Page 43 of Girl in the Water
He’d insisted on the dorms. He wanted her to have all the normal experiences any twenty-something in college would have. He wanted her to date, join clubs, go to parties, eat cold pizza with friends at three in the morning.
She dropped her paperwork in her room, then padded out into the kitchen. She’d learned American dishes, soups and stews, and spaghetti, knew how to flip a burger. But most of the time, she made something lighter, something with coconuts or plantains, something with fresh fish. She’d found a grocery store that sold cassava and sugarcane. The lighter food was better for Ian’s stomach. God knew, he ate enough greasy takeout when she wasn’t here.
A knock on the door, and Iris, Ian’s mother, popped in, a jeans-and-T-shirt girl like Daniela. Her only nod to city life was exchanging her rubber boots for sneakers. She’d moved to DC a year ago. Connecticut winters had become too much for her. And she was getting too old for farming, so she retired.
“Daniela! I’m so glad you’re here.” Iris always gave a long, warm hug. Her hair was short and magenta this week—she liked experimenting now that she didn’t have to worry about scaring the cows. She had a face like sunshine. Her smile never dimmed. Ian’s occasional dark moods were completely absent from her.
Sometimes Daniela wondered if they were really related.
She hugged the woman back. Ian and Iris were her family. “Just in time for lunch.”
Iris sniffed the air. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into coming to live with me? That smells like heaven. But I can’t stay.” She gave a tragic sigh. “I only stopped by because I left my knitting here the other day, and I have a knitting club meeting tonight.”
She looked around. “I see my reprobate son isn’t home yet. I texted him that I was coming over. He texted back that the shop called that his car was inspected. He went to pick it up. I thought he’d be here by now.”
She grabbed her purple knitting bag from beside the couch. “I’m keeping my eye on the weather for your graduation party. I can’t wait. It’ll be the first big party at my place. I’m praying hard that we won’t have any rain so I can do barbecue on the balcony.” Her eyes filled with moisture, but she never lost the smile. “I’m so proud of you, I could burst.”
That was Iris. She radiated love like the sun radiated heat.
“Any news in the romance department?” she asked.
Daniela thought of Bobby and shook her head.
“I’m telling you what I told my son,” Iris said. “I refuse to die without grandchildren. I’m prepared to live to a hundred.”
She hugged and kissed Daniela again before she left, with a reminder that the following week they had a double shift at the activity center for homeless children. They did that together at least once a week, their girl time.
After Iris left, Daniela went back to cooking. Lunch was almost ready when Ian walked in.
“Hey.” He stopped inside the door, filling the doorframe. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt that had been washed a hundred times and softly draped over his muscles. “I thought you’d be at the school today.”
Ian wasn’t college-boy handsome, but he did have a certain harsh, hard-edged masculine beauty that came partially from his well-built physique and partially from his eyes that were dark but not black, more the color of strong coffee, the color of the Rio Negro and the Içana.
As she looked at Ian in the doorway, a peacefulness fell over Daniela, a floating kind of feeling as if she was in the river, or that bliss of swinging in a hammock when rain pitter-pattered outside and all was well with the world.
She had the sudden urge to walk into his arms, lay her head on his chest. She blinked the odd thought away.
“I didn’t have as much to do as I thought I would,” she said.
He sniffed the air as he moved forward, scoping out the stove. “That smells good. Let me take a shower first.”
And as he passed by her, she caught a faint trace of perfume.
Nicole.
Daniela hadn’t met her, but she knew of her. Nicole was Ian’s ex-neighbor from his previous apartment. They weren’t going out, but they hooked up from time to time.
An achy soreness spread through Daniela’s limbs; her stomach cramped. She’d been bitten by a poisonous bug once when she’d been a child. She’d known it at once, feeling just like this, like she was about to be deathly sick.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Ian called from his bedroom. “Flying to Jordan. Just got a case assigned. Missing American tourist.”
After they’d come to the US from Brazil, General Roberts, someone Ian used to know in the army, offered him a job at a new DOD department the retired general had put together. Civilian Personnel Recovery Unit. They found and rescued US civilians who disappeared abroad.
He popped his head back out the door. “I’m going to miss your graduation. I’m really sorry.”
He looked sorry. Serious. Concerned for her feelings.
She turned back to the stove and said, “No big deal,” over her shoulder.
