be a nice day outside. This room is bright even with the curtain closed.’ She pulled the sheet over her back as soon as she sat up.
Scipio gently uncovered her. ‘You don’t have to hide them.’ He placed his open palm on the biggest scar – below her shoulder blade, to the left of her spine – then he caressed the rest of them up and down, left and right; all of them. ‘It’s me. You don’t have to hide anything.’
She rubbed his arm. ‘You can still change your mind. I understand if you proposed to me in the heat of the moment; because I had pleased you and you found me holding your blade—’
‘I have thought it through. Last night, this morning when I watched you sleep. I want you to be my wife. Have you changed your mind, Summer?’
‘If I had, it would’ve been only because I didn’t want you to get hurt.’
‘Hurt is part of life. And if it’s you beside me, I can take all the hurt in the world.’
Summer flung her arms around Scipio. Her hug compressed his muscles.
‘I will do anything to protect you from any hurt,’ she said. ‘I love you.’
At the end of a long kiss, they smiled at each other. She reached for her tea and said, ‘A bit disappointed that you didn’t make breakfast.’
Scipio chuckled. ‘Because it’s already lunchtime, my lady.’
‘I need a shower. You don’t mind if I shower at home, do you?’
‘I’ve got your shampoo.’
‘Ummm… I’d feel better if I showered next door.’
Scipio put her fingers through her hair.
‘It’s all tangled,’ she said. ‘I can’t remember where I put my clothes.’
‘There,’ Scipio said. He had neatly laid her top, panties and pants on the chair next to the wardrobe.
She kissed him and walked naked to the chair.
‘I might take a bath, too,’ she said as she dressed. ‘You’re welcome to join me.’
Scipio hugged her from behind. ‘I need to make some calls.’
‘Oh… I forgot it’s Monday. What time are you going to the shop?’
‘Chris is on duty, so I’ll hang out with you today if that’s okay?’
‘Call if you want to join me. I’ll have my mobile next to me.’
‘I’ve seen your bath. I don’t think it can take the both of us,’ he said.
Summer giggled, then left.
Scipio drew the curtain, watching Summer swing her long legs over the fence, short-cutting the driveway to get to her front door. He would never change his mind about her. He turned to his bed and lay where she had been, hugged her pillow and ran his finger along the rim of the teacup.
A loud engine noise cut through the air. It irritated Scipio; only thugs drove like that. He rushed to the front door and looked to see whose car was responsible for it. An Alfa-Romeo he hadn’t seen before. But he couldn’t say the same about the driver. Carlton got out, accompanied by a woman he speculated was his girlfriend. The pair talked in French quite loudly as they approached Scipio’s door.
Scipio waited a few seconds after the doorbell rang, then opened the door.
‘Afternoon, Joseph,’ Carlton said cheerfully. ‘Meet Laura, my fiancée.’
‘Nice to meet you, Laura,’ Scipio said.
‘Aren’t you going to invite us in?’
‘Of course, come in.’
‘You have a nice place, Mr Davis,’ said Laura in a thick French accent.
‘Oh, call me Joseph,’ he said. He wanted to correct her that he was Joseph Russo, but he saved his explanation for now. Had Carlton told Laura he was his dad?
Scipio invited them to sit down and offered them wine, cut some cheese and opened a box of crackers.
‘You still know how to be a good host,’ commented Carlton. ‘And this house… wow… it’s still how I remember it. Cornelia used to sit there,’ he said, pointing at the rug in front of the TV stand, ‘playing that pink piano while I would play the tambourine. You remember that pink piano, right?’
Scipio didn’t say anything.
‘What’s wrong with your face?’
Scipio touched the corner of his mouth where he was bruised by Summer.
‘I got into a fight.’
‘Being sarcastic, are we?’
‘So, when’s the wedding?’ Scipio said.
‘French spring, next April.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘You’re invited. With your plus one, of course,’ Carlton said and winked.
Scipio smiled plainly.
‘We will have the wedding at Chateau de Launac,’ Carlton said in proper French, ‘It’s near Laura’s parents’ farm in Toulouse. And… we will be living in Toulouse permanently.’
Carlton showed Scipio the photos of the castle on his iPad.
‘That’s good news,’ Scipio said slowly, ignoring the iPad and looking at Carlton, trying to read what that meant for the blackmail.
Carlton turned to Laura and said something in French
Laura got up and looked around.
‘What are you looking for, Laura?’ Scipio asked.
‘I asked her to get some water,’ Carlton said.
‘Oh, the glasses are on the top cabinet in the kitchen. The right-most door.’ Scipio pointed.
‘Ah! Oui,’ Laura duly left the two men.
‘Well, thanks to her, you get away with it, Joseph!’ Carlton whispered. ‘She wouldn’t want this filthy house. And I could’ve insisted you give it to me just for fun. But hey, I have a heart. I have my happiness, why should I bring sorrow to others, aye?’ He tapped Scipio’s thigh a couple of times. ‘Besides, I don’t think this house means that much to you anyway. Maybe later I’ll think of something else.’
