Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

I’ve been toying with the idea of getting our own place, and now my decision is made. The atmosphere in this house is way too tense.

Gabriel

It takes another three weeks of cajoling before Carly agrees to come over. She doesn’t agree to a weekend visit, but I settle for the Saturday lunch she proposes. To make it as relaxed as possible, I plan a barbeque by the pool. It’s late autumn, and the water is too cold to swim, but the day is sunny and pleasantly warm. An outdoor lunch will do us all good.

Carly doesn’t say a word in the car on the drive to our house.

In the driveway, I switch off the engine and turn to her. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about before we go inside?”

She stares straight ahead with her arms crossed over her chest. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that Valentina and I are married and we’re going to have a baby.”

“You said it all, didn’t you?”

“Don’t be a wisecrack. Do you want to talk about how it makes you feel?”

She shoots me a dirty look. “Embarrassed?”

“I’m sorry if my choice embarrasses you, but she’s a good, strong woman, and I’m proud of her.”

“Like you’re proud of Mom?”

“This has nothing to do with me and your mother. Your mother chose a different path, and I accepted it. So should you.”

Turning her face away from me, she picks at the hem of her blouse. “You treat her differently.”

“How?”

“You love her more.”

“Please don’t compare her and your mother. It’s not fair to either.”

“Did you love Mom?”

“Very much.”

“Why did it change?”

“People change. Sometimes, we grow apart or want different things.”

“Did Mom want different things, or was it you?”

“Pointing fingers and laying blame won’t help. It is what it is. We need to accept it and move on.”

She snorts. “You certainly have.”

“Would you rather see me alone for the rest of my life?”

“Not alone. Just with someone different. She’s a gold-digger.”

“Listen to me, Carly. Valentina didn’t ask to be put in this situation. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. This is hard for her, too. Will you at least try to make an effort?”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“Good. I appreciate that. Before we go inside, there’s more you should know.”

She turns her head to me quickly. “More? How much worse can this get?”

“Carly,” I say sternly. I’m trying to be patient, but her attitude doesn’t help.

“Okay, okay.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“Valentina’s brother is staying with us.”

She gasps. “Are you moving her whole family in?”

“Just her brother.”

“Why must he live here?”

“He has brain damage and needs a lot of care.”

“Oh, dear God.” She makes a face. “A disabled person in our house?”

“I’m proud of the way Valentina takes care of him.”

“Give her a gold star on her forehead or something. Doesn’t she have other family who can take him in?”

“No and that’s not the point. I offered.”

“How crazy is he?”

“He’s not crazy. He lost some of his cognitive functions. Mostly, he repeats parts of words.”

“This is going to be the Mad Hatter’s crazy tea party.”

“I won’t tolerate this kind of talk, understood?”

She blows out a puff of air. “Can we go inside, now? It’s hot in the car.”

“Remember what I said. This is not Valentina’s fault.”

She gets out and slams the door. I take a few deep breaths. Admittedly, I haven’t expected her to be ecstatic. I don’t blame for her being upset, but I can’t stand by and let her be mean to Valentina for something that’s my fault.

I grab Carly’s bag from the back and follow her inside.

“We’re outside,” Magda calls when the slamming of the door announces our arrival.

Instead of heading to the deck, Carly snatches her bag from me and veers toward the stairs. “I’ll meet you at the pool. I’m going to change.”

Some of the tenseness leaves my body when I step outside and see Valentina. She’s dressed in a tight dress with her hair pulled back. God, she’s beautiful. The size of her belly doesn’t faze her, but Valentina has never been conscious of her physical beauty. The fact that she doesn’t know how desirable she is only makes her more desirable to me. A tendril that escaped the elastic feathers over her temple and a flush marks her cheeks––telltale signs that she’s been busy. She’s bustling around the veranda table, which is laid with green crockery and bright yellow napkins. A bunch of sunflowers is the center decoration. Magda is lying on a deckchair, reading a book, and it looks like Charlie is doing origami the way he meticulously folds the paper napkins.

I cross the deck and pull Valentina to me with a hand on her hip. “Hey, beautiful.”

She smiles at me. “I made potato and beetroot salad with garlic bread. There’s mud pie for dessert. Do you think it’ll do?”