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“A hotel?” she said, dumbly.
“Yes, it is easier, no?”
“But…I can’t leave my father, not now,” she said lamely.
“I will hire a nurse for the nights, so you don’t have to worry.” He moved closer to her and took her into his arms. “I am here to help,tesoro.”
She felt his arms, strong, comforting and allowed his strength to seep into her. The guilt she felt over her what she could only think of now as deceit lurked at the back of her mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He pulled her back a little so that he could see her face. His dark eyes searched hers, his own containing traces of puzzlement and hurt.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said. “I mean I wasn’t thinking. Everything moved so quickly, I’ve hardly had any time to think.”
He studied her, his desire to find truth in her words obvious. He picked up her hand and kissed the palm, turning it over to see the ring glinting on her finger in the late afternoon sunlight that poured through the window.
“Do you like it, Katerina? We can get a different one, a modern one, if it is what you prefer.”
She widened her eyes. “No, no. It’s beautiful.”
She heard her father call her name. She gave Giancarlo an apologetic look and made her way out of the room to the top of the stairs, answering him self-consciously.
“Move into our bedroom,” he shouted up to her.
She blinked. He’d always referred to his bedroom as “our bedroom,” as though her mother were still there, using the bedroom with him. She moved down the steps until she reached the bottom and looked in through the archway into the living room.
“Your bedroom?” she said, her voice quieter.
“Yeah,” he said. “You two will never fit in your bed, and the bed in Tom’s room isn’t much bigger. It’s best if you use our bedroom. It’s a king-sized bed. You’ll both feel more comfortable.”
She went to open her mouth to object, but shut it. She’d rather stay here, for so many reasons, primarily because she didn’t want to leave her father, nurse or not. But she was keenly aware of the tired furniture in her father’s bedroom, most especially the old bed that he’d had since her mother was alive. That would make it around twenty years old, emphasis on old, rather than antique. And did she really want to be in bed with Giancarlo here, with her father sleeping downstairs?
She bit her lip and made her decision. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll just go get it ready.”
Twenty
Kate lifted her wine glass to her mouth and watched as Giancarlo took a sip from his glass and made an effort not to grimace. She knew it was awful, compared to his standards, but it was all she could get when she popped out to pick up a few things to cook dinner. A dinner that would be more to Giancarlo’s taste, since she didn’t think he would care for the meatloaf and mashed potatoes that she’d originally planned because it was easy. They’d been all sold out of the fresh pasta, though, so she’d resorted to dried.
She looked down at her blouse, checking for any splatters. It was the last thing she needed, getting red pasta sauce on her pale blue Balenciaga silk blouse. She would need to be careful. She’d decided to unearth her wardrobe from her suitcase in an effort to make Giancarlo feel more at home in what he called his leisure clothes, but anyone here would call “dressing up.” Both of them were far too dressed up for squeezing around the kitchen table surrounded by the counters, stove, and a sink loaded with the detritus of her cooking.
“Nice, Katydid,” said Tom, as he took a large bite of the pasta. “You really upped your cooking skills in all your adventures.”
Beside him, Tamzin toyed with her food, shoving it around the plate with her fork as though it was a mop on a floor. She put her fork down and took a sip of her water. She’d brought a large pack of bottled water, glass, not plastic, because that didn’t decompose, or was it give off gasses into the water? Kate couldn’t remember, or keep up.
Both Tom and Tamzin had turned up earlier that day after her father had called Tom to tell him about Giancarlo’s arrival and Kate’s engagement to him. Tom arrived with Tamzin in tow, since she was here on a weekend visit. When Tom met Giancarlo, he’d given him a hearty handshake and made a visible effort to be pleasant. It was only in the kitchen, later, when Kate was stirring the pasta sauce, that he’d come in on the excuse of stealing a cherry from the dessert cookies she was making that he gave her a puzzled look and asked her about the engagement.
“I’m surprised,” he’d said.
“Surprised? Why? We’ve been together for a while.”
He looked at her a moment, shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Forget I said anything.”
“What about you and Tamzin?” she’d asked on impulse.
“What about us?” he said, a slight edge to his voice.
“You’ve been together for a while.”
