Monik despised procrastination, that sneaky little pilferer of time and opportunity. Besides, she liked a project. Her love of projects had caused her to walk down the aisle on two occasions because she couldn’t resist planning a new phase of life after the sad demise of a husband. It was time, however, to look to the needs of others.
Natalia needed a man.
At the novena the following week, there was the usual shuffling monotony about everything. Then a voice from the recesses of the church: “For all those who are lonely. We petition Thee, O Heavenly Father, to look upon them with pity. Saint Anthony Wonder Worker, pray for us.”
Could it really be? After all these years? It did sound a bit like him.
It was. Mathias Faleiro had returned.
After the service, he came up to her. “My dear Monik…”
“Mathias, how absolutely wonderful! When did you get back? Is it for good?”
“A week ago. Ah yes, we’ve returned at last to glad Goa.”
Glad? A man who smelt of camphor and old coats probably turned every celebration into a happy requiem. Still, here was a man. But just a coconut-plucking moment. “We’ve returned? You mean you got marri…?”
“Oh, no, no.” Mathias looked at his toes. “I mean Barkis, my trusty canine friend, and I. I retired from teaching five years ago. Then we lost Galileo, and it was a little too painful to stay on. Besides, the ancestral place here was falling to pieces.”
“I promise to drop by sometime, Monik, as soon as I can get my place fit for habitation.”
Poor, ignorant man. He had no idea that he was going to be dragged to Villa Rosa. On-a-leash.
“Mathias, do. Please.”