Shadows Of The Past. Frances Housden
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it will look different.” Work wouldn’t always be this frantic. One day soon he’d be able to indulge in the things he’d never had, like good paintings and pieces of furniture to his own taste that would take away the blank-canvas effect.
“I wasn’t going to say that. But from the little I saw of the apartment when you picked up your gear, it didn’t reflect your personality. It lacks your warmth.”
He hadn’t expected her be so perceptive, not when he’d been doing his damnedest to make sure their relationship was about sex, sex and more sex. Getting to know Maria better bore some considerations that went beyond trying to get her into bed with him. “Dare I take that as a compliment?”
“That would depend on how you see yourself.”
This was a moment that called for a kiss. On the other hand, in his Porsche Boxter only a contortionist could achieve the desired effect with any elegance.
He settled for tucking a few errant strands of slippery black hair behind her ear. It gave him a better view of her profile, short nose, full lips and the small mole that drew attention to them. A slight movement toward him turned his gesture into a caress as his fingers grazed her cheek. He felt a short sharp jolt in his chest. Face on, her features became twice as heart stopping and he had to force his reply out of a larynx gone rusty. “Definitely a compliment then. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me too soon. If I know Mamma, she’ll want chapter and verse about you and your family. So don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Warning heeded, but I doubt it’s necessary, I’ll only be there overnight.” No way could he tell Maria’s mother about Milo Jellic. Chances were if he did, his stay was likely to be of shorter duration. He’d learned that with some people of an older generation the sins of the fathers were still visited on their sons, especially with his father’s dubious history.
Bile spiked in his throat, taking him back to a past he’d thought was well and truly gone.
Abruptly he spun the wheel and pulled the car out onto the road. The sun had nearly finished its plunge into the hills behind them, and ahead scraps of pink reflection were strewn across the sea like silk banners.
With distance to add magic, house windows shone out of a denser patch of horizon, draping it with festive lights, a scene undiluted by knowing the truth. “I take it that’s Kawau Island?”
“Yes, it looks so different at this time of year. The population triples round the bays and inlets at Christmas. Home will be quiet in comparison. We ought to be there soon.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He was used to meeting strangers, selling himself and his ideas, that’s what had got him where he was today. What was wrong about spending one night out of a lifetime where, for a change, he had nothing to gain?
Except maybe their daughter? But then, he only wanted to borrow Maria, not keep her for good.
“How far to go now?” he asked as they sped down the hill and the lights on the horizon disappeared from view.
“We’re almost there. Look, over to the left. Can you see the lights winking through the vines? That’s the southern edge of our boundary.”
The car headlights illuminated a two-story white house with a blue roof and matching shutters. Welcoming lights shone out from the front porch. Kids’ picture-book stuff. And he was the guy whizzing the princess home. What did that make him, white knight, or wizard with evil intentions?
Only time would tell.
Rosa congratulated herself that when Maria had called earlier, to ask if Franc could stay the night, she hadn’t let her excitement show. This was an event that required marking on the calendar after all these months; her daughter was bringing the man she was dating home. The mystery man she’d wanted to keep to herself for a while. She supposed she couldn’t blame her; the Costellos en masse might scare away a prospective suitor.
Instead of the multitude of questions Rosa had wanted to ask, she’d simply said, “Yes, yes, bring him with you, we’ll see you soon,” and hung up.
From the window, she watched the sports car negotiate the gravel driveway. With its top down she could see Maria’s friend was exactly as she’d described him all those months ago. The car’s momentum blew his dark hair back from his forehead, a strong wide forehead. He looked reliable, the kind of man who wouldn’t hurt her baby, she thought with relief. At last she and Papa could go ahead with their plans without worrying.
She’d probably taken her mother away from the stove. Mamma loved to cook and always overdid the food at the holiday season, but then that was Mamma.
Maria knew that when they got inside, the house would be filled with the delicious aromas of lemons, dried fruits and spices. And tomorrow morning, her sister and sisters-in-law would add to the feast till the house overflowed with people and food.
Mamma was out on the porch by the time they drew up. The shutters behind her had faded to a milky-blue and the wraparound porch was overgrown with jasmine, but Maria wouldn’t change a thing. That’s what made it home.
Franc helped her out of the car just as her mother made it to the steps. Tiny and plump, her dark hair liberally streaked with silver, it didn’t stop her from leaping down the steps like an eager teenager.
Maria knew what was coming of old.
From one step up, Mamma easily reached her face, running her hands over it, looking into her eyes. “You’re so pretty, but why don’t you get contacts and let people see your eyes properly?” Then before Maria could reply, she cut her off by asking, “Have you been eating properly? You look thinner.”
“Never miss a meal, Mamma. I’ve been working hard.”
She saw her mother look past her shoulder at Franc as he pulled their bags out of the trunk. “Playing hard too, maybe. You need your sleep.”
“I’m okay, Mamma, don’t worry. Come meet my friend.”
“Franc, I’d like you to meet my mother, Rosa Costello.” Maria pulled him over. “Mamma, this is Franc Jellic.”
Franc held out his hand. He had expected someone more like Maria, but this little woman had hands like quicksilver, and their movement added emphasis to every word she spoke.
Maria finished introducing him. “Franc’s family came here from Dalmatia.” It was as if by telling her mother this, she created a bond between them that Rosa would approve of.
“Great, this year we’ll have a United Nations. I expect you know Papa and I are from Italy, but did Maria tell you Kris, her brother-in-law, is German.”
Rosa smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling as she took his hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Franc.” Reaching up, she gave his cheek a gentle tap. “You be good to my girl.”
“Oh, Mamma.” Maria protested loudly, as if shocked.
Rosa just laughed. “Franc understands.”
“You could say I got the message.” Could this woman see right through him? He tightened his gut. What happened when he got inside, would they bring out the thumbscrews?
“See, I told you, he understands. I’m glad this daughter of mine has brought you to meet us at last. Welcome to our home.”
Franc darted a glance toward Maria, waiting for her to correct the misunderstanding. When she didn’t, he began to say, “No—”
“I know,” cut in Rosa. “No time. People in Auckland are always busy, but you’re here now. That’s all that matters. Come on inside and meet the others.” To Maria, she said, “Papa gave me a moment to have you to myself.”
“I bet he’s just keeping out of the way in case you start weeping all over us. He knows how sentimental you are at Christmas.” Maria stepped between them, slipping a hand through each of their arms, separating them as they climbed the