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I didn’t have time to dawdle. I needed to reacquaint myself with the plans for the teaching days. Since I hadn’t left Aldric with much notice when I’d left, he likely had to have adjusted some things. My eyes scanned the paperwork even though I was focused intently on what was missing in the room the entire time, and the woman taking Aldric’s place seemed to annoy me more than he did.
Teaching was exhausting that day, and I felt like I was trying to pull out my words through glue. Yet, I managed to keep myself afloat with the most plastic smile I could muster behind the podium. I left the last class with a cheery farewell that I didn’t feel at all, and when I checked my phone to see if Aldric had answered my email, I saw nothing.
I was angry, but a small amount of concern also took root in those flames of frustration.
I pushed it all out of my head as I got ready to go home, knowing that Ciro could soothe the tumultuous emotions in my heart.
Chapter 15
Aldric
Iwasontheplane by the time I received Roseline’s email. Her demand for answers made sense, and I had expected it to some extent, but there was a fierceness behind those pixelated words, and I could tell from how she phrased things. A frustration she didn’t quite vocalize and one I didn’t plan on.
What was bothering her so much? I figured she’d be happy not having to deal with me and still having the ability to get her teaching credits. I thought going back to Greece was a win for both of us. Yet now I sat staring at the email until I finally had to shut my phone off, confused by her response. I had no desire to answer her until I could come up with something satisfactory for both of us.
She didn’t need to know my current circumstances; I didn’t want pity when I wasn’t even upset. But the only other reason would make it seem like I was running away from her and what she had told me. Which I wasn’t. I didn’t believe her confession enough to be doing so. There was no possible way I was her child’s father. I had been and always was safe, and why would she go so far as to avoid telling me? It’s not like she couldn’t have benefitted from my income, and my wife had died long before our first night together at the conference, so there was no moral reason to avoid it.
My mind wandered to that wonderful night. It was so perfect. How could I be in this situation now?
Roseline was a confusing equation to me, something I couldn’t solve. Was she claiming he was mine now because she wanted money? Did she even know my financial status? We never talked of it, I don’t flaunt it, especially at work. She hadn’t asked for money, but she had looked extremely upset, even hurt when I’d refused to entertain the idea of her son being mine. I tapped the arm on my seat curiously as I stared out the window, looking at the puffy clouds and the pink hue cast on the sky by the setting sun, trying desperately to find a fraction of peace. Yet, knowing I was leaving behind a mess of work and an even more chaotic social relationship.
At the same time, I flew off to deal with the tangled family that I hadn’t even talked to since I was a child made my stomach flip rebelliously. Still, I found myself drifting off halfway through the flight, dipping into a dream that smelled like orange blossoms and sun-warmed skin. Roseline was in it, and her pale green eyes sparkled as she writhed under my touch, her breath coming out harshly while my fingers searched for the spots that made her cry out for more.
I could feel my cock aching in my pants as I ground down against her thigh, my lips parting to gasp for air. Her fingers, busy trailing my back, wandered over my hip to brush against the growing bulge. I awoke with a start when the plane shuddered, and the flight crew belted out an announcement over the speakers. I looked around, hoping no one had noticed what I had been lost to in my sleep. Thankfully, everyone was more concerned with the turbulence information.
“What’s going on?” I asked the stern-looking man seated next to me. He responded with a thick accent that I recognized as Italian, “We might need to land at a different airport due to turbulence and then take another flight out when it calms down.” I frowned and glanced down at my watch. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I couldn’t do much now. If that was the case, safety was more important than speed. I would pay respects to my grandfather either way. I would fix things somehow.
As it turned out, we had to make an emergency landing. Thankfully, the plane appeared in good condition, and we were scheduled to take off the next day. I notified my family, who would be waiting for me, and then concerned myself with finding a place to camp at the airport. I did not want to rush out of a hotel the following day to catch my flight. I couldn’t take my mind off Roseline as I dozed off on a stretch of seats. I was worried about someone who had irritated me so much at one point in my life that I could now officially say I missed her. As I felt unconsciousness grip me and drag me under, I wondered if she despised me.
