The Unwanted Wife (22 page)

“So what did you want to ask me?” She finally asked, without acknowledging his fervent words. The omission did not go unnoticed and Sandro flinched slightly before taking a deep breath and levering himself up off his knees to sit down on the sofa beside her, angling his body so that he could face her.

“I want you to meet my father,” he repeated and her eyes showed her confusion.

“I’m not sure I understand… you know that doctor Shelbourne has prohibited any flying during my third trimester,” he smiled slightly before shaking his head.

“Theresa,
cara
, you really need to catch up to the twenty-first century,” he teased half-heartedly, it had become a standing joke between him and
Rick
, of all people, that Theresa was so technologically-backward. She could barely operate her mobile phone, so e-mailing, instant messaging and every other form of electronic –
ing
ing, left her completely baffled. She had wiped out the hard drives on three laptops in as many years and now kept her records strictly on paper in a filing cabinet in her office.

“So then, what do you have in mind?” She asked curiously.

“Certainly
nothing
that involves either you or my father flying anywhere… have you never heard of video-conferencing?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair that had slipped from its anchor behind her ear, to swing into her face. He always did little things like that lately, he was always touching her, petting her and after her initial discomfort with all the contact, Theresa now barely even noticed it, simply enjoying the pampering.

“That thing where you have a meeting and you can see people on the other side of the world on a monitor in the room?” She asked vaguely and he grinned slightly.

“Yes… I often speak to my family in Italy by those means,” he revealed.

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “So when do you want to do it?”

“I was thinking about tonight?” He half-asked and her stomach did a slow, nervous roll before she nodded again.

“Okay,” she said again, actually physically incapable of saying much else.

“They’re going to love you,” he reassured, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“They?” She asked queasily, suddenly filled with doubts. “I thought it would be only your father.”

“My mother and grandmother will probably be there… maybe a couple of my sisters. With my father so sick, they’re probably all there.”

“Your father’s at home?” He nodded, his eyes darkening again.

“He refuses to be hospitalized, he says that if he’s going to die, he wants to do it at home… he has the best medical care and facilities money has to offer to him at home.”

“That’s understandable,” she nodded sympathetically. “He’s waited so long to go back home.” There was a moment’s awkward silence.

“I’m really glad you could get it back for him, Sandro,” she blurted impulsively. “Even if it cost you more than it should have.” Again the silence, before he nodded tautly, his grim face looking hewn from rock.

“Uhm… when do you want to do it?” She broke the uncomfortable silence a few moments later and he cleared his throat. “Do they know I’ll be… are they expecting to meet me?”

“I’ve been making noises about wanting them to meet you for a while now,” he informed. “So they won’t be too surprised by it.”

“Always thinking ahead aren’t you?” She asked caustically.

“If you mean that I’d anticipated having to introduce you to my dying father by these less than ideal means, then
no
, I wasn’t really preparing for this eventuality!” He snapped irritably.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered defensively.

“Of course you didn’t,” he agreed sarcastically and stung, she managed to lever her bulky form up from the sofa, ignoring him when he jumped up lithely to offer assistance.

“I’m tired, I think I’ll take a nap before dinner,” she said wearily. “I’ll see you later…” She left him behind without a single backward look, just plain sick and tired of the constant tension that they both had to live with.

“Are you ready?” He asked her quietly a few hours later. They were both in his huge study where he had set up the computer and camera for the video conference. No simple webcam and computer screen for Sandro, he had proper video camera with a large screen television screen set up. He explained that it would enable to allow his family to see both of them at the same time, further explaining that his parents had a similar setup at their home.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she nodded nervously and he led her to a large, comfortable sofa that was facing the camera. He made sure she was sitting comfortably before kneeling in front of her unexpectedly.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said softly, his dark eyes piercing as they stared intently into hers. “Being around you is a curiously humbling experience… I do not believe I have ever apologized this much to one person in my entire life before. I always seem to be getting it wrong with you. ”

“You’re under a lot of emotional strain at the moment, Sandro… and I know that I probably wasn’t making it any easier on you. Please just forget about it.” He sighed deeply before nodding and sitting down next to her. He picked up a small remote control from the coffee table in front of them and started up the camera, indicating towards the blinking red light that he had told her would mean that the camera was on. An image of an elderly couple suddenly filled the previously blank screen of the big television to the left of the camera. Broad smiles suddenly lit up their faces and they both started chattering at the same time. Theresa knew that they were his parents from the pictures she had seen in Sandro’s study. His father looked a lot frailer and more tired than the robust man in the photographs though and Theresa could see from the sallow skin and sunken eyes, how very ill the older man was.

Sandro was smiling warmly as his parents continued to chatter, before he finally raised a hand and they reluctantly fell silent. He said something to them in Italian, before indicating towards Theresa, who sat with a frozen smile on her face. She wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, she wasn’t even sure if they spoke English.

“Mama, papa… I know this has been a long time in coming,” he said, in heavily accented English. “But this is Theresa…
la mia moglie
, my wife.”

“
Piacevole per incontrarli
,” she murmured haltingly, not sure if she had said it right or if they even understood her but the smile Sandro directed down at her was filled with so much overwhelming pride and tenderness that Theresa felt bathed in its warmth. He entwined the long, lean fingers of one hand with hers but she didn’t understand why he felt the need to make the gesture when their hands were out of the camera’s sight.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she repeated in English, in case the couple hadn’t understood her, which seemed likely if their baffled expressions were anything to go by. His mother’s lips pursed in what looked like disapproval but his father’s smile broadened and he said something in rapidfire Italian that Theresa didn’t stand a chance of understanding.

“My father says that you are truly beautiful,” Sandro translated for her. “And that he is very happy to finally meet you.” Her eyes flooded with tears and she nodded slightly.

