‘He’ll never get rid of it. I’ve offered to remove it,’ came a familiar voice behind her.
Gabriel stopped beside her chair and looked up at the roof.
‘Remember when you carried me up there to watch the shooting stars?’ she said, surprised at the way her pulse had quickened instantly the second she’d heard his voice.
‘We’re lucky nothing happened.’ He grinned, and the way he looked at her made her stomach turn with a series of sparks that travelled up her arms. He meant it was lucky they hadn’t fallen off the roof or something, but now she remembered how she had kind of wanted something to happen with him, back when they’d been teenagers, way before he’d met Ines.
‘I’ll help you up the steps,’ he said as she wheeled her chair ahead of him, where he couldn’t see her cheeks blush. The door was already swinging open, and Rosa was there, arms outstretched. Her parents would be here any minute. She had to let Gabriel help her inside, there was no other way.
First he lifted her gently from her chair, with the utmost care and attention. He carried her up the steps and held her in the doorway while his father—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a deep voice and friendly eyes like Gabriel’s—brought her wheelchair past them, and she couldn’t help filling her lungs with the scent of him. It was the musky cinnamon smell she had always associated with Gabriel.
It reminded her of a time when they’d been sixteen, and a group of friends had gone to Cerro Tres Picos for a weekend to camp in the forest. Her parents would never have let her go with them unless Gabriel had convinced them he’d take care of her. And he had. He had carried her then, too, from the car to the campsite, where they’d sat out all night under the stars, and then from her chair to the tent, and she’d trusted him implicitly. He was the only guy she’d ever trusted to treat her so carefully, she thought with a pang.
Soon she was nestled in a pile of cushions, being handed a glass of wine. Inside the house was cosy despite its cool, tiled floors. The familiar kitchen just off the open lounge was still the same with yellow walls, peach-coloured floors and little tiles painted with pictures of tropical birds. The scent of empanadas filled the air.
She drew a deep breath and forced her face into a neutral expression as Gabriel sat close beside her. His eyes burned into her cheek every time she spoke or answered one of his father’s questions. Rosa, thankfully feeling a lot better now, bustled away in the kitchen, humming to herself, clinking utensils, plates and glasses and occasionally calling out to his father for something she couldn’t reach in the pantry. Ana had always loved this happy home. She was just starting to feel comfortable, regaling them with a story about a particularly funny encounter with a neighbour in Bariloche, when the doorbell rang.
In a flurry of greetings, Ana’s parents were ushered into the room. Her father looked as smart as usual in his ironed cream chinos, a crisp shirt and a brown leather belt he only wore for special occasions. Her mother had on her most elegant jeans, an embroidered blouse Ana had brought her back from Peru after a conference in Cusco a few years ago, and heeled sandals. They were very fashionable, and fashionably late, as usual. Ana let her mother kiss her cheeks, enduring it when she then wiped a lipstick smear from one and frowned at her choice of head scarf. She’d gone for a bright-blue one this evening, because Gabriel had commented on how much he’d liked it during the week, she realised now.
‘It’s so lovely to see you, Gabriel, and even nicer to see both of you together again. I’ve been hearing you’re the angel of the clinic, Gabe.’ Her mother cooed at him. Gabriel shot Ana a sideways smirk behind his hand as he too endured a kiss to his cheek, whilst Ana continued wiping the lipstick from hers. ‘Is it gone?’ she whispered.
‘It’s all gone,’ he assured her with a wink.
‘Thanks.’ Ana felt her cheeks flame. There was nothing worse than feeling reduced to a useless child again by her mother, especially in front of him.
‘Let’s eat!’ Rosa enthused.
Right away, her father sprang into action, wanting to assist Ana with getting back into her wheelchair, as he’d always done. He was nimble for a man in his mid-sixties, but Gabriel was faster. ‘I’ll help her,’ he insisted, holding out a hand to her. ‘If Ana’s OK with that.’
‘Of course.’ She smiled gratefully as he lifted her again with ease and helped her back into her chair. Despite the fact he’d left most of her mother’s lipstick on his own cheek, she couldn’t deny he was an angel at the clinic—a devilishly handsome one. Again she breathed his homely scent and let her arms loop around his shoulders, wishing the act could take longer than thirty seconds. This was the closest she had let herself get to him all week and she’d missed it. Of course, this was all for their parents’ benefit, though, so they wouldn’t pick up that anything was wrong.
Still, it was hard to miss the look Rosa and her mother gave them as Gabriel helped her gently back into her chair. They sat at the table before the feast that Rosa had prepared: empanadas filled with sautéed beef and vegetables; barbecued short ribs; a hearty, yellow-orange locro stew made with white hominy corn; and roasted sweet potatoes topped with criolla sauce, all served on colourful earthenware plates that Rosa had collected over the years from markets all over Argentina.
