She went very still for half a second. The way a gazelle would on the plains. Deciding whether it would bolt or stay.
Brown eyes meeting his. And then she blinked and softened and a smile touched her lips. And her eyes said she
wasn't sure how serious she was supposed to take him. But she answered honestly.
"I'd like that." The tips of her fingers skimmed his cheek lightly and the quiet smile touched her eyes. "I'd like to see
where you live."
"I'm going to hold you to that, you know." He said honestly, but he was being serious. She could run away and talk
flippantly all she wanted, but if Mike thought he was 'screwed,' well, he wasn't the only one. She was mightily 'screwed'
in that area also.
"I'd like that too." She answered softly, eyes still on his.
Then she looked away, taking a drink. Still not sure how far to believe him. Returned the conversation to safer ground
before she asked for things she didn't have a right to ask for or started wanting things she shouldn't. "This house of
yours," she looked back with a smile. "Is this where you keep your piano?"
Hector laughed. "By default." He said with a nod and a grin. "It was my grandparent's house, on my dad's side.
Grandma was a concert pianist in her day, so she taught all of us. I guess that's what grandparents do, teach the
younger generation." Especially when the parents wouldn't or couldn't. "She had the most inhumanly long fingers, I
swear she could scale two octaves without moving her wrists."
The thought that he'd bought his grandparents' home sank itself deep into her heart. She'd often wished she could
have bought out her grandda's flat when he'd passed, even as old and in constant need of repair as it had been. Just
- because there was so much warmth and happiness tied up in those little rooms. The thought that Hector had bought
his own grandparents' home, even knowing he wouldn't see it often or get to live there for possible years... she
brushed the back of his hand gently with the tips of her fingers.
"It must have been nice to have a house full of music like that." She smiled up at him before confiding cheerfully: "I was
a horrible disappointment to my grandmother. She expects anyone with culture and civility to be able to play some
musical instrument. I however -" she held up a long hand and wiggled her fingers in front of both of them. Threatened.
"And don't tell anyone, it might make them nervous - was hopeless clumsy. I scared off two piano teachers and broke
a very expensive violin. Grandmother blamed it on Da's genes of course." She'd finished her meal and she set the
plate aside with a sigh. "I should be grateful. She used to send my cousins on circuits, like trained show dogs. Even
did the bows in the hair for one of the girls." She laughed quietly but she wasn't joking. "Poor Bea." Tipping her face
she looked up at Hector and asked: "Did they ever make recordings of your grandmother's concerts?"
"A doctor with clumsy hands. Now you tell me." He teased as he set his own plate aside and finished his juice. Then he
nodded. "They did. Annaliese Carter, she did some solo stuff, chamber music, played with a symphonic orchestra.
Then she taught at Tulane for a bit, that's a college in the United States. In her retirement she taught the
neighborhood kids to play. I think that was actually just her way of filling the house with kids again, since her kids had
grown up and scattered."
She stacked his dishes with hers but didn't stand up to start washing them immediately. Comfortable the way they
were and reluctant to leave it. Instead she wrapped both hands around the bottle of juice she was holding and shifted
a bit so she could rest the side of her shoulder against his.
"It must be nice to still be able to hear her whenever you want to." She stated softly. Knowing she would have given
quite a lot to be able to hear her Grandda reading her stories again. She glanced over at him. "She sounds warm. As
if her house would be happy. How many children did she have?"
"Seven. Four daughters, three sons. One died in Vietnam, my uncle, before I was even born." He said. "An aunt
passed away from cancer when I was thirteen. Then there's my dad, Uncle Brian, Aunt Anna, Aunt Betsy, and Aunt Vi.
Plus the cousins and husbands and wives. Aunt Vi has had four husbands. Always manages to out live them all. She's
working on number five now. But it is nice, we play the records and CDs when we all get together, or when we're
alone." OF course all his were back in the states, where they'd be safe, not out here in the desert.
"Do you get together often then? For the holidays and the like?" she asked, shifting a bit to face him more. Watching
his face when he talked about his family.
He shook his head. "Not so much anymore. We've all got our own lives, and problems." He said with a shrug.
"Happens, the hub isn't there any more, and all the spokes just kinda...flew off." He said, making the gesture with his
hand. "It’s all right, we're a boisterous bunch anyway, so its less fights for me to either get involved in or settle." He
chuckled a bit. "Last time we had a family reunion my cousin nearly broke my nose over a football game."
