The Sixth Life of Medusa

1. The Visitor

"Come on. Armando treats us well, and we don't even pay rent. Do you know the potatoes I used to make yesterday's gandinga were from the back garden?" Medusa asked with a proud grin. "I even gave—"

Her smile slipped at the look on Antonii's face. Since he returned home that evening, something felt off. She had caught him watching her with sadness more than once. Now they were about to sleep, and he wouldn't drop this topic she absolutely despised.

"But look at you." His tone was grim—defeated. "You are too refined to live in this... and with the baby coming."

Medusa burst into expletives as she ripped off him. Again with those lines. When would he stop? As she paced, she bit her thumb. Five steps covered the length of their bedroom. Everything about their home was small and bare, but she adored it all the same.

"I hate it when you're like this. Should I scar my face? Dress like a hobo? Is that what you want? I'll do it." And she was serious, but Antonii wouldn't know.

"Don't be like that." Groaning, Antonii pushed his curly hair away from his brow and knocked the back of his head against the headboard. "Just think about it for a moment. We'll need a plan. Kids are expensive. And what if there are birth complications? I don't like your giving birth at home idea... and the baby, what if it gets sick? With the farm so far away from the next—"

"Don't worry about it," Medusa said mid-pace. "And our baby will never fall sick." Neither will I.

Sighing, Antonii observed her with tired eyes. He seemed so sage-like, as if he could read her thoughts and knew her more than she knew herself. And he always acted ancient—very ironic when she was the ancient one in the relationship.

"You don't know that," he finally said.

Ha, if only you know. Moments like this were a prod to the heart. Guilt urged Medusa to lay everything bare. All her secrets. Antonii would believe her, right? But fear and doubt sewed her lips shut. Out of the lives she lived, this was the only one she accepted the love of another or willingly carried a child. It was too precious to ruin.

"Listen, May. We can be careless with ourselves, but the case is different when our kid is involved. Living here..." he glanced around and shook his head. "Living here, I don't think it'll do. Let's move back to Almonte."

It stung; his words were needles. How was it that he couldn't see things the way she did? Before agreeing to be his wife, she had shared her dream, and he eagerly promised to make it come true. What was this now?

Stopping her pacing, Medusa stared at a coin-sized stain on the worn carpeted floor. No amount of scrubbing could get it off. "Do not look down on our home." Working on a farm in a peaceful Puerto Rican town was a blessing. Work wasn't back-breaking labour either. Yes, their house was small and their belongings sparse, but they weren't poor.

"I'm not looking down on our home." His gaze turned imploring; he appeared even more exhausted. "I just... I just want more for us. I can get my former job back when we move."

Who is filling your head with nonsense! Medusa bit her lower lip instead of yelling those words. Antonii was not to blame. It was understandable that he would be like this, after all, she had not met him on some remote farm in the outbacks. Gah, this was annoying!

"You don't have to agree with me immediately," he said in that low please-be-understanding voice. And it was working. Medusa was beginning to see a dot of sense in his argument. "Give it a thought. We still have months before the baby is due."

"Fine." Marching back to their bed, Medusa settled next to him all the while grumbling.

"Don't be mad." He grabbed her hand and wove their fingers.