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21- Meeting Addison

"Keren, come closer." Ma'am Eunice requested.

I smiled warmly and stepped closer letting out a "Hi", as I stood a few inches away from Ma'am Eunice.

"Mr Addison, I'll like you to meet Kerenhappuch. Her dad, Nathan, used to work on the farm."

"That's interesting, It's sad I never knew Nathan."

His bold voice was intimidating. He was outspoken and sound in speaking, something uncommon in Douro Valley.

"It's a large farm with many workers, I understand." Mr Edmundo chipped in.

He turned to me and greeted, "Keren...ha...ppuch, it's really nice to meet you."

''It's nice to meet you too." As an afterthought, I added,

"Sir, you can call me Keren if Kerenhappuch is much trouble for you."

He chuckled and replied wittily, "if I'm to take a pound of flesh, then it would be Hapuch."

"Hapuch is kind of cool. You do that a lot?" I questioned,  glancing at his round eyes, which sat peacefully under lustrous brows.

"What could that be?" He took a step closer, a little puzzled yet curious.

"Hack people's names into fine pieces." we both laughed.

"It's truly a tragic flaw of mine which I intend to get rid of." he smiled turning to the Edmundos who tittered at our little conversation.

A striking feature of Addison was his 6.2-foot height and his charisma. He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties I couldn't say for sure. However, the way he carried himself like a French noble, in a savage town. Certainly, he was not a man from the region.

His matching white tracksuit smelt money and I could tell Vogue magazine would beg to have a picture of him on their cover. I may not know him but I think I don't hate him. I think he would be an interesting human being.

"I wish you could stay for a cup of coffee." Mr Edmundo suggested.

"That's so kind of you." He replied calmly.

"It's a pleasure, please come in." Ma'am Eunice said. We all walked in.

I held Mark and led him to the dining table while ma'am Eunice made the special coffee for the men.

Mr Edmundo had a small chat with Addison in the sitting room. I could hear faintly their conversation.

Mark busied with counting imaginary numbers, while I strained all the muscles in my ears, listening to them.

"How was your trip, sir?" Edmundo asked.

"It was successful to a large extent."

"Ah! that is good news. I'm sure Don Gonçarlo will be pleased."

"Well, My dad is a man of great taste, I'm sure he has a different perception of success."

He last statement struck me like lightning. "Did he say, my dad?"

"Are you talking to me?" Mark asked.

"Oh! what?"

"You said something about dad," Mark said, looking up at me.

"No! Not at all," I stuttered, "I was saying- I was.. uh- what's that?" I asked, distracting him.

"What?" Mark asked, obviously curious. Little did I know that Ma'am Eunice, as well as the others, had heard me.

Mr Edmundo and Addison turned to me without a word, I quickly waved at them.

"It's um..." I rolled my eyes, searching for what to say, "It's an ant. yes, an ant."

Mrs Eunice who was in the kitchen entrance popped out anxiously as if was informed of a time bomb, "An ant?!"

"I hate ants." Mark cried.

"uh-oh! everyone,"  I gestured with one hand on the table and the other in the air for emphasis,

"there's no need to be alarmed. I mean, ants are interesting and hardworking creatures. Even if they have four legs, we shouldn't discriminate them."

"It's actually eight legs." Ma'am Eunice corrected.

They all nodded including Mark. This meant I was the only one who didn't know that. Shit! Why did I mention ants?

"Oh! Right, eight." I nodded in defeat. "I'll make sure to google it." 

They all looked at me patiently waiting for my explanation. Immediately, I recalled that I was saying something before the interruption.

"Yes, it was a very, very, very," I tried figuring out my next line.

"It was a very small ant. But, it got away through the window." I pointed at the window behind Mark and forced a guilty laugh.

"Thank God." Ma'am Eunice sighed in relief.

"My wife is hypersensitive to ants." Mr Edmundo said to Addison.

"Oh! Sorry about that." Addison sympathized.

"It's no one's fault. We just try to keep the ants away."

They continued their conversation, this time, I shut my ears from listening. I never knew ma'am Eunice was allergic to ants else I would have mentioned something else.

Surprisingly, Addison's eyes would stray towards me, stealing a glance. As much as I tried avoiding his bone-weakening stare, I could still feel his eyes hover like a giant blanket.

Each time I turned to him he would reposition his gaze. Twice our eyes met and a flush crept up to my face, what was happening to me? I wondered.

Mrs Eunice served them the coffee and joined Mark and I, at the dining table.

"Mom," Mark called.

"Yes, dear."

"Who is Mr Addison?"

"He works with your dad." Ma'am Eunice replied.

Subconsciously, I was keenly interested in knowing who he was, where he lived, where he worked, virtually everything about him; still, I refrained from asking. The shy Jewish part of me would not let me, so, I used my ears wisely.

Sadly, my mouth betrayed me and I blurted out, "He doesn't look like it."

"How?" Mark asked.

"Like a worker in Don Carlo farm."

"That is because his father owns the farm." Ma'am Eunice cut in.

Dazed at this, I whispered louder than normal, "What! Addison is Goncalo's mysterious son!"

Just then the men approached us, the surprise could not easily be effaced from my head nor my face.

"It was wonderful being with you all." Addison appreciated.

"And you too Mr Addison, I hope next time will dinner." Ma'am Eunice teased as she came closer. Mark and I held hands while standing beside Ma'am Eunice and Edmundo close to the door.

"Certainly. To meet my new friend Mark and of course, Hapuch." He grinned. His gaze fell on me again and I was speechless.

For a moment our eyes locked and I lost something I couldn't explain; something I didn't realize I had lost until now. And that was my heart. I slyly forced away from my face, turning away as if afraid of him. Yes, instinctively my subconscious had warned of the dangers that were bound to be.

How long would I turn away? How far can one live, away from him? I watched him walk farther looking back twice at me; not just me, but the future I still couldn't see.

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