"Yeah?" She seemed to find it more funny than threatening. "You said the Yankees and Yellow Socks were baseball
teams. Do you hate someone in professional football from a century ago as well? Or was this a home game?"
She was curious. Not so much about the football. It was more what wrapped around that. The large family. The idea of
one. To her it was more foreign than the concept of different country. And as intently as he'd listened to her talk about
her father earlier, she wanted to hear more now.
"Football is actually one of the gentler sports for us." He said. "No big rivalries or death wishes. We leave that to
baseball alone." He watched her as she listened so closely, as if she were absorbing details like he had about her
father. "Your family is pretty small, isn't it?"
She shifted. Feeling suddenly guilty as if she was a child again, looking at toys her family couldn't afford to buy her.
"Just three." She slipped smoothly off the counter and collected the dishes. "And the elephants." She added as she
moved over to the sink, giving him a smile over her shoulder. "We can't forget the elephants." Starting the wash up
she added: "And you never did tell me why your cousin thought you deserved a broken nose."
"Because I called him on the fact that he owed me money over a game. He was hoping I'd forget since I wasn't even in
the country for the Super Bowl, that's the big football game of the year, but we had it beamed in by satellite. Think I
was in Indonesia or something." He shrugged. "Elephants sound better behaved."
"Oh yes." Andi agreed, voice sounding serious as she washed dishes. "Elephants actually pay you the money they
owe." She smiled at him over her shoulder before going back to what she was doing. It was strange but she liked
washing dishes. It was relaxing and something that used to bring out the storyteller in Grandda. They'd stand together
at the sink, her washing him rinsing and drying and he'd talk. About the past. Story after story. She'd double wash
dishes just to draw it out.
This was different. Hector certainly wasn't her grandda, which was just as well considering the way she was reacting to
his presence. But she liked the sense of being close to him and listening to him talk and - and she liked being able to
do something as small as make dinner for him.
"So did you get your money?" She asked.
"I did." He said, nodding. "Waited until he fell asleep and took it. Left a note calling him a sucker or something like that
in his wallet instead. He's still threatening to get back at me, you know. So that should be interesting. I think he's in
Wisconsin now, he drives truck for a produce company."
He watched her from his seat on the counter, turning around to face her fully, one leg on the counter, bent at the
knee, the other one hanging down almost to the floor. "Like I said, we're boisterous."
She had to laugh at that, lowering her face for a moment as she did so. She liked the way his family sounded. At least
most of them. And she liked the way he sounded when he talked about them too. She couldn't imagine being that
comfortable around extended family. Thanks to That Incident she hadn't even seen most of hers for almost ten years
now. And when Grandda had passed the family had shrunk to 'just three'. Hearing about rough and tumble easy going
extended family was a bit like listening to a fairy tale. A comparison that would make most people laugh. And probably
sounded pretty pathetic.
But she liked hearing about it anyway.
"It sounds like you have fun. And that you love each other very much to be that comfortable together. Threats of
bloodshed seem to indicate a bonding among men." She shook her head. "I'll never understand." She glanced at him,
gave a pointed look at the side of his arm. "Apparently you and Mike felt the need for bonding too?"
"Guess you could put it that way." He said with a nod, at the subject of Mike. "He's a good guy. Just a little...doesn't
matter. We settled it, I think." He rubbed at the bruise and chuckled. "Wait till you see it tomorrow." He tanned easily,
so the bruise hadn't grown into its full color potential as yet, still slightly hidden by tanned skin. "So how do you feel
about Swiss bankers?"
She put the second pan in to soak. Thinking... sometimes she just didn't understand men. At all. Though they
apparently understood each other well enough. She was about to ask what Mike was 'just a little' of when Hector
asked his question out of the blue. Her eyebrows came down and she laughed as she shot him a look. Wondering how
his mind had jumped the track so thoroughly that it ended up in Switzerland. One of her hands reacted, shifting palm
up as the fingers opened.
"I give up." She admitted, still smiling at the oddness of the question. "Where did that come from? And am I supposed
to answer that historically, geographically, or personally?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "Any. All. Do you know any Swiss bankers?" He asked. Hey, it was quite the topic of
conversation between him and Mike. Was no way he was going to drop it, even if she had no idea where it was coming
from.