Scipio took a deep breath. ‘Why did Laura call me Mr Davis? Doesn’t she know your dad is dead? And I’m not him?’
‘She got confused,’ Carlton said. ‘She’s rich and beautiful, but she’s not that bright.’
‘Oh. Be nice!’
‘So, you have a neighbour,’ Carlton said, back to his cheerful self as Laura joined him.
‘Yes.’
‘That RAV4 looks familiar.’
‘Laura, what’s your family name?’
‘Baudin.’
‘I see,’ Scipio said. ‘I’m Joseph Russo, by the way, not Davis.’
‘Aha! Oui. Italian, yes?’ Laura grinned. ‘But your English is very good.’
Scipio smiled as Carlton rolled his eyes and shook his head behind Laura.
Laura showed the time to Carlton and told him something in French.
‘Ah, yes, we have to go, Joseph. Thanks for the wine and that lovely spread,’ said Carlton. ‘Don’t forget, 26 April. We’ll send you an invitation anyway. And you’ll put it up on the fridge, no doubt?’
Just as Scipio opened the door, the three of them caught sight of Summer, wearing barely-there shorts, and a tight white T-sh
irt that showed a clear silhouette of her breasts and nipples, about to climb over the fence to get to Scipio’s driveway. Seeing them, Summer quickly covered her chest and ran back into the Beam House.
‘Joseph!’ Carlton turned to Scipio and punched him on the shoulder.
‘She’s very shy,’ Scipio said. He didn’t even want to know what Carlton was thinking right now.
Laura made a remark in French that ended with ‘bra’, and for some reason she sounded very enthusiastic. Maybe seeing a braless woman had released her inner feminist?
‘Go on! You don’t want to be late … wherever you’re going,’ said Scipio, nudging Carlton to leave.
Carlton walked hand in hand with Laura back to the car, but Scipio noticed he couldn’t help stretching like a meerkat to catch a glimpse of Summer inside the Beam House. Carlton wasn’t just checking her out like he’d spotted ‘some pretty lady’, and when that boy turned slightly to look at him, something told Scipio he’d better watch out.
Summer curled up in a ball. Those people had seen her – she’d been dressed for Scipio – not for his visitors, let alone the sleazy guy with the lame number plate. She watched the Alfa-Romeo with its big C4R LTN plate drove off. Then she saw Scipio walking to her door.
‘You ok?’ asked Scipio.
‘Didn’t think you’d have any visitors. Lucky I wasn’t in your house. Who were they?’
‘My stepson and his fiancée. Carlton is Emily’s son from her first marriage. Part of me wanted them to have found us together in my house,’ he said. He waited for Summer’s reaction.
She blew air and let her head fall to Scipio’s chest.
‘Sorry… you’re uncomfortable with that, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘They invited me to their wedding, and Carlton teased me about bringing my “plus one” thinking I didn’t have anyone.’
‘I’ve seen him before. He flirted with me at the Woolies carpark.’
‘What a douche!’ said Scipio.
A douche indeed, and from his expression Scipio seemed to think of him as worse than a douche, but right now she had no interest in finding out why.
‘Hey… what’s wrong?’ Scipio squeezed her shoulders, noticing her grimace.
‘I need to sit down.’
‘Summer, what’s wrong?’
She sat on the edge of the seat, half squatting.
‘You look pale.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said and smiled. ‘I think I need food. You hungry? I’ve got some salmon and bagels. Maybe—’
‘You stay here. I’ll fix lunch,’ he said.
‘Offfsss…’ she moaned and went to the bathroom.
It wasn’t lack of food. It was her mid-cycle pain. She looked at herself in the mirror. She did look pale. No one had ever said that. She herself had never looked in the mirror when this happened. But Scipio had noticed and it made her want to show him all of her pain. She sat on the toilet, scrunching her lower stomach.
It was even difficult to pee. She gave up and cleaned herself.
Scipio knocked on the door and came in despite Summer not responding.
Summer closed her legs and covered her lap.
Scipio knelt in front of her. ‘Summer… I hurt you last night, didn’t I?’
He did, but the hurt had pleased her, and it connected her to him. Perhaps their sex had made her cramps worse right now, but how could she blame him? Last night she was sore, but adrenaline and other happy hormones had kept her going. Now that the chemicals had waned, her body’s aches had come back with a vengeance.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’d never felt what I felt with you last night. I will never forget last night. I’m okay.’ She smiled.
‘What did I say? You don’t have to hide.’
She leaned on him while still clutching at her stomach. She could take a kick or a punch, but this was agony that she couldn’t hide even if she’d wanted to.
‘It hurts. But it’s not you.’ She briefly lifted her head to kiss him. She paused to feel what had just happened. Admitting pain was not usually in her dictionary, but Scipio had rewritten it, and she was thankful for it. ‘These cramps are a regular thing. A couple of weeks before my period. I’ll be fine tomorrow.’
Scipio pulled her arm away from her stomach and wrapped it around his shoulder, and did the same with her other arm. Then he scooped her up; her shorts and panties were still hanging off her ankles.
