Memories of Love Read Online Free

bad,” Ivan confirmed. “Plus, Caleb’s sick of us cleaning up after the kid. He convinced me Aaron needs a lesson. He convinced Gordon, too.”
    “Poor Aaron.”
    “Only you’d feel sorry for him.” He followed her to the table and refilled their champagne glasses. “The kid’s a mess.”
    “He’s twenty three, not really a kid.”
    “That makes it worse.”
    She waited till they both started eating. “I think Aaron knows he’ll never measure up to the memory of his brother James.”
    The relaxed lines of Ivan’s face shifted into the flat ‘warrior’ mask he assumed too readily. “Half brother, and Aaron doesn’t even try.”
    James had been in Ivan’s army unit, and had died in the Middle East.
    “It’s sad.” She hesitated. “Your brothers didn’t join the army, did they? And they’re both younger than you.”
    “Ryan is a high school maths teacher and Steve is a helicopter pilot flying cattle musters in Queensland.”
    “Do they envy you your success?”
    “Why would they?” He stabbed an olive from the Greek salad. “Ryan is married with a daughter and Steve’s engaged to his girlfriend from university days. They’re both doing jobs they love.” He paused. “I’m the one Mum worries about.”
    “Why?” But she’d pushed too far.
    He shrugged. “Worrying is what mums do.”
    She let the conversation lapse.
    Silence never seemed to bother Ivan. He served himself a second helping of pasta—’good sauce’—and ate it, then insisted he’d clear the table. While he stacked the dishwasher, she spooned gelato into two bowls and added the strawberries she’d had soaking in sugar. Their flavour would be intense, brought out by the tiniest dash of balsamic vinegar. She contemplated the bowls for a moment, wondering if Ivan would think she’d gone too far.
    “Chocolate ice cream is my favourite.” He stretched out on the sofa in front of the television, his feet on a big matching ottoman, almost a seat in itself.
    She curled up in an armchair.
    “Do you mind if I watch the news?”
    It was something all women complained about, their men hogging the television remote control. For Rita, it was unique. She had to remind herself that this relaxed sense of closeness was false. Tomorrow, when she left the apartment, she’d lose it, too. “Go ahead.”
    He poured the last of the champagne into their glasses and lounged back.
    She finished her dessert and quietly took her champagne with her onto the balcony.
    “Are you okay?” The television still burbled, but Ivan stood behind her.
    “Yeah.” She turned and faced him, leaning back against the high railing. “I was just thinking about my house. I think I’ll rent a flat while I think what to do with it. I stayed there because it was the family home, but now that it’s gone, I don’t know if I can go back and rebuild. The memories are gone.”
    She ducked her head as tears stung her eyes. He took the glass from her hand and pulled her into his arms. She hid her face against his throat.
    “Memories never disappear,” he said. “Sometimes I wish they did. Wherever you go, they’ll be part of you.”
    “No. Memories fade. They vanish. That’s why we need photos and mementos, souvenirs. They’re all gone. All that was left of my family is gone.”
    “Ssshh.” His arms tightened.
    “My granddads died before I was born and my grans when I was a kid. I never had aunts or uncles, and then, Mum and Dad were hit by a drunk driver when I was nineteen. Mum died instantly. Dad died in hospital. He never regained consciousness.”
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
    “And now I have nothing of them. Not even the house. And I just have to keep going forward because there’s nothing else I can do. I’m scared and I’m tired.” She pushed at his chest, like a jumper-punch in football. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
    “You can tell me anything.” Her jumper-punch didn’t move him.
    “Why should I tell you anything? You