Monica had a long conversation with Savannah, Billy's aunt by marriage, who had long known that the life of a housewife was a kind of perfected confinement—a routine of happiness and solitude that sometimes edged close to those past moments when everything was cornered between repetition and the perpetual blow of life.
-I have some pretty shirts I only used for modeling, they still have the tags. -said Monica as she opened the leather suitcase. Inside was everything she expected: plenty of clothes, dresses, shoes, and a few pieces of jewelry she'd been given—gifts she usually disliked, since they came from those intense or pretentious men who only wanted to sleep with her.
-They're beautiful. -whispered Savannah as she looked at the gold diamond earrings—Cartier—along with some lovely bracelets worn in the new fashion: thin Italian gold, silver rings, silver bangles.
-That necklace is for Cassidy. It's simple, just a small diamond point. -answered Monica, noticing that the jewelry she set aside for Cassidy was clean and light.
-Then I suppose my daughter will be thrilled with every piece. -sighed Savannah, wrapped in a pile of clothes, though she would only keep two dresses and the beautiful shirts. A farm woman needed the most practical clothing for her daily tasks. On school trips and everything else, people only dressed up for town events—parties, occasional commitments that came every four months.
-Well, she goes out more. She needs to feel pretty from so many angles. -answered Monica with a delicate smile. It was her way of agreeing, or of softly saying yes to what was being offered. Being accepted was hard for her; her life was a sea of insecurities she masked with beauty. Her deep eyes combed through people, and her sculpted body placed her whole presence in an unreachable line of comparison across all human profiles. From there, her fame—and everything that came with it—was a layer of aura woven into the halo behind her secrets and her true self, that inner self she reserved only for herself, slipping free every time her eyes fell on Billy.
-Well, I only brought what I thought could be useful to you. -said Monica with a faint smile as she called Cassidy to take the rest of the clothes. It was just a matter of adjusting a few sizes, something Savannah would handle, being an expert at sewing.
-How is it, then? -asked Savannah.
-How is what? -
-Traveling the world with the handsome Carson, the one who got all the good genes of the family. -answered Savannah.
-Well, that doesn't look very good… he's just intense like anyone else close to us. For months or years now, very few people have a true point of comparison when it comes to will—hard and indistinguishable. -answered Monica.
-We travel a lot and we have fun. Money always helps make things simple. -she said bluntly, longing for a life built on that reality.
***
Billy held a piece of meat in his hands, finishing the cuts into portions. He used all he had, taking it piece by piece with a simple intent, without rushing a glance. He sat beside his father. For just over ten days now, Thomas Carson only wanted to spend time with his eldest son—the one he was proud of in most circumstances.
-Ivanova told me about your refusal to stay past the second. -said Thomas, taking a sip of his beer.
-Monica's parents want their daughter. She already spends so much time with me. -said Billy, drinking a beer he had needed for a while. Relaxing was difficult for him—something broken inside resisted it—while he worked hard every single day for more than two months.
-Come home more often. We can grill anytime you visit, or maybe eat one of Livi's dishes—she cooks meals now like those in a restaurant. -he replied cautiously, without hiding how much he missed Billy whenever he had the chance to do anything or share an opportunity.
-Ahhh, time always brings discomfort… I'll just show up one day when you're not expecting me, and I know you're home. I've been buried in work, and even though most of the time I want you to be part of my life, my right hand, I know we have to keep distance because family and business don't mix well. -Billy answered, aware of how difficult life could be.
They both drank their beer, doing the only thing they could—eat their meat calmly, as much as possible. Time became relative when time itself sat at the table with them.
-I think it bothers anyone. -said Thomas. -It's true, you can come whenever you want, and your father always has meat in the fridge. -
…
The Carson family home did everything it could—it never fell behind. Less mentioned, but they had a trip to Italy coming, and Billy's tired eyes made him appreciate the idea. He clung to it, an intense way of being that had grown with the incandescent traits of love.
-How arrogant he can act sometimes, Mr. Carson. -said Monica, resting her head on his shoulder. She wanted everything from him, from as many angles as she could reach.
-You can be just as intense as anyone else. -answered Billy, taking in her way of showing affection—clinging in every direction she could. Many of these gestures came from simple things, from hugs, kisses, and now a deep fondness; she fixed his clothes, crossed into his personal space.
-It's cold, but we could go down a little. -whispered Monica.
-It is, actually. -said Billy. -I think we could spend some time in the south, where the weather is friendlier, and the cold only comes from the sea winds. -he whispered, well aware of how warmth made Monica softer, sweeter.
-I want you to take me to the beach. Somewhere no one can bother either of us. -said Monica, giving him a kiss as she pressed all of herself against him—everything, just for him.
...