It became very obvious, suddenly, that their parents had all been speculating about them behind their backs. And the point of the dinner was probably not just to eat all this wonderful food together... Talk about awkward! As much as they might want her to give them something to talk about, she and Gabriel would never be more than friends, and she was starting to think they both knew it. Ana suddenly couldn’t wait to get out of there.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GABRIEL TOOK THE last mouthful of his barbecued short ribs smothered in chimichurri sauce and caught Ana’s mother looking between them with interest. She hadn’t stopped with these questioning looks for the last hour and a half. While he and Ana were certainly giving off no hint of what had happened between them, he could tell they were all on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear that they were more than friends and colleagues.
‘So, Gabriel, any new love in your life lately?’ The question somehow still caught him off-guard. Ana’s mother was looking at him intently. ‘I haven’t seen Javi in a while; is he still living at Ines’s place?’
OK, so she’d decided just to come out with all the personal questions at once. He put his fork down and sat back in his chair but, before he could speak, Ana cut in. ‘Mama, you don’t have to put Gabriel on the spot, you know. There is such a thing as keeping your business private.’
Her mother pretended to pout. ‘I was only asking, cariño. We’re all family here, are we not?’
Ana’s father seemed to be trying his best not to laugh at the situation. Gabriel couldn’t tell if it was out of nerves or amusement, but his own parents had their mouths hidden by their wine glasses.
‘Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs Mendez. Yes, Javi is with Ines a lot. And, well, I don’t have much time for romance at the moment.’
Even as he said it, he could feel the air thicken as Ana tensed beside him. He cleared his throat, reached for the wine, filling their glasses, and switched the conversation to the weather, not wanting to cause any more trouble for Ana than he already had. However, before he could even put the cork back into the bottle, Ana’s father cut in with a question of his own.
‘Ana, are you all right? Is there anything we can do to help? You seem tense. Your mother and I were wondering if you need us to come help clean, or cook, or anything while you’re at the clinic. We’d be happy to be more involved, now you’re back and so busy.’
His offer was gentle and more than kind, as far as Gabriel was concerned, but Ana sat up even straighter in her chair and glared at them both, her eyes flashing with anger and frustration. ‘No,’ she answered gruffly. ‘I don’t need your help, thank you. I don’t need anything. How many more times do I—?’
‘What she means,’ Gabriel cut in quickly, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm before she all but exploded, ‘Is that she’s perfectly capable of managing all that. Well, she can’t cook, obviously. She over-cooks every vegetable to the point of mush, always has, but she has the right restaurants on speed dial, right, Ana?’
Ana chewed her lip, tapping her nails on the table while their parents all shuffled awkwardly. She had inherited her mother’s eyebrows, which were thick and black, and they arched to his favourite blue head scarf the second he nudged her under the table.
‘I do—all of the right restaurants—they know me,’ she confirmed quickly, throwing him a sideways look that wasn’t quite a smile, but wasn’t a simmering volcano of a glare either. ‘Sorry, Mama, Papa; I’m just...tired.’
‘That’s OK, mija,’ Gabriel’s mother soothed, starting to gather up empty plates. ‘It’s important work you do, both of you.’
Gabriel smiled reassuringly at Ana’s parents, trying to project a calm confidence, and changed the subject to Javi’s dog, Savio, and the upcoming ‘pawrents’ day’ in a few days’ time at Parca 3 de Febrero, near Javi’s school. He told them about the smart terrier mix Pedro had rescued, who basically stuck to Javi’s side wherever he was, and the tricks he and Javi had been teaching him. Ana stayed quiet and withdrawn.
He knew she was counting down the minutes until she could leave. Her parents had always wound her up, simply by loving her and caring about her. But he had to put himself in her shoes. She was doing more than fine on her own. She really didn’t need them worrying so much about her any more. It must have felt suffocating, and only made her want to separate herself more out of defiance. Did she even need him? he thought, realising he was nervously turning his silver bracelet around on his wrist, and that she was watching. The thought that she might not need him any more than she needed her parents interfering in her life or standing up for her didn’t sit right. OK, so the clinic was different—she needed him there—but was that enough?
Gabriel’s jaw clenched and a familiar, prickling heat rose up his neck, just imagining the day she might find someone else to care for her. Someone less complicated than him, with more to offer her than he ever could. He already knew he’d have issues with that person. Deep down in his bones, there would always be a primal impulse to take care of Ana.
On the way home they took a detour. Gabriel walked slowly besides Ana’s wheelchair along the winding paths of the cemetery, smiling a little at how tired she looked as she rested her head back against the chair and came to a stop at her grandfather’s grave.
‘Thanks for walking me home,’ she said on a sigh.
‘I wanted to.’ He’d been here lots of times to lay flowers on her behalf while she’d been away—not that she knew—but he hadn’t been here with her in years. It was oddly peaceful in the moonlight—not spooky or eerie in the slightest—and somehow it calmed his racing thoughts from earlier.
A few streetlights dotted the grounds and illuminated their path as they said their respects and moved on. Ana didn’t say much but, when Gabriel finally stopped at one of the larger monuments to study the inscription on a couple’s gravestone, she spoke softly.
‘Imagine loving someone so much that you’re actually buried next to them when you die.’
