Despair of an imaginary presence

      “I don’t know, it never seemed that way to me. Probably because I grew up in a complete loving family, unlike most of my friends. I have a good father, which now makes my standards in men perhaps too high,” Nemi smiled, running her finger along the rim of the cup. “A caring mother who will always understand me, despite the difference in our ages… I always know I can count on them. Of course, as in any family not without sadness: it hurts a lot to realise that…” It’s not worth it, it’s not worth digging deep, there are those experiences that even the best friends don’t know about, not to mention a near stranger. “Is there anything sweet for tea?”       Nemi stood up from the table, waiting for Einar’s reply. The abrupt change of topic changed the pace of the conversation, but he decided not to emphasise it. The measured, sensitive conversation about this and that over breakfast had been going on for about an hour now. The dialogue had reached the point of family relationships, more specifically Nemi’s family and their attitude towards her moving around quite a bit to study.       “Yes, there should be gingerbread in the bottom right locker.”       Nemi counted down the bottom right locker for a few seconds before squatting down in front of it to look inside.       “Peppermint gingerbread!”       The tea in Einar’s cup shuddered slightly along with his hand at the sudden exclamation from almost under the table. He leaned sideways a bit to see what was happening near the bottom right locker. His eyes met the belly of a girl who had already stood up with a bag of gingerbread in her hands. He quickly straightened up.       “Yes, the mint ones. Is there something wrong?”       “I just really like peppermint gingerbread,” Nemi practically whispered.       She smiled, removing the clip, and pulled out a gingerbread. Nemi looked at it with childlike joy and after a little thought, took another one.       It didn’t seem like a happy day, and the mood wasn’t one for dancing, but the minty gingerbread made everything a little more pleasant.       Einar looks at her simple, sincere joy at the most ordinary thing, and somewhere deep inside him, something tingles. He loves mint gingerbread, too.       “And your family?”       Einar took one gingerbread from the packet as well.       “Sorry… Shit,” Nemi laughed and sipped some of her coffee, though there was almost nothing left in the cup. “Sorry. It’s a matter of habit.”       “I understand, excessive courtesy is a habit you owe to either position or upbringing, and sometimes both.”       “Yes, it is.”       Nemi realised that Einar seemed to have dodged the subject as well, but decided to try her luck again. In an hour of conversation, she could find out next to nothing about him, the only information she mentally put into his profile was from Atala on the very first day.       “Atala talked a bit about the family business, about you inheriting the winery and running everything here. She mentioned something about your father, but…”       Einar looked at Nemi, at the mint gingerbread in his hand, before cutting her off half-heartedly.       “My father is dead.”       A pressurising, resounding silence immediately crept into the kitchen. Nemi raised a surprised glance at Einar, but he wasn’t looking at her. She almost instinctively touched his hand on her cup but quickly stopped herself.       “One more friend on my list.”       Nemi smiled bitterly, lowering her gaze to the barely visible coffee grounds in the cup, and Einar looked at her. At first, her words seemed harsh and he didn’t understand how she could be joking in such a grim situation, but when he saw her lowered eyelids he realised that there were no bad intentions behind it, she was just trying to lighten the mood.       “I’ve never seen my mother, my father said she was working in another country, but even after his death I never felt the urge to look for her. Why would I look for someone who hadn’t put an ounce of effort into being a part of my life? So I grew up until I was eighteen in this house with my father and…” He fell silent, but this time Nemi realised that torturing happiness was no longer worth it. “My father was a very reliable man, everyone loved and respected him. I really wanted to be like him. I still do.”       “I’ve caught a glimpse of people in town talking about you,” Nemi smiled. “You’re a favourite and respected person here too.”       Einar looked at her, amazed at the words. He knew that many people and the winery in Iparraldeco depended on him and the winery, and he caused people to be forced to be courteous and respectful. But to hear words about the respect and love of those around him from a man who had only arrived in town the day before yesterday had an entirely different meaning.       “Thank you,” he replied low and unsteady as if he didn’t fully believe her words.       The conversation had exhausted itself and was replaced by a thoughtful, slightly awkward silence. Everyone was trying to find something to say: ask another question, comment on the weather, give a compliment, say something about themselves, or leave it at that?       “Ahem…” Einar cleared his throat, trying not to think about the nervousness that had inexplicably set in. Nemi fixed her eyes on him, wondering what he might say. “…If you don’t have anything to do today, I could, um, give you a tour of the city, maybe the surrounding area too, if you’re interested, of course. If not, just say…”       “Sure, I’d love to,” Nemi smiled more flirtatiously than she’d bargained for, feeling as if she’d just been asked out on a date. “But I’ll need to go to Iparzis to drop off some papers and I think Mr Argus must have left me something.”       Nemi wondered what she could have forgotten: she had completed all her errands flawlessly, albeit sacrificing sleep in the process. Perhaps Argus should have given her a new hundred pieces of paper or some sort of methodology to prepare. Or had she not done something after all? Would she really get fired on her first day? In her pondering, she didn’t notice the surprised look Einar gave her, somehow not expecting agreement at all. The suggestion had formed on its own, he had not even had time to think about why it was possible to have a tour in the city. He wanted to walk with her, to tell her about his city, to share a part of himself, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. It’s not a date, he’s just showing the city, just doing a favour. It’s just peppermint gingerbread, lots of people like it.       “I can meet you near Iparzis.”       “Great! I’ll go get ready then so I don’t have to stay up too late.”       Nemi got up from the table and put the cups in the sink, still thinking about the hypothetical missed assignment. Need to call Mr Argus to make sure she didn’t screw up. She was already walking past the kitchen towards the stairs, but as she did she suddenly turned around and walked back. She took another peppermint gingerbread from the package and smiled as she left for the first floor.