Page 29 of An Island Promise

‘Do you need any help?’

‘You can chop the potatoes.’ Maria gestured to the work surface as she stirred the onions and green pepper she was sautéing in a heavy casserole dish. She swept in chopped tomatoes. ‘How are you managing without Cara?’

Caleb took one of the peeled potatoes, started chopping it into chunks and shrugged. ‘We message each other every day.’

‘It is different though without your friend here. You lean on her as much as she leans on you.’ Maria tapped her fingers to her heart. ‘It’s not just about work.’

‘No, it’s not, but I’m doing okay, Maria.’

‘Good, I’m glad.’ Her tight grey curls bounced as she nodded. ‘Once you finish the potatoes you can chop the almonds.’

She gave the vegetables in the pan a stir then started chopping the parsley on another board. Juan, with their eldest son Lluís, was the chef at their family-run restaurant in San Carlos, but at home the kitchen had always been Maria’s domain. Caleb would argue that the same meal made in Maria’s kitchen always beat the restaurant equivalent. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud to Juan – he’d risk being lynched. Maria cooked with love for her family, long lazy lunches that lasted well into the evening.

Maria swept the parsley into a bowl and glanced sideways at him. ‘You are still coming over next weekend as well?’

‘Of course.’ Caleb finished with the potatoes and started on the toasted almonds. Maria would get them done twice as fast but she liked having the company of someone who didn’t try and take over. ‘But about that, you know how I sometimes bring Cara…’ He cleared his throat. ‘How would you feel about me bringing a new friend?’

Maria’s eyes narrowed, her olive skin crinkling. ‘What are you really asking me, Caleb?’

‘I’m asking exactly that: if you’re happy to have an extra person to feed?’

Maria’s neat eyebrows raised as she added the potatoes to the pan with a splash of water. ‘You know the answer to that: of course I am!’ On another board there were two different types of rock fish already skinned and boned which she set about cutting up into pieces. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand andlooked at him intently, her dark eyes hawklike. ‘You understand we will all be happy for you to find someone special.’

‘It’s not like that,’ Caleb stressed as he added the chopped almonds to a bowl of saffron, garlic and the parsley Maria had prepared. ‘She’s just a friend – the person who’s taken over from Cara – but a stranger to you.’

‘Like Cara was a stranger at first – although Cara will never be special in the way I’m suggesting, huh?’ Maria said with a gleam in her eye. ‘Or is it the same with this new woman who has taken over from her? What’s her name?’

‘Belle.’

‘A beautiful name.’

‘It is.’

‘Also a Spanish name like Isabella. Does she like women?’

Caleb forced himself to not roll his eyes and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t get that impression.’

‘Mmm.’ Maria stirred the potatoes frying in the pan. ‘Do you get the impression she likes you?’

‘Maria!’ he scolded, his reaction coming out harsher than he’d meant it to.

‘I’m sorry. I worry about you. We all do.’ She wiped her hands on a cloth. ‘Paloma would,’ she said softly.

Caleb breathed deeply as a tightness across his chest threatened to consume him. ‘I should never have asked about inviting her over. The simple truth is, she’s away from home and here on her own after having a difficult time from the little she’s said. She reminds me of Cara in that respect, so yes, I’m befriending her, that’s all. But it’ll just be me next Saturday.’

‘No, it won’t; it will be the two of you.’ Maria gave him a firm nod. ‘She is very welcome. You bring her.’

There was no arguing with Maria. Even if she hadn’t been his former mother-in-law, he would have done as she wished. He’d always respected her and had been happy to marry intothe family, but his love for her had grown after losing Paloma. The strength she’d had in the face of tragic loss had floored him; she was the beating heart of the family and the one who held everyone together supporting them through their own individual trials and staying strong in the face of their greatest sadness. And she’d always been there for him, a shoulder to cry on even when she was struggling with her own grief.

Later that evening, when Caleb was sitting by himself on the wall at the end of the terraced garden, Maria joined him. The sound of Diego and Àngel, one of his older brothers, arguing good naturedly drifted into the night. Life hummed around them: the scritch scritch of nighttime insects and other voices from the surrounding houses. A dog barked, which set another one off. Up at the house, Àngel’s wife Gabriela was shouting at the children to get their shoes on, telling them it was late and they had church in the morning. Everyday family life was happening around him yet he was always on the periphery.

‘You are very thoughtful tonight.’ Maria stretched out her legs and grimaced. ‘And I’ve been on my feet too long today.’

‘The food was delicious as always, Maria. The company too. Thank you.’

‘And thank you for your help.’ Maria placed her hand on his where he was leaning on the wall and patted it. ‘You are thinking about Paloma,sí?’

‘Always.’

---