InvitingTheDevil (18 page)

I couldn’t understand, of course, what he said. He spoke to her for a while, at times interrupted by her or by Kalem. I knew then that her name was Isabella. I checked all the drawers one more time, the bathroom, the closet, and her nightstand. I’d left one pair of shoes for her to wear. I’d noticed she wore slippers. The doctor finally rose to his feet and so did Kalem. I noticed Isabella’s fingers trying to get a grip on Kalem’s pants. Didn’t work, so she hooked them into a pocket and hung on for dear life. Poor lady. Did she think he was getting ready to leave? Kalem obviously felt it and gently disengaged her fingers and spoke to her. Isabella nodded but her gaze never left him as he walked a few feet away and spoke with the doctor.

“I hear you’re going to take her home with you,” Moretti said.

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Good. She won’t need any extra care. Basically, she’s very strong and healthy. She’s not on any medication except at night we’ve given her something to help her sleep. She tends to have nightmares and she’ll get out of bed and sit up all night. I’ll write a prescription for you.”

“Maybe the nightmares will disappear now,” Kalem said.

“Perhaps. Have yours disappeared?”

“Yes. They did some years ago. And now that I have my mother back, all’s good.”

“I agree, taking her home with you will be good for her.”

“The chief of staff seems to think differently.”

“Ignore him. I’ll talk to him. He can’t stop you from taking your mother home.” In a softer voice he said, “I suspect you pay a hefty price for her care. That’s probably why.”

Kalem grimaced. “There’s no contract. He’s been paid for this month. It’s not as if I’m breaking a lease. To appease him, I’ll make a substantial donation to the home.”

“If you give me your address, I’d like to come and check on Isabella and you occasionally.”

Kalem took a card out of his wallet and wrote his address on the back. “Please keep it confidential. Only close friends know where I live. If I ever have a major gathering, I prefer to hold it outside of my home.”

“Of course.” He spoke to Isabella who responded and shook his hand. He nodded to me as he left the room.

“Here are her shoes, Kalem.”

He took them and crouched to take off her slippers. I laughed when she tapped him on the hands and promptly took them off herself. The slippers were very old and worn. Kalem picked them up and chucked them in a small garbage can. That caused another Isabella rant. She was apparently, very attached to the slippers and fished them out. Clutching them to her chest, she stood up. She was at least a head shorter than I was and noticed me for the first time. Kalem spoke to her. I heard my name mentioned. Her eyes were as dark as Kalem’s. She was still very pretty and looked quite young to have a son Kalem’s age. I imagined her with a rinse through her hair and a bit of makeup, her hair styled. No one would believe she was Kalem’s mother. She gazed at me. It felt as if she was looking right through me.

“What did you tell her?”

“That you’re my girlfriend but you don’t speak Italian.”

“What was her reaction?”

“That you need to learn the language.”

I laughed. “What’s with the slippers?”

“She was wearing those when my father died. They’re probably the only thing left from those days. Her clothing was so covered in blood, they probably trashed everything. You know how much a head wound bleeds. Are we ready to go? Did you get all her things?”

“I believe so. I did an extra check, but maybe you should do another sweep to make sure.”

“I’ll ask my mother.”

Isabella nodded and looked in everything. She seemed satisfied that I’d packed all her belongings and spoke to Kalem.

“She says thank you for packing her things.”

“Tell her she’s very welcome,” I said, feeling teary again.

Isabella held on to her son’s arm for dear life as he carried the suitcase. I followed them out of the room. In the hallway, I walked next to them. I was by no means that tall and I weighed less than a hundred pounds, but next to Isabella I felt like a giant. “Your mother’s so tiny.”

“Yes. She always was.”

“Was your father tall, like you?”

“Yup. But don’t let my mother’s size fool you. She can be as bossy, if not bossier, than me.”

Isabella exclaimed when she saw Kalem’s car and rattled on a mile a minute. Kalem laughed. “She wants to know how I can afford such an expensive beautiful vehicle. Wait until she sees the house. She’ll really flip.”

