Page 74 of An Accidental Flatmate

“Nothing important.” Had her mamá just blushed? “We thought we’d be back before you.”

Her father arrived seconds after his wife. “Hello, BB.” He enfolded her in a hug, the hug that had always made her feel special as a child. She’d climb onto his lap and tell him her troubles, and he’d kiss her and everything would be better.

It was unfair that at this stage of his life, when he should be able to think of retiring, his injury had upended all his plans, his sense of who he was, and his role in the family. In the absence of anyone else, Bea had adopted the provider role.

Releasing her, he turned to Casildo. “Welcome to our home. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you last time you called.”

“Thanks for the invitation, Mr. Gomez. Dinner smells fabulous,” said Casildo.

“Call me Tomas.”

“And you’d better call me Antonella,” said her conservative Mamá.

“Maybe we can get past the hall. It’s a bit crowded here.” Bea had a sense of floating in a parallel universe. Her parents had waited months before they’d given her brothers-in-law permission to use their first names.

“Casildo, you go with Papá and Beatriz into the loungeroom. Girls, you can help me with dinner?”

Bemused, Beatriz followed Casildo and Papá. She was normally the sister in the kitchen helping with food for their guests. Had her absence created change?

“Can I get either of you a drink?” her father asked. “Water, wine, a beer. I’ve got non-alcoholic beer if you’d prefer?”

“Sounds good.” Casildo crossed the room to assist her father.

“I’ll have a red wine, please, Papá.”

“We’ve got a good Nero d’Avola to go with your mother’s meatballs.”

“Sounds lovely.” She rarely drank at home. She was rarely waited on at home. Is this how her married sisters felt when they visited? Pampered, like guests in their childhood home. I could get used to being pampered, but not waited on hand and foot by her parents.

“How’s work?” her papá always asked. “Jackson Smithers giving you any trouble?”

“The barbarian?” She giggled. “That’s Casildo’s name for him. And I’ve spoken to my boss Martin privately and told him Jackson stole my ideas. He gave me a fair hearing and said he’d get back to me.”

“That’s my girl. Was that your idea too, Casildo?”

They hadn’t been in the house twenty minutes and they were in murky territory. Bea had expected the questions to come from her mother, instead, Mamá had primed Papá for the cross-examination before dinner.

“Just the nickname,” Casildo said easily. “Because we’re in the same industry I’ve met a lot of Beatriz’s colleagues. But I’m glad to hear she outed Jackson. He’s been starting to get a reputation for sneaky dealings in our circles, hence my nickname for him.”

“Maybe I should help Mamá?” Beatriz made to stand.

“Let your sisters do it for a change.”

“For a change?” She’d thought that because Papá was largely tied to the lounge chair he hadn’t noticed the division of labour in the house.

“Why did you and Mamá have to go out?” Bea asked. Their absence with guests arriving was so out of character, Bea couldn’t let it go.

“Some business we’ve been doing. A few details to finalise.” He was matter-of-fact.

“Anything I can help with?” she asked instinctively.

“No, my darling. Your help got us to this point.”

Bea opened her mouth to ask more questions, when her mother interrupted, “Dinner’s on the table.” Her mother stood in the doorway, signalling her father to stop talking.

Plates were passed around, more drinks poured. Her parents sat at either end of the table as they always did. She and Casildo were diagonally opposite. Fran looked like she’d won Lotto, swivelling in her seat to monopolise Casildo.

On her side of the table, Lisa pouted.

---