The planned day out with her brother- in –law did not begin as well as she had hopped because of the peculiar behavior of Francis at the Country Club and then the abrupt departure of Miranda and her Japanese friend from the Pinheiros in the Praça Benedito Calixto Squaro. Nevertheless, she had kept her spirits high and Francis on his part too was in a relaxed and jovial mood when the strangers were gone. Together both had an excursion in the city that could be deemed a moderately successful affair.  However, that planed afternoon adventure had ended in a total disaster.  Coming face to face with an Oldman introduced to her as Father-In-Law, and noticing his placid and squalid room, was too much for her to bear. It is not that the poverty of the man and his surroundings that bothered her. The possibility of him coming into her life at that time when she was dreaming of reaching beyond the upper middle class status frightened her.

 It was of utmost importance to her that Miranda and her husband support their full membership in the Sau Paulo Country Club. Today’s calculated affair of impressing Miranda had not gone as well as planned and now, this new obstacle stood between her and her ambitions. Recently her husband had received recognition from the world of science and she wanted to cash on that prestigious event. She was doing all this in her own old fashion ways and was quite annoyed at Pascu for not taking any interest in it. “He is so modest,” she would try to justify his indifference towards her aspirations to Miranda and Stanly De Costa. Her mother, who always claimed distant relationship with some obscure Royalty of Portugal or Spain, depending on the audience, built her own psyche systematically.

“Remember, this mediocre world we are forced to accept life as it is, but it is us, the nobility that must keep the memory and sense of the original grandeur of European Culture of the past alive in our hearts. Someday, the Monarchy that lead to human progress throughout the history of mankind will return to rule the planet. Don’t believe too much what was said by the Rabbi in the Sermon on the Mount. Poor will never inherit the earth, they never have. The new Monarchs will emerge in one form or the other. In politics, the Emperor has no cloths. Marry a man of substance, and preferably an older one, just as I did. I was only nineteen when I married your father twice my age because he was on a right path of ascendency.” It sounded like a convoluted Nietzsche’s outlook towards human progress in life indeed.

Most of her mother’s influence had waned as time passed and Rosita grew up in the markets and streets of Sau Paulo. When she finished her education in Nursing, she knew her mother was always hallucinating about the grand world of the centuries that buried the emperors in the pages of its history. However, the seed of that ambition to rise above the society she had lived all her life, remained dormant in her heart.  By just a coincidence that she got a chance to study specialized nursing course in Rio where she bumped into a young Psychiatrist Dr. Pascal Mendez. It was the proverbial, ‘falling in love on sight’ phenomena.  No two opposing personalities could have come into each other’s orbit. He, a typical specimen of intellectual, introvert man of science and her, a fiesta queen, full of mirth, joy of life and an optimist of high degree. She would find an ounce of joy in an ocean of sorrows. It was her nature to take the helm of a love-boat as soon as she came onboard. She fascinated Dr. Mendez. Perhaps it was his scientific mindset pulled him to her as subject of human study and after seeing her inside with his psychiatrist’s mind , he discover her as a man does a woman. On her part, it was all amore, coupled with the honor of his appointment at the hospital to a prestigious post of Chief of the Department of Mental Health with the invitation to many other social perks. Over the next twenty years, they lived a happy life. When he began his practice in Sau Paulo, he was the most qualified physician in the region. Things were moving smoothly. She met his family in Goa, London and eventually Francis came in her life.

It is the last event, the arrival of a RC Priest in her life that initially elevated her hopes of rising in the world of Roman Catholic Religion. She and her husband were moderate, liberal bending Catholics like their friends. They paid their dues to the Mother Church, attended the Mass on irregular basis but kept the Monsignor happy with supporting the causes with their checkbooks. Having a brother in law who is a Jesuit -like Priest, and has served in the remote part of the world was an asset to her, but then today’s event brought a difficulty she had not foreseen nor was prepared for.

On the way home, she was battling with the diverse ideas in her head.
 “Where did you leave Francis?” That was the question she dreaded answering and that would be the first of many, Pascu will ask.
“Should I tell him that Francis discovered your father in the back of a street speakeasy place, or pretend I did not understand the language, tell a white lie- He met someone he knew in Goa and stayed behind to take care of him as a missionary would?”

“How long that lie would survive when Francis eventually bring Frank Menendez home to meet the rest of the family including his grandchildren?” She mulled over the questions all over again as she pulled in her garage.

Fortunately, Pascu had not reached home from the hospital. Today was his late coming day of the week Children had finished their routine activities. She went to her room and fell in her bed without changing into home attire.  In her mind, the storms were subsiding and rationality had returned.
Lying was not in her nature and she had not faced any occasion to hide anything important as this from her husband. There was that autoresponder built in her psyche by the belief in the science of psychiatry. As if the education in the realm of human mind made a Psychologist foolproof from the deceptions and distortions of reality, we the ordinary humans dish out to each other in the normal course of living.
  
