Previous part.. Susan and Roger, a couple who lives in a chalet, receive the letter of the brother of Susan, with they argued 2 years before. Susan manages to convince her husband to invite her brother for dinner as a sign of peace..
“Roger? Are you ready? John will be here soon.”
“Yes,yeah. I’m ready. What do you think about this?”
“Mhh..it smells delicious!”
“I’m cooking your favourite dish: roast.”
” I’m already dreaming the dinner..”
Suddenly, from the outside came a sound of heavy footsteps and a voice.
“Suzie? Susie Q? Is there anyone at home??”
Roger looked at his wife then he went to open the door. He found himself in front of a tall man in his twenties, his face numb and red for the cold weather and the snow.
“Hi John, come on in.”
Susan left the kitchen and hugged his brother.
“Hi , little brother, lovely to see you. Oh, but you’re frozen! Come , sit down in front of the fireplace. Delia..good dog!” she added to the little dog which was trying to jump on the man to say hi to him ” Dinner will be ready in a second.”
John sat on the armchair and rubbed his hands in front of the fireplace.
“So..how’s work, Roger?”
“Not so bad. But the snow is slowing everything down. If this bad weather goes on, I’m afraid we’ll close soon.”
“You know, I always thought that you’d had continued to write.. The stuff you posted wasn’t so bad.”
“I takec it as a compliment,thanks John. I have to secure the future of Sue, you know it. I have no time to live in fairytales.”
“Grat. I was haped you said so.”
The two sat down. The tabled seemed more happy than ever. Susan outdone herself: baked potatoes, salad, a steaming roast, sauces, side dishes of every kind. An hour later, after the dinner, thay were in the living room eating a piece of apple pie with Delia which was snoozing on the carpet in front of the fireplace, her blly full of all the little pieces of roast that she’d managed to beg with its beautyful face of honey-colored Labrador.
“You’re a wonderful cook,sis’.”
“Thanks, John..So, how’s your girlfriend?”
“Unfortunately, Irina is due to retourn to Russia. That was a temporary gig and she wasn’t allowed to stay,so..”
“Oh,cdear..Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so. You know, our relationship is a modern one. It’s without any obligation.”
“Almost one-night stand..” said Roger.
“Roger!!” retorted Susan.
“Don’t worry,sis’. He’s right, after all. Nothing serious. Anyway, it’s late. I’d better go now.”
“With this weather? John..isn’t it dangerous?”
“Don’t fret Sue. I’ll be fine. I know how to behave in a car. Snow won’t be a problem.”
“John..Look, why don’t you stay here for tonight?”
“Well, I really don’t want to bother you..”
Roger look at the guy.
“No, it’s too dangerous.Sue’s right. You can’t go anywhere with this storm. Staying here for the night it’s the best thing to do.”
“Duty. Upstairs there’s a guess room. You can stay there.”
John disappeared upstairs. Susan looked at her husband,smiling.
“I’m so proud of you,sweetheart.”
“Thanks. I don’t really like murders. Send him out with this snow it’s..barbaric.” Roger said, pouring himself a glass of Brandy. He rarely did that.
“Do you want me to bring you your typewriter?”
“Uhm..yes, thank you, dear.”
Susan smiled and pulled out a trolley from the moving disappearance. That was an old desk on which Rogers added whells,so it became a sort of trolley. It got stuck perfectly with their forniture of mahogany.
In that trolley-desk there was Roger’s typewriter.He hated Internet and almost all the electronic devices (although he recognized their importance and pratical comfort). For him, writing was a unique pleasure. Hearing the “Tictictic” of gthe buttons and the funny noise made by the tape when it was running out of space was like listening to music. He couldn’t not write in another way, or at least, he couldn’t write with passion in another way that wasn’t with his beloved Olimpia. He sat down, in front of the trolley-desk. Susan kissed him and hugged him tight.
” Good night, honey. Good work.”
Susan climbed the stairs, greetedc her brother and entered in her room,leaving the door open. After few minutes the “tictic” of the Olimpia. Susan listened to it for a couple of minutes. She loved when Roger typed.