Which was probably just as well that she didn't know w here it was coming from. Besides, she looked cute confused.
She flicked soap suds at him.
"One of my brother in laws is a banker. He's German, but will that do?"
"So you do have sisters." He said. "Brothers in law don't count. So you never told me you have at least one sister.
Where did she come from?"
She shook her head with a quiet laugh.
"I'm sorry." She turned around to face him, ticking points off on her soapy fingers. "Andrea is my mother's daughter's
sister from a second marriage. Martin was her first husband. So he's actually an ex-step in law on my cousin's father's
side. He runs the funds for Da's church and since he's not 'related' anymore he actually still talks to us. So I feel
awkward calling him my 'not quite cousin in law'." 'Brother in law' also put a nice spacer between them whenever he
came to visit as well. And she was hardly going to go into family history right now. "Why are you suddenly interested in
bankers at the moment?" She asked.
"Scoping out the competition. Don't ask." He said with a laugh. "Wow, your family sounds confusing. Think I might
need a piece of paper to figure that one out. So Andrea is your half sister's half sister from the father not yours, and
she married a banker, but the first husband before your father runs the funds for the church AND is your cousin? I
think I have this completely wrong."
She laughed.
"You don't know the half of it." She agreed. Forgetting about the soaking pan for a moment as she leaned a hip on the
counter next to him. "Mum was married before Da. To Richard, a man that had been married before. He had two
daughters by his first wife, Avril. Rose and Lily. Mum and he got divorced. He kept Rose and Lily. Two wives later for
him, he married a woman, Katherine, that had children of her own and one of them was Andrea. Andrea met Martin at
one of my Grandmother's many outings. Martin - " she paused, about ready to tick off the next round of tree limbs and
looked up at him with a puzzled smile.
"Why are bankers competition?"
"Cause they are." He said simply. "You would be right at home in the south. Usually our family trees get all twisted and
confused because, well, the towns are small. We all intermarry and interbreed. Bet if I go back far enough I'll find
cousins that married or something. Which is why I don't go back very far." He laughed, changing the subject off the
competition.
"Family history is a scary thing. Especially on the French side." She agreed with a smile. Looking up at him with dark
eyes and thinking... how very little she liked the idea of him marrying someone from his hometown. Some fresh faced,
'all American' girl that had never even seen the border of her state, straight out of school, living in his grandmother's
house and raising his children. Utterly insipid, she decided, disliking the fictional girl already.
"You mentioned a cousin in Wisconsin. And grandparents from Louisiana. Not all of your family must marry within the
city limits."
"Well, sure, lately. Once we admitted the Civil War was over and it was safe to travel beyond." He joked, warm laughter
filling the kitchen, already declaring war on any Swiss bankers that came with in fifty paces of her. How petty was that?
Very, he decided, but he didn't much care. "I don't know, America is its own horse. I mean, we got states bigger than
most European countries. It’s a big deal to go from one side of the country to the other, you know? Like three
thousand miles from New York to California."
"Everything is 'smaller than Texas.'" She quoted, with a grin. Enjoying the sound of his laughter. "I suspect you
Americans made Texas that size just so you could compare everything to it." She touched the tip of his nose playfully
and than turned back to the last pan. "Do people from your home town travel often?"
"Not so much. I'm the big traveler I guess." He said with a shrug. "And my cousin, he's been all over the US. Course,
he doesn't count it, because all he does is drive through them. In that vein, don't think you can even count me then,
because I don't do a whole lot of sightseeing."
She finished up with the pan. Vindicated against the fictional hometown girl that didn't travel and smiling to keep
herself from laughing over how silly that was.
"Then you should definitely do some sightseeing." She commented, rinsing the pan off with smooth, efficient moves. "If
you were near Zaire the next time you had leave you should meet my parents."
"You never know. Might go out of my way." He said with a wink as he watched her rinse off the pan. "But first I gotta
get home and replace some shingles. From what my sister told me, a nice storm blew through a bit ago, knocked
some of them off. Broke the neighbor's window, but its okay. Never much liked him anyway."
She set the pan to the side with the other dishes to drip dry and dried her hands off on a hand towel as she shifted
back over to stand near him. Looking up at him in the dim light and shadow. She touched his knee softly.
"My parents would like you." She told him gently. Then she gave him a smile and asked comfortably:
"Who watches your house when you're not there?"