Three Fates

door opened to Gideon and Cleo. “Ah, well . . . hmmm. You’re back. These are associates of mine, Mother.”
    “Associates?” She scanned the faded jeans, the Gap bag Cleo still carried.
    “Yes, yes. We’re working on a project together. In fact, we were just about to—”
    “You’re working in your robe?” Alma demanded.
    “Busted,” Cleo said under her breath, but one of Alma’s many complaints wasn’t her hearing.
    “Just what does that mean? Just what is going on here? Tia, I demand an explanation.”
    “That’s a bit delicate.” Malachi stepped out of the bedroom. He, too, wore jeans and a smile that could have melted an iceberg at twenty yards. He’d tossed on a shirt, then deliberately left it unbuttoned. There were times, he’d calculated, the truth served best.
    “I’m afraid I distracted your daughter while our associates were out.” He crossed over, took Alma’s hand and shook it gently. “Completely unprofessional of me, of course, but, well now, what could I do? She’s so lovely. I see now where she gets it.”
    He lifted the hand he still held to his lips while Alma stared at him. “I’ve been completely undone by your daughter, Mrs. Marsh, since first we met.”
    He draped an arm over Tia’s stiff shoulders and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “But I’m embarrassing her, and you as well. I’d hoped to meet you and Tia’s father under less awkward circumstances.”
    Alma’s eyes rushed from Malachi’s face to her daughter’s, and back again. “Almost any would be less awkward.”
    He nodded, adding as much sheepishness as he could manage. “Can’t argue with you there. Hardly a good beginning to get caught with your pants down by the lady’s mum before you’ve exchanged how-do-you-dos. I can only tell you I’m enchanted by your daughter.”
    As gracefully as possible, Tia slipped out from under his arm. “Maybe you could step into the kitchen for a moment? All of you? So I could have a word with my mother.”
    “If you like.” Malachi cupped her chin, lifted it until their eyes met. “It should be as you like.” He touched his lips to hers, lingering over it before he followed the others into the kitchen.
    “I demand an explanation,” Alma began.
    “I think an explanation is superfluous, under the circumstances.”
    “Who are those people and what are they doing in your apartment?”
    “They’re associates, Mother. Friends. We’re working together on a project.”
    “And having orgies every morning?”
    “No. That was just today.”
    “What’s come over you? Strangers in your home? Strange Irish men in your bed in the middle of the morning? I knew nothing good would come of your running off to Europe. I knew there would be terrible consequences. No one would listen to me, and now look.”
    “Terrible consequences. Mother, what’s so terrible about me having friends? What’s so dire about there being a man who wants to go to bed with me in the middle of the morning?”
    “I can’t get my breath.” Alma clutched at her chest and dissolved into a chair. “There’s a tingling down my arm. I’m having a heart attack. Call nine-one-one.”
    “Stop it. You can’t call an ambulance every time we disagree, every time I take a step away. Every time,” she added, crouching at her mother’s feet, “I do something just for me.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My heart—”
    “Your heart’s fine. You’ve got the heart of an elephant and every doctor you find tells you the same thing. Look at me. Mother, can’t you just look at me? I cut my hair,” Tia said quietly. “You haven’t even noticed because you weren’t looking. All you see when you look at me is a sickly little girl, someone who can keep you company at the doctor’s and give you an excuse for a nervous disposition.”
    “What a horrible thing to say.” Shock had Alma forgetting all about the possibility of cardiac arrest. “First you take up with some strange man, and now you say horrible things to me. You’ve joined a cult, haven’t you?”
    “No.” Unable to help herself, Tia lowered her head to her mother’s knee and laughed. “No, I haven’t joined a cult. Now I want you to go downstairs. Your driver’s waiting for you. Go to your appointment. I’ll come see you and Father very soon.”
    “I’m not sure I’m well enough to get to the doctor’s on my own. I need you to come with me.”
    “I can’t.” Gently Tia drew Alma to her feet.