I sat quietly in the back on the way back to Kalem’s house. Isabella didn’t stop talking all the way there. Kalem took a detour through Little Italy. It had been eighteen years since Isabella had set foot on those streets, but she seemed to recognize many of the stores and houses.

“She wants to know why I don’t live here,” Kalem said.

“Did you tell her about your house?”

“A little. She thinks I should sell it and move back to the old neighborhood.”

“Probably because that’s where she first lived and a lot of people speak the language.”

“Once she’s lived with me for a while, if she still wants to live in Little Italy, I’ll see if I can buy a house for her there. I don’t like the idea of her living alone though. And she does need to learn English. I’m sure she’ll love Long Island, once she’s seen it. It’s the language that’s the main problem.”

“I agree with you on that one. My mother has lived alone since I left, but it’s a small town and her circumstances were different.”

“Mamma used to ride a bike. Maybe I should get her one. My home isn’t that far from stores. When she’s learned to speak English, she can go to Little Italy and do her shopping there. My chauffeur can take her wherever she wants to go.”

“Do you remember much about Italy?”

“A little. We lived in a small town near the sea. I remember my parents taking me to the beach, playing on the sand, swimming in the ocean. The house was nice, but not that big. My parents were considered quite well-off but Mamma always did her own cleaning and cooking even though my father often argued with her and wanted to hire help.”

“Do you know why she only had you? One child?”

“Yes. She would have loved more children, but it never happened. She never knew why.”

“Kalem, your name is really Francesco. Where did Kalem come from?”

“Oh, I don’t know. When I was young, it got shortened to Frank or Frankie and I didn’t like it. I saw the name Kalem in a book and I decided to adopt it.”

“You’d better explain to your mother. She’ll wonder why I, or others, call you Kalem.”

“I will, all in good time.”

“I like the name Francesco, and—”

Isabella interrupted us and I kept my mouth shut. After all, she had eighteen years to catch up on with her son. When Kalem pulled into the driveway of his estate, Isabella’s hands flew up to her face. Her voice, which had remained quite soft until now, suddenly became high-pitched.

“What is she saying?”

“That it’s scandalous. Too much money. I told her I’m rich. I can afford it.”

“That’s funny.”

“Mamma stems from simple folks. She’s always remained frugal even if my father could afford a lot more than most.”

We got out of the car. Kalem opened the door for his mother and held his hand out. Chattering away, she walked up the steps with him, pointing, shaking her head. When she stepped through the doors, she stopped and continued shaking her head.

“I take it she’s not believing any of this?”

“She wants to know how I got so rich.” He spoke to Isabella then to me. “I told her there’s plenty of time to tell her everything later. We have all the time in the world now.”

“Maybe you should have the chauffeur drive me home so you can be alone with your mother.”

“Honey, I want her to get to know you. I hope you can come here often and spend lots of time with her.”

I smiled, my heart filled with sheer joy. “I will, but this is her first day after so many years. I think you need to spend it with her.”

“I think I’ll give her the yellow room. Yellow was always her favorite color,” he said while walking up the stairs.

I don’t think Isabella had removed her hands from her face once since entering the house. She kept exclaiming from behind her fingers, her gaze darting all over the place trying to take it all in. When she saw what was to be her room, she walked around it, stroked the bed, the furniture, the curtains, and the mantle.

“She says it’s too rich for her. Damn, I don’t have a simple room.”

“She’ll get used to it.”

“Now she wants to see the kitchen.”

We went back downstairs. Isabella’s face was worth a photo shoot as she inspected the ultra-modern kitchen. What she liked best was the antique cooking stove Kalem had left there. It was never used, but it was part of the original house.

“She says she’s going to use that stove. Not the shiny fancy one. It might get dirty.”

I laughed. “That’s too funny. You’d better stock up on firewood.”

“Hey, that’s what she cooked on in Italy. She loves it.”

“Whatever makes her happy. What are you going to tell your cook?”

“I told her I have a cook and she told me to get rid of him. It’s wasted money. She’s very capable of cooking for us. I’m not going to fire him. He’ll have to learn to take orders from her and work with her and she with him.”

“Kalem, call the chauffeur and have him take me home? I’ll get lots of time to spend with your mother in the future. That’s, of course, if you want me to,” I said.

