Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“I understand.” I miss my brother so much. I long for the Charlie I destroyed.
He looks at me with scrunched-up eyes. “Maybe you could use some hypnotherapy yourself. You lived through a traumatic experience with the accident, and the trauma is often ongoing for the ones left to take care of the injured.”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“It won’t do harm trying. Isn’t that what we said for Charlie?”
“Really, I’m all right.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
I hold out my hand. “Thank you. May I walk you out?”
His handshake is firm. “I want to say goodbye to Magda before I go, but don’t worry, I know my way.”
Gabriel
We’re at the dinner table. Magda is at the head and Valentina opposite me next to Charlie. Our server enters with the wine.
“No wine for Charlie or me, thank you,” Valentina says, as every night.
“Water, ma’am?”
“Sparkling, please.”
Magda raises a finger. “Still. Sparkling will give you indigestion.”
Valentina doesn’t argue, but I pour my wife a glass of sparkling water. Magda’s look is condescending, as if I’m a child who obstinately defies her for the sole purpose of creating conflict.
When the roast is served and Valentina adds salt, Magda says, “Not so much salt. It’s not good for the baby.”
I pin Magda with a look. “Her blood pressure is fine.”
Magda takes a sip of wine. Her gaze moves over Valentina. “You couldn’t fit a tighter dress?”
The black dress was my choice, and Valentina looks stunning in it. It shows off her growing belly just the way I like. I want the world to see she’s carrying my seed in her womb.
Valentina shifts on her chair, but I wink at her. “I like it.”
Magda makes a sarcastic sound. “You would.”
“May we please eat in peace, now?” I ask pointedly.
Pinching her lips together, Magda gives me the stink eye.
For a while we eat in silence, except for the noise of Charlie’s cutlery. He has a habit of hacking everything on his plate to tiny pieces.
Halfway through the meal, Magda is on her third glass of wine. From time to time she shoots an irritated glance in Charlie’s direction, her eyes focused on the knife he drags through the meat.
As if she can’t stand looking at him butchering his meat any longer Magda turns sideways in her chair, cutting Charlie from her peripheral view. “Any news from Carly?”
The food goes stale in my mouth. Magda knows it’s a sensitive subject and one I don’t care to discuss at the dinner table. I swallow and take a drink. “Nothing new.”
“I miss her.” Magda sighs. “When is she coming home? Isn’t her weekend visit long overdue?”
Charlie drops his knife. It makes a loud clang as it hits the plate. Magda jerks. She pinches her eyes shut for five seconds, probably counting to get control over her patience.
“I said––” she starts.
“I heard what you said. Sylvia and I don’t work like that, and you know it. Carly is old enough to decide when she wants to visit. She knows her room is always ready.”
“Maybe you should force it, Gabriel.” Her gaze keeps on flittering to Charlie who’s pinching each miniscule piece of food on his plate with a loud clank of his fork. “You’re too easy on her.”
Charlie takes a bite and chews exactly ten times before he swallows. He repeats this with every morsel.
Magda turns to Valentina. “You should take the room on the left of yours for the baby. Have you thought about decorating?”
Valentina glances at me. “Gabriel and I haven’t discussed it, yet.”
The sweet, incredible woman she is, she’ll allow me to be a part of creating a room for Connor. That’s what I decided to call him, after my great-grandfather whom I greatly admired.
I give her a smile, telling her how much she pleased me. “What would you like?”
“I was thinking bright colors like green and blue with a jungle theme. Something happy.”
If she wants monkeys and elephant tusks on the walls she can have that. She can have anything she wants.
As usual, Magda has to throw a spike in the wheel. “Green and blue?” She chortles. “It won’t fit with the rest of the house decor. I saw a beautiful crib in whitewashed wood with a beige, hand-embroidered duvet. It will look perfect with off-white walls and sand-colored curtains. We should replace the carpet with tiles. A carpet will get too dirty with a baby.”
Valentina sits up straighter. “Thank you for your input, but it’s not my style.”
It’s the first time Valentina defies Magda so openly, and Magda doesn’t like it. I, on the other hand, am ecstatic that my tiny wife has enough backbone to stand up for what she wants.
“Well,” Magda looks between us, “this is still my house.”
It’s a winning statement to an argument. There’s not much Valentina can say to that, and the smug look on Magda’s face says she knows it.