Page 20 of Afraid to Hope

Second thoughts made her reconsider. “I can come back, Clara. It’s late.”

“Nonsense. You’re here, aren’t you? And I’m up. Come in. We’ll go sit on the patio with our tea and chat. Oliver just retired. He has a long day tomorrow.”

Once they got comfortable on one of the outdoor sofas, a lump formed in Natasha’s throat. “How do you always know?”

A soft smile filled Clara’s face and eyes. “Child, I’ve known you since you were born. I mentioned it the other night when I thought there was more on your mind than travel and work, like that fine-looking man we saw earlier this evening, the man staying with you?”

“So you noticed him.”

“Oliver did. In the garden taking photos. Then, of course, I had to take a peek. I may be older, but I’m not dead. My, he’s exceptionally handsome. What’s his name, this man of yours?”

Natasha’s heart raced at the thought of Bane being hers, of being with him. What would that be like? “Bane.”

“What do women your age call men who look like Bane?”

“Gorgeous? Hunky? Easy on the eyes?”

Clara burst out laughing. “Those words sum him up rather well. Tell me about him. I assume there’s more to him than his good looks.”

“Well, he’s American, works as a professional freelance photographer, which explains him being outside with a camera, and”—Natasha inhaled and plastered a huge smile on her face—“he’s my husband.”

“Your husband? Natasha! You got married?” Clara squeezed Natasha’s hands, examining the band Natasha wore. “In all the excitement of seeing you yesterday and tonight, I didn’t even notice. When? I should go get Oliver,” she said, starting to stand.

So many questions. “Oh, don’t do that. I’ll talk to Oliver later.”

“Child!” Clara moved forward and wrapped her arms around Natasha and squeezed tightly. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

Clara’s eyes sparkled as she regarded Natasha. “Tell me more.”

“It was a whirlwind. We just knew. Both of us were on vacation in Fiji. We met and—” Natasha threw her hands in the air. “Boom! I can’t even explain it.”

“When?”

“Last month.” Natasha said confidently, thankful she never discussed her work with Clara and Oliver.

“Very newly married! Are you happy?”

Natasha paused a moment before answering. “I am,” she said, beaming. “I’m still getting to know him.”

“Well of course you are, dear. You’ll be getting to know Bane for the rest of your married life. People change. I still learn new things about Oliver.”

“Our marriage got me thinking about Mama and Papa, which is part of the reason I came over.”Natasha unfolded to standing and wrung her hands, then took a few steps before returning to sit. Uncomfortable, she changed the subject. “What do you know of my parents? Mama and Papa both shared that they met, fell head over heels in love, and married within two weeks. Mémé and Pépé came around quickly and fell in love with Papa too. Papa’s parents, well, they never accepted Mama. Or us…”

Clara sighed and ran her fingers over Natasha’s exposed tattoo. “That’s all true. Oliver and I loved Peter too. Marie and Peter were very much in love, very devoted to one another. They were of different temperaments, from very different backgrounds. However, your parents compromised and theirs was a beautiful union, all the much richer after you and your brothers were born.”

“I know Mama’s background, but not Papa’s. I asked so many times, but Papa never wished to speak about it, and because he forbade it, Mama wouldn’t speak of it either.”

“That’s because it was painful.” Clara sipped her tea.

Natasha cocked her head, searching Clara’s blue eyes with her gray ones. “Do you know?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Tell me. Please, Clara,” she whispered. “I have a right to know.”

“You do.” She set her cup down on the side table and took both of Natasha’s hands in hers. “Peter, your father, was a child of apartheid, a system of racial segregation of whites and non-whites. He and his family were classified as black and stripped of their South African citizenship, and much more. They were banished to one of the Bantu homelands outside the White areas. They lost so much. You must have surmised this, Natasha,” Clara said, her eyes pregnant with sadness.

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