She turned her attention back to Maria and pasted on a smile. “What are alfajores?” she asked dumbly, not sure what else to say without giving herself away. And the last thing she wanted was Maria reading more into the situation than there was. If that were possible. What would the woman say if she knew Sophia had spent the night in his room? She was nice enough now, but it had the potential to be incredibly awkward.
Maria handed her a wooden spoon, adjusting to the change of topic smoothly. “Cookies. We will bake them and when everything is cool, sandwich them together with the dulce de leche.”
The earlier excitement about making Tomas’s favourite treat was slightly bittersweet now. She’d wanted it to be something from her, but now she knew the sweets would come with a reference to Rosa built in. Had Rosa made him these same cookies in the past? She must have, if what Maria had said about them being Tomas’s favourite was correct. There were so many questions Sophia longed to ask and she knew she had no right to the answers. Maria spoke and Sophia pulled herself out of her thoughts and started creaming butter and sugar together, the sweet smell now repulsive to her.
“I worry about him,” Maria said, going to a cupboard for a baking pan.
“Who?”
“Tomas, of course. We love having him here. We couldn’t run the estancia without him. But he has closed himself away from the world. He needs to find a good Argentine girl to make him a home. Sometimes I wonder if we made a mistake, going into partnership. It ties him here too much.”
Sophia struggled to keep beating the batter. She would say no more, at least not to Maria. Partnerships and dead fiancées. Tomas had told her that only he’d gone to university and that he had chosen the estancia instead. But it looked as though there was much more to him than met the eye. To think he’d let her believe he merely worked here. Heat crept into her cheeks as she realized she’d been played. She could probably find out all she needed from Maria. But she wanted to hear it from him.
“I am very sorry about your daughter, Maria.”
Maria sniffed, but then lifted her head and smiled. “Thank you, Sophia. She was tak
en from us so suddenly, so young. But God works in mysterious ways. We gained another son anyway. I couldn’t love Tomas more if he were my own.” She patted Sophia’s hand and then reached for an egg. “I see a difference in him this week. It is good to see him happy.”
Sophia’s head came up sharply and Maria laughed. “Don’t be so surprised. He is more alive. Carlos noticed it, too. When you are in a room together, the air changes.”
“But I’m…I mean…” What did Maria think had happened between them? She’d expected disapproval, not encouragement. “I’m going back to Canada in a few days.”
“Of course you are,” Maria replied, adding flour to the bowl and taking the spoon from Sophia’s motionless hand. “But I am glad you came. He has punished himself long enough.”
Sophia could only hold out for so long, and this latest revelation pushed her over the edge. “Punish himself? Whatever for?”
But Maria suddenly became quiet, refusing to elaborate. “If you want to know more, you will have to ask Tomas.”
“But she was your daughter.”
The alfajores dough was a smooth ball now and Maria began to roll it out. “No, I think you should ask Tomas. He should be the one to tell you. It will be good for him.”
“And if he won’t?”
Maria looked at Sophia, her gaze sharp. “I think he will.”
Sophia felt a blush climb her cheeks as Maria turned back to the baking. Maria had mentioned how obvious the attraction between the two of them was, but Sophia thought she was seeing what she wanted to see.
“Maria, I can see you want Tomas to be happy. But that can’t be with me. I’m only on vacation, and then I’m going back to Canada and my life there.”
Maria gestured for the cookie cutter and Sophia handed it to her. “Oh, Sophia. You young people. You plan everything out and how it is supposed to work. Everything on a schedule. You’re on vacation. Don’t worry about it, let it go. There will be time enough for life to ask its price later.”
Maria suddenly seemed weary and Sophia wondered if her words had more to do with Rosa and Tomas, maybe even Miguel. It seemed to Sophia that perhaps life had already exacted its price from Maria, and she still met the day smiling.
She stepped up to the counter and took the spoon from Maria. “Okay then.” She smiled brightly, determined to dispel the cloud that had suddenly fallen over the kitchen. Perhaps she’d felt sorry for herself before, but her troubles now seemed minor, distant. Right now the only thing that was supposed to matter was butter and sugar and flour. She looked at Maria and forced a smile. “What’s next?”
They moved on to the other preparations, but a cloud hung over Sophia. Did she really want to unlock the rest of the mystery that was Tomas? And how on earth could she find the time and place to ask?
Sophia sighed, feeling lazy and contented in her chair by the fire. She couldn’t remember ever being this full. The fire blazed as the remnants of the asado lay about. There had been beef, so many different cuts, so mouthwateringly delicious, and potato salad, fresh vegetables and Maria’s crusty fresh bread. There had been bottles of the ruby-red Malbec that Tomas had picked up in town during their trip. And just when Sophia was positive she couldn’t eat another bite, Maria brought out the platter of alfajores.
“I should have known,” Tomas said approvingly, and with a boyish smile he reached out and took two. He grinned up at Maria. “Madre Maria never fails when it comes to alfajores.”
Sophia took one, unable to resist, but couldn’t bring herself to try it yet. She leaned forward in her chair, toying with the sweet as she waited for Tomas to sample his, hoping they would meet his approval.
“You’re an easy mark, Tomas, if you can be won with cookies,” Maria teased.
Tomas forced the smile to his lips as he looked up at the woman who had mothered him during his rebellious years and beyond. “The cookies did not bring me here,” he explained as he bit into one. He felt Sophia’s eyes on him and he winked up at Maria, trying to keep things light, though his heart was suddenly heavy. “But they go a long way toward keeping me here.”