“Thank you...
grazie
,” she smiled warmly at the fragile looking old man and he looked delighted by it. He once again said something in high speed Italian and Sandro chuckled before responding in an amused voice. It was obvious that they were talking about her and she turned to Sandro waiting for the translation, when it didn’t look like it was forthcoming, she prodded him with a nudge from her shoulder and he grinned before saying something in a wry voice to his mother and father before turning to her with that same warm humour in his eyes.

“My father says that while you look as sweet and docile as an angel he does not imagine that a woman with your red hair can be easy to live with. He believes that the angelic exterior must hide a fiery temper...”

“Oh?” She asked in a deceptively calm voice, even while she narrowed her eyes at him. “and what did
you
say?”

“I told him that he definitely knows women a lot better than I do because when I married you I thought that the angel was all there was, until I provoked the fiery demoness into showing herself, to my detriment.”

“Demoness?” She asked in a highly offended voice and both his father and he chuckled simultaneously.

“Easy
cara
,” he lifted his free hand in a gesture of surrender and his father burst into warm, genuine laughter, the sound so happy and carefree that for an instant everyone, including his wife simply stared at him with huge smiles. The older man finally brought his laughter under control and said something in Italian, which seemed to be aimed at Theresa. She looked at Sandro for a translation and he hesitated for a millisecond before clearing his throat and turning back toward Theresa.

“My father says that it’s good to see me with a woman who isn’t intimidated by me, who can give as good as she gets. He thinks we will have strong sons and daughters...” he cleared his throat slightly before continuing, even though the huskiness persisted. “He is honoured to call you daughter and is proud that his son’s children will come from a worthy woman like you.”

“Oh...” Theresa whispered, her hand going up to cover her mouth and her eyes flooding with tears. “Oh God.”

“
Cara
,” his soft voice in her ear pleaded with her to keep it together and she nodded, closing her eyes briefly to keep her surging emotions under control, before bracing herself and opening her eyes to meet the wise, old eyes of a man who was halfway across the world.

“Thank you,” she told him again. “You are so very kind to say that. I am equally proud to know that my child comes from a strong family such as yours. I look forward to the day I can present my son to you, sir.”

“Or daughter,” Sandro inserted smoothly, before translating what she had said to the beaming older man.

“You are... lovely girl. I sorry for all trouble,” the man suddenly said in broken but understandable English and Theresa’s lips trembled with emotion. “You make my boy happy. I see this...
grazie
. I so worry... but I see now, he very happy with you. Very much love here. I see.”

She couldn’t respond to that with much more than a nod and another emotional
grazie
, overwhelmed by the perception that had allowed the sick old man to see how much she loved his son. He and Sandro were now having a solemn conversation and the older man started pausing more and more frequently, seeming to lose track of his thoughts more and more until his wife stepped in and called a halt to the conversation.

“Mama says he is tired and needs to take his medication and rest,” he whispered to Theresa, as they watched the older man protest half-heartedly before allowing himself to be wheeled, for he was in a wheelchair, out of the room with a few last farewells to Sandro and Theresa. Sandro’s hand was squeezing hers so hard that it stopped the blood flow into her fingers but Theresa didn’t protest, knowing that Sandro was probably wondering if it would be the last time he would ever see or speak to his father. They watched in silence as the door closed behind his mother’s ample form before they both suddenly became aware of the fact that another person was in the room on screen. A wizened old woman suddenly plonked herself into the seat, Sandro’s mother had just vacated and Sandro’s entire face lit up.

“
Nonna
!” He greeted with warm enthusiasm and turned to Theresa, who had already gleaned who the little, old lady was. She was tentatively starting to smile, when the woman suddenly launched into speech, her voice low and furious. Whatever she was saying wiped the smile off Sandro’s face in seconds and she watched as his eyes darkened in fury and his lips tightened in an expression she was more than a little familiar with. He released Theresa’s hand and hissed something equally dire sounding back at his grandmother, who gasped in horror before launching into an even angrier seeming tirade. By this time two younger women, whom she recognised as Sandro’s sisters had stepped into the room and upon hearing whatever it was their grandmother had said added their own two cents’ worth until there was nothing but unintelligible squawks coming from the speakers. Suddenly the old woman’s words turned to English and her eyes were seemed trained on Theresa.

“
You
make my family miserable! You take my grandson and keep him away from his family, keep him away from his dying father... you nothing but selfish. Why you want a man who no love you? No pride... you no pride. He love a good woman, he no love
you
!”

Theresa gasped in horror and raised her hands to her mouth, defenceless against the hatred she saw burning in the old woman’s eyes. Her eyes flooded with anguished tears and Sandro swore shakily before saying something soft and dangerous sounding to the three women on the other end of the camera but Theresa had blocked them all out and was struggling to her feet, ignoring Sandro’s desperate protest.

She was out the door and halfway up the stairs before he caught up with her.

“She’s old,
cara
,” he said desperately, holding onto her arm as she tried to wrest herself away from him. “She’s old and stubborn. What she said was
not
true.”

“I
didn’t
make your family miserable?” She asked brokenly. “Of course I did, Sandro. You know that’s true... I didn’t keep you away from them? Or away from your dying father? I did that too. You don’t love me? No news there. You’re in love with someone else? Again. Old news... and she was right. I have absolutely
no
pride. None whatsoever... if I did I would never have stood for this sham of a marriage. But everything she said was true. So she was just being honest... and that’s
my
shame to deal with.”

“Theresa, please...” she didn’t know what he wanted from her. She yanked her arm from his grip and found herself teetering desperately on the edge of the step... nearly falling until he yanked her back towards his strong body and braced himself to absorb her weight.