14: The Visit

Melisa looked up, something not quite adding up.
"We've just come from lunch with Manuel." She pointed out.
"Oh, I've gone and ruined your family outing!" Felisa pressed her hand to her mouth in mock dismay.
"Either way—" Marta relaxed her shoulders "—I'm getting married tomorrow to merge the companies."
"Well, let me tell you — that little glow you have isn't something you get from someone who's just a business partner." Felisa pressed on.
"Don't go looking, because you won't find anything." Marta shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "I barely know the man — I don't even know his son's name. Like I said, it's purely business."
"You're so dull, Marta!"
"At our age, it's called being practical, Felisa."
"But Mum, you heard Manuel yourself—" Melisa looked away towards the coffee table "—I've been out a couple of times with his son. His name is... AAAAAH!"
Melisa leapt out of her chair.
Marta and Felisa both turned to look where the girl was staring.
"What's wrong?" Marta got to her feet.
"What is that?" Melisa was pointing at a dark shape on the floor.
Marta assumed Melisa thought it was a mouse — or perhaps a rat, given the size. But given the circumstances, had it been an animal, it would hardly have stayed to listen to three women talking. She reached out and pulled at the fabric.
"Don't touch it, that's disgusting!" Melisa was terrified.
When she pulled it out, they saw it was nothing more than a dark grey neck gaiter.
Felisa blinked, unsettled.
"That belongs to a man, sister-in-law." She narrowed her eyes at Marta with suspicion.
In a flash of quick thinking, Marta invented an excuse. Clumsy, but passable.
"I knew it was too big for me!"
"Is that yours, Mum?" Melisa eyed it warily, still half-expecting it to sprout legs and a tail.
Marta unfolded it and put it on — and for a brief moment, the scent of chocolate flooded her senses and she smiled like an idiot. She caught herself and corrected it.
"But it's so warm!" Marta made a show of snuggling it against her neck.
"Take it off, Mum — it's cringe!"
"Oh, Melisa, stop being such a drama queen!" Felisa jumped to her defence.
"It looks like a RAT!" Melisa stomped her feet. "Get that rat off your neck!"
"All right, all right — I'll put it away!" Marta headed to the bedroom.
As she walked, she slipped it from her neck. An involuntary smile spread across her face completely.
"What a thing to be addicted to — a body like yours," she heard in her own voice. She sighed and tucked it into the bedside table drawer.
The two women in the living room had to call her back twice.
When she returned, her cheeks were slightly flushed. Felisa noticed, but said nothing.
Melisa made her mother swear never to wear it in her presence, and left for home still carrying the fright in her body.
Felisa chose to stay with Marta rather than go with Melisa, claiming she had things to tell her about France.
Once Melisa was out the door, Felisa went for her suitcase and took it to what used to be her niece's room.
"That was just an excuse — because I think you have more to tell me than I have to tell you, Marta."
"Here we go with the speculation!" Marta complained.
"Don't want to?" Felisa gave her a knowing look. "I'll talk for both of us then!"
"Did you take photos?" Marta changed the subject.
If there is one thing Felisa loves more than gossip, it is showing off how well she photographs.
The woman produced a professional camera and took out the memory card.
They went through every photo Felisa had taken of the neighbouring country. She had them organised in folders, and Paris alone had more than ten.
Little by little, Marta began to feel tired and drowsy, despite it barely being nine in the evening.
Marta tried to shake off the lethargy by getting up from the sofa.
"Do you want something to eat?"
"Obviously!" Felisa smiled. "What have you got?"
"I'm making myself a toasted sandwich — do you want one?"
Felisa had followed her to the kitchen. She opened the fridge.
"With sliced tomato and lettuce." She took them out and handed them over.
"Fine."
Marta made the sandwiches and went back to the living room.
Each with dinner in hand, they left the photos scattered as they were.
"You haven't said anything about that thing on the floor." Felisa attempted to pick up the thread.
"What thing?" Marta played innocent.
"Your daughter's rat." Felisa put on her face of knowing what others miss. "The thing you hid with your bras in the bedside table."
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Marta looked away, but the colour in her cheeks was unmistakable.
"Oh, don't you?"
Felisa set her sandwich down on the table and bolted towards the bedroom.
Marta ran after her, but it was pointless even trying to catch her over a mere twenty metres.
"What is this?" Felisa held up the neck gaiter again.
Marta reached Felisa and tried to grab it.
"Let go of that — it's mine!"
"No it isn't. This belongs to a man—" Felisa moved it slightly and a trace of scent was released, a hint of chocolate "—and it smells of Axe Dark Temptation, which is absolutely rank."
"We are not fifteen years old, Felisa — give me that!"
"Wait — that's it."
"What?"
"The way you said that. It was longing, Marta."
"Don't talk rubbish, Felisa — it's mine and that's that!" Marta managed to wrench it from Felisa's hands.
She gripped it with both hands, her shoulders hunched, clutching the gaiter against her chest as though it were the most powerful thing in the world. Her flushed face and reddened, glistening eyes showed a Marta who was vulnerable and frightened.
"Marta, come on — it's just a neck warmer." Felisa came closer and placed a hand on her back to help her calm down. "Is it really that important?"
Marta was jolted back to herself by the question and looked down at her hands — but the scent of chocolate brought back the ache of wanting Mario in her arms. She looked at the sister of her late ex-husband, the woman who had once been her closest friend.
"Mario."
She said nothing more, but it was enough for Felisa to hold her in silence until she was calm.