“You don’t have any choice but to layout the scene as it is.” Her honesty advised her.

“Not now; wait until tomorrow. He will be late tonight and you can go to bed early; buy time. Francis may not do what you are thinking he would.”

Her cautious, pragmatic mind directed her towards another path that grudgingly may be, would be acceptable to her morality. She decided to wait and see. Pascu would be out early in the morning and tonight, he definitely would not wake her up just to find out how her day went. Perhaps, he may assume, Francis is in his room and not bother to check on him also. She got out of bed, finished her toiletry and went down to see if the Sonya the housekeeper took care of her children’s meals before leaving for home.  

Rosita sat down with her kids, heard all about their day’s activities, and complains about other kids and teachers and then Michel asked her about their uncle Francis.
“Is he in the bedroom? I want to ask him something important. My teacher wants to know if he will visit the class and tell us about the Amazonian People and Animals.”

“He is not here; he will be back tomorrow then you ask him, I am sure he will love to visit your class.” She assured him, and she promised them to come and tuck in the bed since dad was going to be late that night. They ran upstairs to their room to watch TV shows and she went to bar, poured a glass of Sherry, and came back to the living room. 

It was seven thirty in the evening and she had another two hours to reflect on her situation before Pascu would reach home. This was the time reserved on her calendar in every week for her mother. Rosita utilized it to get in touch with her mother to make her current with the special events happening to her and family. May be it was the lingering effect of her mother’s life long indoctrination, Rosie turned to Aggie when she felt uneasy about discussing anything with her husband or if she needed a new strategy for dealing with her rivals in the battles for the social dominance of her group.

This situation was unique and a wrong step could bring unforeseen consequences upon her. In all other familiar battlegrounds, the retired Five Star General Aggie had served her well. Rosita was hesitant to ask this time because she practically read her mother’s advice before receiving it.

“Get rid of both of them. One Cockroach is enough to infest the mansion; that will be a total disaster my dear child. Loss of Dining privileges in the Country Club, friends avoiding you, no home parties and even the Monsignor will find a way to coincide your invitation date with an event in his calendar. Don’t be a fool. I told you not to marry that Indian but you did not listen.”   Rosita was imagining her mother speaking to her, as if they were facing each other. She took a deep breath and picked up her Cherry to sip. Telephone rang at the same time and she put the glass down. Aggie was on the line.

“ It is past Seven forty; you did not call and I got worried.”
“Oh mother, it is only ten minutes past our call time; you make such a fuss about everything. He is not going to be home till ten, we have plenty of time to chat.”

She did not wish to speak to her mother that evening knowing that Aggie had a knack of reaching to her hidden emotions via anxiety floating in her ears through Rosie’s voice. Like the eyes on the rear of her head, this mom had long arms to reach through the phone machine and pull everything out. Pascu naturally avoided her like the plague.

As predicted, all events and the anxiety-filled life were painted in front of Rosita by the master artist.

“Just offer them money; if you want to hide from your husband, tell me where they live and I will handle the whole thing very discreetly; may be they will go back to India to live with their relatives there that place,… what’s the name?” She stopped to think and remember it. Rosita got an opportunity to stop that torrent.
“ It’s Goa; G-O-A , mom. Please stop it. I don’t want to discuss this now. I have headache and want to go to bed. We will talk again as soon as I decide what to do. Just stay out. I will ask you for the advice when I need one. We are not dealing with Miranda; it is my life.” Rosita was angry at her own weaknesses.

Aggie sensed the gravity of the situation and backed off. “Whatever you say dear, but don’t you let the Indians force you do what you don’t want; after all it is your home and you have the rights. I am worried but I will wait for your next call. Give my love to kids and tell them they have to visit me next time school vacation comes around.” Then she hung up.

Rosita felt weary and rundown. She was hungry and mechanically went to kitchen to get something to eat. After tucking the kids in bed, she retired to her bedroom. Somehow, the new, unanticipated turn on a straight road became unmanageable. She began reassessing the situation.

“Am I making a mountain out of a molehill?" She wondered.  “Why I lack empathy towards that Oldman is not explainable condition. How can I reject my husband’s father based on lack of social standings, like my mother, or that matter, Miranda and the Country Club friends would want me to?  Don’t I love Pascu as passionately as I did when we met? I must take all that comes with him is the right thing to do. I am a Professional Nurse; a caregiver, not a social climber like Miranda or Aggie. I am going to the right thing.” Her conscience pushed her to the right path. She set an alarm for early morning and went to bed.