“If you insist.”

“Don’t be upset with me. I can fully understand Isabella’s feelings. She’s missed all your growing years, eighteen years down the drain. You two have a lot of catching up to do and you don’t need me around for that. I’d be lost anyway because of the language barrier and you’d have to translate constantly.”

“I’m not upset with you. Don’t ever think that. I’m grateful. It’s because of you that I finally took this step. I want you to be part of my reunion with my mother.”

“And I will be. Spend time alone with her today and tonight. And even tomorrow. Tell her about me. Well, not the saucy parts. When she’s ready to spend time with both of us, I’ll be waiting.”

“Okay. I’ll get Charles to drive you home. Reluctantly, I might add.”

He kissed me and held me tight. I noticed Isabella watching us. I wriggled out of his embrace and walked up to her. She was still admiring the old stove. Fortunately, I knew the Italian word for goodbye. “
Arrivederci
, Isabella,” I said and hugged her. She felt stiff at first, then she relaxed and hugged me back. Standing on her toes, she kissed me.

“
Arrivederci
, Danea,” she said looking up at my face.

I quickly left the kitchen followed by Kalem. “She’s delightful,” I commented as we approached the limo. “I look forward to spending more time with her.”

“You’re delightful. And now that my mother isn’t watching, come here.”

He took me into his arms and kissed me deeply. “I love you, Danea.”

“I love you back. I’ll call you later.”

Chapter Twelve

Two months later, Isabella was completely settled in Kalem’s house. I’d visited as much as time allowed. Kalem had hired an English teacher to teach Isabella English. She, in turn, taught me a lot of Italian. I’d also bought an online course to learn the language and kept surprising Isabella with new words I’d learned.

I loved her cooking. She outdid the bistro’s chef. Her spaghetti was to die for, as were many of the other dishes she cooked. It seemed to be her favorite hobby, that and gardening. Much to the gardener’s disgust, she was out on the property almost every day, digging, planting, snipping, and pulling out plants she found unnecessary. She even had the gardener dig up a plot for vegetables.

My photos graced the centerfolds of both magazines and during the last two months, of course, my mother found out about it. Much to my astonishment, Mom hadn’t said a whole lot. She asked me if I was still a virgin. I told her no, that I’d fallen in love with my boss. My statement caused such a series of questions that I decided to visit her for a few days.

During my stay with her, I told her almost everything. I left out the bondage parts and the porn shoot. She’d never understand, and I doubted if she’d ever see any of those raunchy pictures. She questioned my piercings. I told her tons of girls did that nowadays. Her reaction was far from what I’d thought it would be. She said she didn’t approve, but I was an adult and had to make my own decisions. If that’s what I wanted, so be it. I told her all about Kalem, about his reunion with his mother, and that brought tears to her eyes.

“Is he going to marry you?” was her main question.

“Mom, I don’t know. I’m playing it one day at a time,” had been my answer.

It wasn’t long before I found out Isabella was a devout catholic. Kalem drove her to church every Sunday, and in between to confession and whatnot. I’d not slept at Kalem’s house since his mother moved in. He came to my small apartment instead.

“You’re far away,” Kalem said.

“Thinking.”

“About what?

“Your mother. About us.”

“How?”

“Since your mother moved in with you, our sex life has changed. I love it when you make love to me, but you don’t seem to want the bondage anymore. We can still do it here, at my place.”

“It’s so small.”

“I know. Can’t be helped.”

I lay naked on the floor, my head on his lap. Clothes were strewn everywhere. I had no place to put the Ostarizo wardrobe, so it stayed in my living room.

“We can’t continue like this, Danea.”

“I know. Maybe I’ll look for a bigger, better apartment.”

He rolled on top of me, and pressed his lips to mine. After kissing me deeply for a while, he moved down to my breasts. “Spank me,” I whispered.

“Why?”

Okay, that was mind blowing. Suddenly he wasn’t into spanking anymore? “It turns me on.”

“I don’t turn you on?”

“You always turn me on, but you introduced me to a complete different world of sex. I like it. I want it again. Old-fashioned sex is boring.”

“I can accommodate you.”