35: Some Keys

Melisa, who had been distracted by her phone for a moment, came over with purpose.
"I think I've worked out what's going on, Mum."
Marta glanced at her watch.
"It's eight in the evening, sweetheart — make it quick."
"I've been watching Mario and he looks at you differently."
Marta pressed her hand to her face with the weariness of someone who has heard too many theories about the poor boy.
Julián, who caught the gesture of exhaustion, looked at Melisa and smiled.
"Do you still not believe that girlfriend Mum saw actually exists?"
"Look, at this point I don't care whether she exists or she's just a friend — she could be his cousin from Valencia for all I care!"
"How rude, little sis!"
"Yes, you laugh." She looked at her mother. "He behaves like he's in love with you, Mum."
"It can't be as extreme as all that!" Marta tried to play it down — though she couldn't stop her gaze from escaping towards Mario for a fraction of a second.
"You're not alarmed?" Melisa had now come closer to the truth than before, though still not quite there.
"Alarmed? Not at all!" Marta deflected the suspicion as best she could. "Should I be?"
Melisa's expression of astonishment froze.
"I don't know — are you married to his father?"
"Good to know." She crossed her arms, drily.
Julián put his hand over his mouth — the contrast between his mother's and sister's positions struck him as very funny.
"Mum is an attractive woman," he said, "and she's won over the father and the son. Is it so strange that they both find her appealing?"
"It makes me deeply uncomfortable that you're turning into a MILF." Melisa was visibly uneasy.
"What's that?" Her brother leaned forward, looking at her with curiosity.
"For God's sake, Julián — you can be so clueless!"
The boy typed the English acronym into his phone. His face became a crucible of expressions. Melisa thought she had won and preferred to leave on a triumphant note.
"Well — what is it?"
"It completely throws me when applied to you, Mum. It's a terrible acronym for saying that a mature woman is beautiful and attractive — leaving entirely aside whether you find that person interesting or funny."
Marta smiled with pride.
"I don't know whether what Melisa says is true—" she lied shamelessly, though Julián didn't know it "—but it flatters me to think someone like that might still find me interesting."
"You're smart, sharp, intelligent, and other men find you beautiful." Julián smiled without hesitation. "Melisa will come around to the idea that that's not a bad thing."
"Would you say the same?" She wanted to test the ground.
"I've already given my opinion, Mum."
"I mean your perception, Julián — do you also think Mario sees it that way?" Marta tried to sound merely curious, though that was far from the truth — she was trying to gauge how much those around her were picking up on.
"I think he genuinely cares about you — in a healthier way than Manuel does. Is that what you were asking?"
She narrowed her eyes. What concerned his father had already been said by Hugo.
"Manuel has tried to get closer more than once and I haven't let him."
"Have you not?"
"Of course not!"
Julián's expression darkened slightly, his gaze moving to Mario as though he'd been doused in cold water.
"You don't want anything with Manuel — but you're flattered that Mario finds you attractive. I think you've said more than you meant to, Mum."
Marta was taken aback by her son's reasoning, and wiped the smile from her face to replace it with an expectant look. He, for his part, raised his arms to embrace her — rather than waiting for her to do it.
"Now I know my instinct about the company was right—" he gave a very gentle smile "—but I don't want you getting your hopes up, wanting to live with the father just to be near the son."
Marta recoiled with distaste.
"Don't talk nonsense, Julián."
"You're right — that kind of behaviour doesn't fit you at all. It's more Melisa's style."
"I think it's about time we headed home to rest — don't you think, son?" she smiled with pointed innocence.
"I'd say tomorrow's an early start."
Marta reached into her handbag and Julián happened to glance in. He saw a keyring with a cork and raised an eyebrow.
"A cider cork is very... rustic for your taste, Mum."
She startled and snapped the bag shut with embarrassment.
"It was a gift!" She excused herself.
"I can imagine from whom."
Marta looked at Julián sideways, as if trying to decipher her son.
"Don't read into it."
"I'm not, Mum — I'm just being analytical."
Julián went around the different groups to let the others know they were tired and heading off.
Marta went over to Manuel, Felisa and Hugo.
"I'm going to head home, partner — I'm exhausted."
"Leaving so soon?" he asked, glancing at Felisa.
"Don't worry." Marta shook her head. "Hugo can take Felisa whenever she's ready. I'm going home to rest so we can look at that last property tomorrow — remember?"
Manuel slapped his forehead.
"Of course, yes!" He shrugged. "I don't think we'll be far behind you anyway."
"See you tomorrow." Marta raised her head and her voice to address the room. "It's been a real pleasure meeting all the shareholders — until tomorrow!"
"Blimey!" came a voice from somewhere in the group. "So soon?"
Julián and Marta both turned towards the voice. She smiled with a warmth that was difficult to hide.
"I've barely had anything to drink after all that uncorking — but there are plenty more celebrations ahead, and plenty more corks to send flying if need be."
Julián watched his mother with half-closed eyes, smiling out of politeness. Mario noticed and looked at Marta with a mix of gratitude and tender regret — but with a dazzling smile.
He stayed on at the gathering and she went home to rest, with the feeling that the joint company was less oppressive than she had feared — and that the reservations she thought she had were nothing more than the judgement of other people's eyes. And Melisa had given herself away as exactly what Mario had already shown: a mind that couldn't see beyond its own wounded pride.