We arrived a day later than planned, but my Aunt still met me at the airport. She tried to speak Greek to me, but it wasn’t a language I’d heard in decades. So, I talked to her in English instead, and I must say that her English was far superior to my Greek. “Is Grandfather still with us?” My words were more clinical than I preferred, but I couldn’t help myself. “Yes, though it is expected in the next week he will pass,” she murmured, her voice thick with sadness. “I am glad you were able to make it here.”I agreed with a grunt. But something inside me was uneasy about being able to have a civil conversation with the part of my family that had been estranged from me for so long. I paused to watch people rush by, my thumb pressed against the strap of my duffel bag.
I didn’t feel a connection until we were on the family property. When I exited the car, the scent of oranges and their blossoms filled my nose. The distant smell of salinity from the sea floated among the fruity notes, and I just stood there and breathed, taking in everything around me as if it were my very life force. My Aunt didn’t rush me because she knew how I felt. At the time, I was transparent, and she could see the hole in my heart slowly filling and the cracks in my skin that once showed hollow pain now filled with bright light.
I didn’t realize how much I would feel at home here. I almost felt more at home here than in my condo. It was strange how my limbs suddenly tingled, and my chest seemed lighter. “I never feel quite the same way I do anywhere else than I do here,” my Aunt opined softly as if she were sharing a secret.
“Yeah,” I muttered, unsure how to express my feelings. “Oh! Let me take those.”I held out my hand for the bags weighing her down, but she just shook her head, “You are our guest. Let’s go, the others are waiting.”
“Oh, alright,” I sighed, giving in to her stubborn hospitality and trailing behind her quick steps. “Others?” I thought.
I noticed how much had changed, how the orchard had spilled into the front yard. They now had a plum and a peach tree. Their vegetable garden took up most of the front yard that the trees didn’t, and a carefully inlaid stone wall surrounded them. We made our way up a slate path, each slab a different shade of moss green and coppery brown. It was beautiful today; I had arrived mid-afternoon, so the skies were still a clear blue with barely any wisps of clouds interrupting it. It was, however, hot with that thick humidity.
I’d once lived in California, and now I can appreciate how that had been great weather, and I think I got spoiled there. We arrived at the large estate I’d known so well as a child, with its familiar low white walls and clay roof. As big as it was, it looked so welcoming as I noticed laundry hanging out in the lines through a window into the backyard.
We walked through the front door with a stained glass of blood orange covering half of it.
“Your grandfather will probably be sleeping until dinner,” she said. “He isn’t eating much lately.”
“Alright,” I responded, but it was mostly halfhearted, my attention taken away by the interior décor. Pictures of family, paintings of farms and the past and current property I stood on, and expensive hand woven rugs decorated the walls.
It smelled like lunch was still underway; the scent of garlic, tomatoes, olives, and cheese wafted from the kitchen. I followed my Aunt around a long solid wall after we set my luggage down in the entryway. A handful of people were murmuring, probably trying not to wake Grandfather. They all sat around a large wooden table, and it showed the wear and tear of a well-loved piece of furniture that had been around for many generations.
A memory flashed through my mind: I sat down with my brother and ate pasta at some cookout near this table. I smiled softly, which was right when everyone turned to stare at me. I stared back, trying to place names on faces but I couldn’t. They had all changed so much.
“This is Aldric; he came to pay his respects,” my Aunt announced as she pushed me forward. I sighed, wishing I’d had a chance to wash off the smell of hours of travel from my body.
“Welcome! Welcome!” a tall but younger man chirped. “I’m your cousin Nicholas. So glad you could visit.” His friendly smile warmed my heart, I remember him now, and the many days we play in the orchard. Even those present when our two families were split apart seemed welcoming at this meeting, which surprised me because I wasn’t sure how it would go.
I felt strangely out of place; even though a small part of me felt hope grow in my chest, I was still suspicious and hesitant to let that feeling of joy grow. Instead, I focused on the food on the table.
