Cecilia rushes past me, yelling, “Bisa!”
As I reach them, Gabriel greets me with a warm smile. “Alice, this is my grandmother, Ana Maria.” He places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Vó, this is Alice, the occupational therapist here at the clinic.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Ana Maria. I’ve heard all about your incredible ability to whistle from Cece.” As I extend my hand to shake hers, she waves it away, pulling me in for a hug that is quick but tight.
“Call me Vó. And thank you for the work you’re doing here. The boys have been raving about you.” Her accent is thick, but also lovely. Like every word she says is intentional. My confusion must be written on my face as she explains, “This one and Rafa, they have only good things to say about you.”
I met Rafael a couple of weeks ago for a tour with Charlie. They were both so kind. He’s Owen’s friend and business partner, and another Machado brother. I wonderhow many brothers there are. But before my mind can wander too much, a familiar deep voice comes from behind me.
“Bença, Vó,” Arthur says before kissing his grandmother’s hand, then her cheek. She pulls him in for a hug, then palms his cheek, tapping it three times. Her smile is so big, her eyes nearly close altogether.
“So good to see you, Netinho.” Tears well in her eyes, but she quickly looks away, giving her attention to Cecilia, who wants to tell her about what we have done today. We all listen attentively as she recounts how she sat on Scout with no saddle today so she could feel how her body moves, and that she got to give her a carrot, and how you have to flatten your hand to make sure you don’t lose any fingers.
“Sounds like it was a good afternoon,” Gabriel says as he attempts to tighten the ponytail on his daughter’s head, which is currently hanging on by about five hairs.
“Yep. And Tio Arthur and Miss Alice are coming to my birthday party. Can we go home now?” Before she gets an answer, she’s already walking toward the spot she knows her dad always parks in.
Gabriel shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Alice. She got this idea in her head, and you know how it is. She’s determined.”
“I do know. I like that about her.” I admire it. She’s five, and she goes after what she wants without fear. “And if I won’t be in the way, I’d be happy to come.”
“It would mean a lot to her, actually. She really likes you.” Gabriel’s smile is kind, but the throat clearing behind me is not.
“We’ll be there,” Arthur confirms, and I run my tongue along my front teeth in an attempt to distract myself fromthe warm, fuzzy feelings that sentence gave me. “We” sure does sound nice coming from his mouth.
Ana Maria and Gabriel exchange a look I can’t decipher, then he says, “Great. I’ll text you both the details.”
We say our goodbyes, and Arthur and I go our separate ways, though I swear I feel him watching me the whole time. This man is trying to make me lose my mind.
By the time Friday ends,I’m beyond spent. I spoke to three real estate agents this week, who all told me I should gut and renovate Gran’s house before selling it to make more on the sale. I swear none of them heard me when I said I don’t have the money, energy, or desire to tackle a renovation. They also didn’t seem to understand that I want to get rid of the house as soon as possible.
Gran is continually getting worse, and my visits now are mostly to speak with the medical staff. Battling with the emotions that come with her illness and our strained relationship is becoming more than a hardship. At times, it’s an all-consuming, physical thing that leaves no room for anything else. The tsunami of feelings hits at the most random times.
I’m frustrated and tired.
So when I get back to the farmhouse and Arthur is outside in jeans with no shirt on, I’m not sure whether to feel more frustration or unadulterated joy. Luther rushes to greet me with no barks or jumps, only licks and tail wags.
“Hey, you.” Arthur sets down a few tools, and walks up to my Jeep, where I’m still petting Luther. He kisses me quickly on the lips in a completely natural and unforcedway, as if we’d been doing this for years, not weeks. “I’m almost done here, then I’ll take a quick shower. If you’re hungry, you don’t have to wait.”
Oh, but I’m hungry. Very, very hungry for this man standing in front of me with glistening skin and a spot of dirt on his cheek, wearing a backward hat and jeans that sit low on his hips. I’m starving.
But I don’t say any of that.
“I can wait.”
For the food, yes, I can wait. For him? I’d rather not.
“’Kay, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Need help with anything?” I’m a little obsessed with how at ease he is and how he’s always offering to help. I’m a little obsessed withhim.
I shake my head with a smile, and he winks at me before walking back to whatever he was working on. I sigh at Luther, who cocks his head, not having a clue what I’m swooning over.
“All right, pup. Let’s get this pizza out of the car and grab a cold drink. What do you say?” Turning his head the other way, he sticks out his tongue at me. “I’ll take that as an affirmative.”
True to his word, Arthur comes in a few minutes later, heading straight for the shower. I busy myself with prepping a salad to go with our pizza, then rush upstairs to change out of the dress I wore to see Gran and into something more comfortable.
When I step out of my room, Arthur opens the bathroom door and nearly walks into me.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, trying to step around me as he holds his towel. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s in nothing but a sheet of terrycloth, but more obvious than that is how his demeanor has completely shifted. This isn’t the carefree man I came home to minutes ago.
