The sand colored walls of the hallways in hotel Bastion Hotel closed in on Dario. His legs felt like pudding beneath him, and he gripped the wall for stability. Still, the thought he could be Ella’s dad made him smile. He’d guessed as much, but until he heard it from Irena, he would not make assumptions. His brother’s offhand remark infuriated him, he restrained from punching the smirk off his face. After several blinks, Dario’s vision cleared. He glanced at Irena’s room door, ensuring the ladies weren’t about to step out. It wouldn’t look good if they walked out in the middle of his and Ante’s brawl. The white wood panel remained closed.
Dario placed a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder, gave him a hard squeeze. “The thought crossed my mind, but I know Irena. She would get the word to me that I’m a dad. Besides, there’s not the slightest resemblance in Ella to me.”
Ante shoved Dario’s hand off his shoulder. “Irena’s situation was hard, that’s why she didn’t or couldn’t tell you.”
Ante’s reasoning calmed Dario’s initial panic. He took a long step back and an even longer breath. “I can’t imagine why Fred would want to raise my child?” Dario shook his head, calling Ella his child didn’t sit right just yet. He wished it to be the truth, but he would
hate to find out that his joy was premature. “From what Irena said, Fred likes…how should I put this? Well, let’s say…girls don’t excite him.”
Ante raised his finger. “Didn’t I say as much? We never saw him dance with a girl, in fact, we never saw him do anything with a girl. But when the guys got tanked and stupid, Fred would join in their drunken dance.”
Dario pondered Ante’s theory. “I wasn’t paying close attention to Fred’s follies back then.” In fact, he’d barely noticed the guy. A costly mistake. Irena’s parents spend too much time hanging out with Fred’s family. They were often seen strolling together along the lower promenade. They must’ve debated the details of their children’s marriage. “A few guys from our gang said he grabbed their butts. We laughed it off. It’s not like it’s a crime if guys turn him on, but why then did he need a wife?”
Ante raised his hand as if asking a permission to speak. “Here’s a thought for you. Fred has the hot’s for men. Chances are his parents knew of their son’s sexual orientation and that he’d never get a wife on his own accord so they found him one. They denied any rumors about him.” Ante screwed his face. “You know the kind of gossip—could he be queer? So they married him off and a few months later his wife is pregnant. Whoa, whose son’s a gay now, eh? Rumors stop and he goes on, has a boyfriend on the side. Irena raises the baby on her own.”
“Jeez, you may be onto something,” Dario whispered. His throat tightened. Irena’s parents had married her off to keep him away, because all he could give her was poverty, yet doomed her to the miserable
life with a rich husband. Doubtful Fred would provide for her and someone else’s child. The fact she raised the child on her own told him she worked for her money.
He nudged Ante toward the stairs. They’d spent too much time pondering, he risked Irena and Ella coming out of their room and finding them there, instead of at the reception desk settling her hotel bill. “I can’t imagine the hardship she’s endured. I wish she got a word to me somehow. It would be easier to take the news in earlier. So, I could be a dad.”
The thought sank in and started to take hold, but another memory sluiced the fuzzy feeling around his heart. “No, this is crazy. Irena was afraid—terrified actually—of getting pregnant. Her dad would kill her, she said she rather commit a suicide. She wouldn’t sleep with me until her eighteenth birthday. Once she turned of legal age, she wouldn’t require her parent’s consent to ask her doctor for the pill, but her parents would need to sign the form.”
A smirk appeared on Ante’s face. He laced his fingers over his stomach, corners of his mouth dipped and he drew in a long breath, just like their late mom when she was about to give them a lecture on life. “And did you make love on your last date?”
Despite the sorrowful parting at dawn, warmth flooded Dario with the memory of their last night together. “Yes, several times, in fact.”
“And did you use the protection?” Ante mimicked their beloved mother’s voice and stance whenever she posed such question. Bless her. Mom had always made sure her boys stayed true gentlemen, even if chivalry was going out the window. She had voiced her displeasure about them having unwed sex, but Mom wasn’t a prude either. What he wouldn’t give if she could see her granddaughters, she’d wished to be a grandma.
Dario snorted at Ante’s imitation, he nailed it every time. “Of course I did…well, except for the…oh, God.” He’d lost control and couldn’t…shit. Irena wasn’t freaking out, so he thought she may be close to her time of the month. A strange thought occurred. Maybe she wanted to get pregnant, but why not tell him? She knew she’d be welcomed in his home. Mom loved her like a daughter. Knowing Irena, she wouldn’t put an additional burden on his parents. Their meager checks from social assistance barely fed them. What kind of job could he lend with high school diploma in the post war-torn economy?
“You’ll find all the answers soon. Took me a while to believe I was a father and I knew of my Jasmin since that stick turned positive.” Ante pointed his chin at the reception. “Go settle Irena’s bill. I’ll bring the car around.”
“Sure.” Dario dug the keys from his jacket’s pocket. “Careful around the corners.”
“Quit with the driving lecture. I’ve been driving longer than you.” Ante shook his head, turned for the exit and waved over his shoulder. Dario glared at his back. Ante had to rub it in he’d gotten his driver license before him, his older brother.
Dario stepped to the reception desk, pulling out his wallet. The same receptionist raised his head and glanced at him, flashing a smile.
“Miss. Claire called, she said you’ll be settling her bill.” He placed his thin hand over the tray of the printer. “How will you be paying?”
Miss. Claire, the name she’d given to his neighbor. Dario should’ve known, she wouldn’t check in under her real name. Ella wouldn’t be checked in under her name either. Smart. Irena knew her husband would try bribery and she protected herself and the hotel staff with an alias.
Dario opened his wallet. Would he have enough to cover their stay? Paying via credit cards would leave a record of the transaction under his name, and if Fred was as resourceful as Irena had said, he wouldn’t have problems tracking him down.
The receptionist plopped the sheet of paper under his nose and pointed at the bottom line. Dario pulled out all his cash. He gave the clerk a pitiful smile. “I’m twenty Euros short. Ante would have some if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”
The young guy scooped the money from the counter. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll come back with the rest.”
“How do you know?” Dario shoved his now empty wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
“One has to be living under the rock not to know you. Or not live in this town. You’re Dario.”
Dario shook his head. Okay, he couldn’t remember everyone’s face, but he never imagined the younger generations would know him. “And you are?”
“Andy Paleca.” The youngster said his name as if Dario should know him.
Dario rubbed the stubble on his chin, trying to recall meeting the youngster, but couldn’t, though the last name seemed familiar. “Sorry, have we met?”
“No, but you were in the same classroom with my mom, I’m Tamara’s son. She asked if you could get me a job here.”
A light went on in Dario’s head. Still, he couldn’t quite place the youngster. He’d helped many get the job. “Sorry, can’t remember you, but I know your mom. No need to thank me. Tell your mom I said hi.”
Andy nodded, but his glance darted at the foot of the stairs as Ella appeared, a heavy bag bouncing on the shoulder strap. “Hi Miss Danielle, can I take that for you?”
Danielle?