My Enemy’s Daughter

AMELIA LEALBelonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

Dallas, Texas.

I read the fate of the passage again, squinting at the woman who brought me into the world, she is sleepy, has a lost look and has been silent since we left the house. There was no argument when Dad informed them that the two of us would be traveling to another country later today, all there was a long exchange of looks between them. No protest or battle, just acceptance. She looks devastated, actually broken in the poetic sense of the word. Lost in her own thoughts, unable to comment on our trip or anything minimally relevant. This is driving me crazy.

“Here, thank you very much.” I turn my face in Peter’s direction, taking back my cell phone. He borrowed it when he realized his was unloaded and kind of ended up forcing a dialogue.

“It’s all right?” I bring up the subject, trying to soften the dense atmosphere that formed between us and divert my attention from Mom. He smiles and sits down next to me, looking like the guy I knew as a little girl, and I almost feel relaxed. Almost.

He sighs and runs his hands through the ruffled strands, making them even more ruffled. His appearance has changed during this short period we’ve been apart, his hair is longer and his beard is not clean.

” Yea. Aurora, she’s still at her house, and she’s going to wait for me to pick her up on my way back.” he says, looking uncomfortable in her seat. I nod, turning my gaze to the only person I care about right now.

“How is she?” he asks and sighs.

” I don’t know. Alive, maybe?” I venture, not knowing for sure what I’ll do alone in another country if she continues like this.

” The best thing for her now is to get away from all this confusion, to breathe fresh air. It’s going to be okay, Amelia.” His hand rests over mine, and he gives a light squeeze, I smile awkwardly, discreetly disengaging myself from his hand.

It’s not like I forgot what he did or said, in fact, I didn’t even want him to be here, but my dad subpoenaed him and didn’t want to create a scene to have to explain later.

“I hope so.” I say and pretend I’m messing with my phone.

” Sorry. I really don’t know what’s going on with me, I think my preoccupation with Aurora’s condition has made me focus on you somehow.” Speaks, awakening my concern.

The state of Aurora?

“Is she and my nephew all right?”

He looks at me and remains silent for a few seconds, lifting his hand and brushing away a strand of hair that was close to my eyes.

“Peter…” I whisper, and he pulls away, looking straight ahead.

” Yes and no.” Say it and I hope to finish it. Her expression acquired a serious and somber tone as the seconds passed. “The pregnancy has become risky since she ended up in that hospital, we must avoid any upsets, events or discussions that might make her more nervous than usual.”

My chest tightens, remembering how our parting went. There were no hugs or kisses, no see you later, just a look full of memories and resentments. Guilt invades me, not only for the lack of a goodbye, but for the kiss that Peter gave me. Heavens, if she had seen?

Didn’t he think of that when he kissed me? I look at him, anger rising in my chest, but his defeated expression shakes my posture.

“They’ll be fine.” I try to reassure him, stroking his shoulder automatically in an intimate but innocent gesture. He takes advantage of my lowered guard and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

” I will miss you.” He says, using a seductive tone, holding my eyes to his, messing with my psyche.

A curse makes us pull away.

“Our flight is leaving, daughter.” A grumpy Dona Anna Maria stares at us, looking completely like the woman of a few minutes ago.

I shake my head, stunned by his sudden change in posture.

“You remember who to look for, right?” Peter speaks, looking between me and her.

“We’re not going to Missouri today, not after traveling for hours inside that metal bird. Mom sounds gruff, wrinkling her nose as she looks out the big glass window and spots one of the aircraft already on the runway.

” Okay, I’ll tell the driver to stop by tomorrow, do you need me to book a hotel?” A solicitous question.

“Don’t worry, Peter. We can take care of ourselves, we’re adults, and I’m her mother, I’ll take care of our reservations and send a message to that man myself.”

My brother-in-law opens his mouth, speechless. Slightly embarrassed by Mom’s curt treatment.

“Okay, let me know when you get there.” He speaks, but directing himself only to me. I hear Mum huff softly, but I nod to Peter.

“Well, thanks for bringing us. Take care of my sister and take care of yourself.” I say, gripping my suitcase tightly.

“I’ll take care of it. is all he answers.”

Mom and I went to the departure lounge, one next to the other. “I’m glad we’re leaving this country, daughter. There’s nothing good for us here.” She talks as if I had no intention of returning.

I look at the phone still in my hand and all I can think about is him, his dark eyes pulling me like magnets, his hands touching my body possessively and his mouth lasciviously taking mine. I waited to call, swore I would call and explain her disappearance, but no, no text.

Maybe, deep down, Mom is right. There’s nothing good here for either of us.

” Let’s go?” she says, holding out her hand for me to take.

“Let’s go.” I answer, matching her smile by intertwining our fingers.

Boredom overwhelms me, the days grow longer as they go by, and I feel like I’m risking going crazy here alone. Mom collapsed, only needed to set foot on land again for her melancholy to snatch her back to the zombified state.

” Argh.”

I throw the cell phone against my bedroom wall, seeking some relief.

It’s been more than a month since we came here, more than a month and nothing has changed. Dad asks me to keep him posted on Mom’s condition, and all I do is watch her gradually wither away. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, the rosy undertone of her skin giving way to the pale, lifeless look.

“Hey, is everything okay?” The door opens at once, and I jump in fright, looking at the person in charge in disbelief.

“Who are you?” I inquire.

“Apparently your salvation.” Says, all smiles and arch an eyebrow.

“How did you get in here?”

She laughs and enters the room, ignoring that I didn’t invite her to enter. She is a stranger.

“Well, I’m sorry. I rented this house to a certain Augusto Leal.  He stops, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully. “You’re his daughter, right?”

A smile voluntarily spreads across my face for the first time since we arrived.

“Amelia.” I say, getting comfortable with the stranger.

” Come on, I need an assistant to deliver a baby.” She says, nodding for me to follow.” I lock it in place, blinking as I watch her smile grow.

” What?” I ask and she bursts out laughing.

Maybe, she’s not so nice.

” A birth? A real birth? With a kid and all?” My eyes drop to the rounded shape of her stomach and my breath catches. “It’s not your birth, is it?”

The girl arches her eyebrow and gives me an understanding smile, she pulls her long brown hair up to the top of her head and ties it back. The well”drawn face makes me wonder if she’s not some famous actress in a retreat or something, the blue eyes are so clear that they remind me of the cloudless sky of New York, but also remind me of Aurora. Yes, they are similar from some angles.

“Sorry, Amelia. My name is Melissa and I need help giving birth to Vicenzo’s mare and not mine.”

I sigh in relief.

“I don’t…” I start to stutter, assuming the girl is crazy.

“Don’t worry, leave it to me. I’m a veterinarian.” She speaks, turning her back to leave the room, but stops, she turns and looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes. “Well, almost one. Come.

I don’t have time to run away or object, his hand grabs mine and I’m pulled out of the house within seconds.

“Is there no one to help you?” I really don’t believe I can. I say, starting to panic with every step. She clicks her tongue but doesn’t say anything until a minute later, when we enter what I believe is the barn and I spot the mare lying on her side in a haystack.

” No, my husband is at the bistro and my little boy… well, he’s too young for the task.”

” What about Vicenzo?” I ask, remembering the name of the man she spoke to.

She stops and looks at me sympathetically.

” Vicenzo is the name of my son, Amelia.”

“Oh.” It is all I can get out before the mare starts to protest.

God help me.

Who is this woman, and why does her face look so familiar?