A layer of nerves settled inside me. This could work. Either way I was going to give it my best shot.
‘Thank you.’ I set her case down, and went towards her.
Another wary little look crossed her face.
‘There’s no need to fear what’s coming, Graciela. I promise you it’s all good.’
Defiance replaced wariness, her eyes snapping with irritation that did a shoddy job of covering the alarm beneath. ‘I’m not afraid. I just don’t like surprises.’ Her head tilted, fire sparking in her eyes. ‘Give me something at least, Jensen, or all we’ll be doing is making meaningless conversation while I wonder what you have in store for me.’
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. She challenged and terrified me. Brought me alive in ways that I could never have imagined a short while ago. Ways I didn’t want to have to do without. ‘How about instead of telling you, I show you?’ I offered.
Her gaze started past me, down the wide hallway that led to my bedroom. It was the only hallway in the apartment. So I’d correctly guessed her thoughts. I laughed.
‘Hopefully the sex will come later. I need your clothes on for this one. Or we’ll risk shocking a few people.’
‘People,’ she echoed, tensing.
I reached for her hand. ‘I know we only just arrived but we need to leave again. We’re expected.’
She opened her mouth, most likely to demand I tell her. But a different light shone in her eyes. One that thrilled me far too much. It was a light of trust. It said she was willing to take this small step.
She nodded, and my hand tightened around hers. We took the lift to the underground garage. She looked around, curious as I led her to the late-model sports car. She remained silent for the twenty-minute journey to our destination, but every now and then she’d glance at me, bite her lip, the first sign of nerves I’d ever seen on Graciela. It was endearing. But also a little sad that she’d be so afraid of the unknown. Sad that she didn’t know her strength or underestimated her worth.
I was equally nervous when I pulled up in front of the large, familiar suburban house. The past few days had been enlightening, and Graciela was about to find out how instrumental she’d been.
I took her hand and kissed the back of it.
‘I’m beginning to associate you kissing my hand with something that’ll freak me out.’
I smiled. ‘You liked something about my invitation or you wouldn’t be here.’
She shrugged. ‘It beats spending the night listening to my cousin Jasper drone on about our family feud with the Binghams, that’s for sure.’
‘The fondness in your voice tells me he’s not all bad.’
She shrugged. ‘I tolerate him, probably because I hardly see him.’
It was more than that and we both knew it, but I let it slide. We stepped out and I walked her to the red-painted front door decorated with garlands and Christmas lights. As we approached, sounds of festive music filtered through the air.
‘You brought me to a party?’ There was no disappointment, but neither was there anticipation. She was guarding her feelings and I couldn’t blame her.
The door opened before I could knock, a woman of slim, tall build throwing her arms wide.
‘Jensen! You made it.’ Her wide smile didn’t cover the wariness I glimpsed in her eyes but the tight band that usually gripped my chest when I was in my mother’s company had loosened. Enough that I could return her smile.
Beside me, Graciela tensed. I tightened my fingers around hers, infusing reassurance. ‘Mor, meet Graciela Mortimer. Graciela, my mother, Agnetha.’
Graciela held out her hand, but her face remained politely neutral as she greeted my mother. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’
My mother’s smile widened. ‘You too. I was thrilled when Jensen said he was coming home and bringing a guest with him. Usually I have to beg and plead.’ She threw the door wide open. ‘Come in, meet the rest of the family!’
As we entered, I slanted a glance at Graciela, gauging her reaction.
Her face gave nothing away, not even when the rest of my family descended en masse. Not when Dag, my gregarious stepfather, enfolded her in an embrace. She remained coolly polite, upper-class and boarding-school-honed manners fully in place.
Dread slithered down my spine; the notion that my plan had backfired, that I’d probably killed any chance I had with her, became a reality when she cornered me in a quiet alcove while pre-dinner drinks were being served.
‘I was right, wasn’t I? I’m just some guinea-pig experiment to you!’ she hissed with quiet fury.
Frustration boiled inside me. ‘Only you would see it like this.’
Her face tightened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Look around you, Graciela. We’re not perfect. Hell, some of us have been through a lot of shit. But we don’t wallow in it.’
I knew the words coming out of my mouth were wrong the moment I said them. ‘Dammit, I didn’t mean it like that.’
Pain dulled the fire in her eyes. ‘No, I think you meant it exactly like that. You either meant to show me what a fuck-up I am or to rub my face in your idea of happy families,’ she said.
‘Or maybe there’s a third option? How about gratitude? Wanting you to feel affection? Warmth? Conversations that didn’t start and end with who could hurt whom worse or whatever version of hell you were too scared to face this Christmas?’
Her eyes grew bright with unshed tears. Furiously, she blinked them away. ‘I don’t need you to deliver whatever message you feel you need to deliver. I’ve survived holidays with my family for the better part of two decades.’
‘And you still choose to accept things the way they are? What are you, Graciela? Deluded or coward?’
The blood drained from her face, her eyes turning into twin pools of torment.
I dragged