In the living room he sat down on the sofa while still cradling her in his arms. He rubbed her belly in a circular motion while looking into her eyes. Summer sighed. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t want to change position, afraid of losing the comfort. He had a gentle touch for a muscle man, it was as if he was a doctor or a nurse.
Slowly he pressed his open palm on the right of her lower abdomen.
‘Aaahh…’ She sighed loudly this time.
Had he noticed her pressing there? He found just the right spot. It hurt, but as always with Scipio, it was good hurt.
‘Scipio….’ She moaned as she grimaced. This time his fingers squeezed her flesh deep, as if reaching for the source of her pain and wanting to burst it – gently, reassuringly.
Hormones masked her pain, but nothing soothed like Scipio. She didn’t have to get used to his touch. She was already used to it – this was the touch she’d always imagined a traditional husband would give, but Scipio was anything but traditional, he was magnanimous.
Summer exhaled long, whimpered, then inhaled. She buried her face in his chest, and just like that the pain became bearable.
‘Have you had it checked?’ Scipio said.
And her glistening eyes gazed at him. ‘I have, yes. It’s nothing. It’s just me.’
Scipio moved to adjust his posture. ‘Can I do anything else? Hot compress?’
She kissed him and broke down in tears. ‘You must’ve known Emily really well.’
‘I’m not sure about that.’
‘You know me well.’
‘I’d like to think so.’
‘After all, I’m not that different from other women, huh?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re my one and only. I want to take care of you.’
‘Where have you been all my life?’
‘We’re here.’
She nodded and closed her eyes.
‘You want the hot compress?’ Scipio whispered.
Still with her eyes closed she shook her head and mumbled, ‘Your warmth is all I need’.
And he kissed her and kept pressing her lower right ab.
‘Are you taking painkillers?’ he asked.
‘The doctor said my pain was functional pain, whatever that meant. So painkillers are useless. But I’m not one to take them anyway.’
‘Good.’ He nodded a couple of times and said ‘good’ again.
‘Really?’
‘Please don’t get me wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s not that I think you’re going to overdose, okay?’
She hadn’t thought that.
He continued, ‘Where… I guess where I’m coming from is… well, Emily shouldn’t have died so young. Painkillers killed her. I mean, I take painkillers all the time, but what I fear is the opioid type. The kind you would need for her type of pain. I didn’t know she went to multiple doctors to get the prescriptions. By the time I found out, it was too late. I guess I didn’t take care of her well enough. I didn’t even know her.’
‘Scipio… you can’t blame yourself,’ Summer said. ‘You may not feel you knew Emily, but I can assure you, you know me. Very well.’
‘I really hope so.’ He trembled.
She nodded.
‘Tell me what I can do.’
‘Just stay like this, your palm on my pain. And stay here with me tonight.’
Scipio looked at her. There was a long pause before he said, ‘Of course.’
‘You… don’t want to stay here?’
Summer knew he wished she would take her eyes off him to let him think. Apparently feeling the pressure, he threw her
a rueful smile.
‘Why are you smiling?’ Summer said.
‘Can I be honest with you?’
‘Sure.’
‘You have a… a very hard bed.’
This time Summer laughed. Her stomach contracted and she stopped for a moment. Then she released a silent ‘oh’.
‘Sorry…’
‘Huh! I remember you seemed to have a sore back that morning when you got rid of those metal dining chairs. So that was because of my bed?’
‘I’m an old man.’
‘You look pretty ripped for an old man,’ Summer said and rubbed his abs. ‘I love hard beds. I guess Tim remembered to ask Sandra to order one. He taught me karate. When I started my posture was bad so he suggested I try a hard bed. That’s what warriors had, according to him.’ She laughed again. ‘So… knowing that, I shall rephrase my question: can I sleep at your place tonight?’
‘Of course,’ Scipio said. This time with conviction.
Summer saw a new emotion on his face, as if for a moment he was living in a beautiful world with nothing to worry about.
22
A spear-throw away
Scipio winced as he sipped his flat white as he sat outside the Letterbox Café with Caine Lawlor.
‘What’s wrong with your…’ Caine pointed at Scipio’s mouth.
Scipio took a deep breath. ‘Hit a cabinet door.’
Caine chuckled. ‘When was the last time you saw an optometrist?’
‘I’ve never needed glasses.’
‘Maybe it’s time.’
‘You guys find out more about the donation?’
‘Ask Mary. Donor remains a secret. All I heard is we’re planning to upgrade and expand the facility, buy more medical equipment, and perhaps we might start paying you.’
Scipio shook his head. ‘I’m a happy volunteer, mate. Give yourself a pay rise. Or hire a few full-time carers or something.’
‘Hey, Joe!’ Vic the grocery store owner greeted Scipio as he walked past their table. It was Saturday morning and a lot of locals hung out here. Everybody knew everybody.
Caine shifted his chair closer and leaned towards Scipio, asking: ‘How’s Summer?’