Immortal Unchained(44)

Domitian watched her briefly, but then opened his own can and began to eat the fruit inside. It actually wasn't bad, considering, he decided. It wasn't that good either, though.

"So, you are a chef," Sarita commented after they'd eaten in silence for a few moments.

Catching the wistful tone in her voice, Domitian glanced over to see her eyeing the label on her can with dissatisfaction. It seemed she wasn't completely happy with her meal. He couldn't blame her, Domitian decided as he chewed a piece of what he thought might be peach. The can label said mixed fruit, but while the pieces inside were of varying shapes and colors they all seemed to taste the same. He should have made her a meal before they'd left the house, he thought. Something hearty and filling and as delicious as he found her. He would like to cook for Sarita, Domitian thought. He wanted to satisfy all her appetites. Unfortunately, at the moment they didn't have the time for him to satisfy even one.




 

 

Deciding to distract them both from what they couldn't have, Domitian picked another piece of fruit out of his can, and commented idly, "Dr. Dressler is your grandmother's employer?"

"Yeah. She's worked for him for . . . God, I don't even know how long it's been," Sarita admitted and then tilted her head skyward and tried to work it out aloud. "Forty-some years, at least," she guessed finally. "My father was a little boy when she started to work for Dr. Dressler," Sarita said. "She apparently worked for him and his wife for eight or nine months before leaving my father and grandfather to move to the island."

"So she lived at home and came here to the house where we were placed at first, and then once they moved to the island she left your grandfather to live on the island permanently?" Domitian asked with interest. This was news to him. The reports from his private detective had only covered the fact that her grandmother still lived in Venezuela, worked for Dr. Dressler, and that Sarita wrote to the woman weekly. It hadn't covered the history of the grandmother. That hadn't been important to Domitian. At least, not until his uncle had arrived in Venezuela with several hunters in tow, claiming Dressler was behind the recent rash of immortals that had gone missing.

"Yes. Well, I don't know if it was just for the job. Maybe my grandfather was abusive or something. I don't know the whole story. It's the one thing Grandmother is reticent about. But, Dad-" she shook her head sadly "-he never forgave her for abandoning them. She apparently tried calling to speak to him, but he wouldn't take the calls, so she started sending weekly letters that he tore up and threw out."

Domitian's eyebrows rose. "Then how did you end up in contact with her?"

"My mother," Sarita said simply.

"How?" he asked. "Did she insist you write her?"

"No." She frowned at the suggestion, and explained, "Grandmother didn't know that Father was throwing out her letters. She must have suspected when she never got a reply, but she kept writing anyway and was still sending weekly letters when he and my mother married. Mom said he never mentioned the letters to her while they were courting, and when the first one arrived after their wedding, she was the only one home to receive it."

"She said she didn't think much of it until she gave it to Dad and he just tore it up and threw it in the garbage, and then left the room. She said he was grumpy the rest of the evening, which was unusual for him, and then was fine after that until the next letter about a week later, and the next. Mother said four letters came in four weeks that he just tore up and threw out, and each was followed by a night where he was angry and miserable to live with. By that fourth letter she'd had enough. She waited until he had slammed from the room as usual, retrieved the letter, and hid it away. 

"After he left for work the next morning, she fetched the letter. Then she sat down at the table, taped it back together, and read it. She was shocked when she realized it was from his mother. There had only ever been my grandfather in my father's life since she'd known him and Father had always refused to talk about his mother, so Mom had assumed Grandmother was dead and talking about her was just too painful for him."

Sarita fell silent for a minute and picked up her can again to pluck another piece of fruit out of it. After chewing and swallowing, she shook her head and said, "I don't know what was in that first letter, but my mother decided to write her back herself. Her first note was just to let my grandmother know who she was and that Dad didn't read her letters, but just ripped them up and threw them out."

Sarita smiled faintly. "Mom said she was just hoping that once the woman knew she was wasting her time writing, she'd stop sending letters and upsetting Dad. But a week later another letter arrived, this time addressed to her."