AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hope you are hungry,” he said with one of his characteristic grins. “Food is almost ready.”
“Hey, man,” I said with a smile on my face. The inside of the house was pristine, and it reminded me of the old Victoria, polished and clean, but there were a few signs of life here and there. Plants lined the living room windowsill, and shoes littered the small entryway. There was a crooked picture hanging above the entry table. “Thanks for having me.”
Santiago grabbed the tea towel and wiped his hands, then threw his arms around me in a welcoming gesture. He laughed a deep laugh, then let me go. “You look like shit.”
I grunted. “I’m aware. So much for a welcome.”
“Fran, do you want to go unpack? I can show you to your room.” Victoria looked over to Santiago, who nodded and then smiled. Victoria led the way through a long hallway tucked on the right side of the home, where a few doors opened on either side. It looked lived in. Frames hung on both sides of the hall, filled with images of their lives: their friends and families, and themselves. And it was refreshing to see how these two loved each other and the people around them. “Bathroom is the door right across. And whenever you are ready, we’ll be out back. You’ll beable to find us.” She closed the door behind her, her steps heading back in the direction we’d come from just a minute earlier.
I took a deep breath.
One more day.
And then the timer reset itself, and the countdown started all over again. One day at a time, inching closer to the date.
Hopefully the mountain air would clear my thoughts, lessen the pain, make time go faster.
I shook my head, then stopped by the bathroom for a minute to freshen up. I followed the sound of female laughter coming from the patio and joined Santiago and Victoria, who were cuddling on the love seat, facing away from the house and looking out to the big yard. I opened the sliding door, and both of them turned their faces in unison, large, lovey grins plastered on their faces.
I couldn’t relate, but I smiled in return because it was contagious, even if for a fleeting second.
“How’s the city?” Santiago asked. He sat a little taller, draping an arm around Victoria’s shoulder and squeezing for a moment. I walked around them and sat in the lone chair arranged across from them, my back to the yard.
“You know, same.” I shrugged. He knew of my family’s quoteunquote fame, and he was asking, but not in as many words, about them. The things I couldn’t get away from because of my last name. “Eugenio is running again,” I mentioned but didn’t elaborate. My father had had a seat inCongress for years but had decided to run for governor in a hopeful step towards a potential presidency.
Santiago raised his eyebrows, and Victoria nodded, both understanding the political process and what it meant to take steps to become the highest elected official in the country. I didn’t give any more details, not wanting to dampen the mood with my family’s antics and, for lack of a better word, politics.
“Anyway, everything ready?” I asked, making it obvious I was ready to change the subject. “Are you all packed?”
“Not even close.” Victoria scoffed but then followed it up with an eyeroll. “This one here”—she motioned with her hand towards Santiago—“won’t even start packing until the day we leave.” She shook her head and looked over to her fiancé, giving him a wide, intimate smile.
“Oh, I meant to tell you, my sister will probably stop by to water the plants,” he said, looking around at the potted plants covering a large amount of the patio. I followed his gaze and turned my body to face the large yard lined on either side with flowering bushes, all different kinds of flowers of various sizes and colors. The grass was pristine, freshly cut, and a deep, deep green. The yard extended all the way to a line of trees, and that ended at the mountainside.
There were no fences between neighbors, but Santiago had mentioned that his family lived all on the same block in this town, so I assumed that they would cross into each other's yards when they needed to get to their homes. Itsounded like living in a planned community, where everyone greeted each other in the morning. Such a big contrast to the city, where it was rare that you ran into someone you knew.
“She has a really green thumb,” he continued, “so she’ll also water the plants inside.”
I nodded as I followed his eyes inside the house, looking at the plants in small pots by the window and beyond, into the living room.
“Genial,”I muttered. “It’s too much responsibility for me.”Right now.I could barely care for myself. I couldn’t even imagine caring for another living thing.
Santiago barked out a laugh, and Victoria looked at him in awe, like she’d never heard such a magnificent sound in her life. And the only thing I could do was smile in return because it really sounded ridiculous. But it was true.
He stood by the grill and asked a thousand questions, using the time until the steaks were ready to catch up on our lives. Victoria kept going back and forth into the house, bringing out a few things from inside to set the table for our meal.
After dinner we went back inside and sat in the living area.
“When did you move into this house?” I asked Santiago. Victoria was already in their room, giving us some space to chat between us both. “It’s very different from your other place.”
The last time I’d seen him, he was still with Clara, hisformer girlfriend. They had just moved in together, and their shared apartment was nothing like this house. This looked more like a home, like both Santiago and Victoria had poured part of their personalities into it. It was cozy but unexpected.
“I bought it when I took that sabbatical, remember?”
I nodded, remembering how he’d worked a highly publicized case a few years back that had drained all his energy. He was a different man after that case, and judging by what had happened afterwards, it really did change him. “It was an impulse buy, believe it or not.”
I chuckled at his tone, relaxing into the large sofa by the fireplace. It was full of candles, some of them melted on the bottom of the firebox, like they had been lit over and over again.
“Does it never get cold enough that you need to light a fire?” I asked, curious what the melted wax meant.
