I feel so lovely.
It was a wonderful way to start her shopping trip. The store was similar to grocery stores at home, with well-stocked aisles, push carts, and brightly colored cereal boxes stacked high on end displays. The main difference was that all the labels were, of course, in Spanish. With her mother’s list in hand, she strolled up and down every aisle, trying to distinguish any familiar words on the labels that would confirm that what she had picked up was indeed a can of plain tomato sauce and not enchilada sauce.
The entire shopping trip took nearly an hour, and even though she tried to limit herself, Carolyn did end up filling all four of her cloth shopping bags. The two heavier ones she put over her shoulders, one on each side. The lighter two she carried in each fist. She let out the strap on her adjustable shoulder purse so she could wear it across the front of her the way bike couriers in San Francisco wore their document delivery pouches. She felt like a pack mule.
Downhill was nicer than uphill, as her mother had mentioned. Nonetheless her arms were sore as she rode the elevator up to her mother’s apartment on the seventh floor. Setting down the bags in front of her mother’s apartment, she felt the results of the strain she had put on her muscles. Even though she was perspiring, and her arms felt weak and wobbly, she had a feeling she was going to like the overall aerobic benefits of the jaunt.
Carolyn used her mother’s key to let herself in. As she opened the door, she could hear her mother speaking to someone in Spanish and guessed she must be on the phone with one of the aunts.
Carolyn lifted the shopping bags again and walked quickly to get all four of them into the kitchen before her arms gave out. She had just deposited them on the counter when her mother called from the living room, “Carolyn, we have a guest.”
Expecting to see one of her cousins, Carolyn brushed her hair from her perspiring face and forehead as she exited the kitchen. She pulled on the front of her shirt, billowing it outward in an effort to cool off, as she trotted into the living room where her mother was sedately seated with the guest.
A man in a Tommy Bahamas–style beach shirt rose from the sofa and turned to greet her. His presence seemed to fill her mother’s living room. Among all the bric-a-brac and lace, he was definitely the most masculine object in the room. And the most handsome.
“Hello again, Carolyn.” The blue-gray eyes softened at the sight of her.
This time she couldn’t even whisper his name. All she could think was, You came back.
“Él que la sigue, la consigue.”
“He who follows it, attains it.”
BRYAN WENT TO Carolyn and awkwardly greeted her in the traditional style, lightly touching his cheek to hers. His closeness unnerved her, especially because she was aware of how rumpled and sweaty she was. She noticed he wasn’t the freshest fish in the bucket either. Both of them obviously had been out and about that afternoon. Yet here he was, standing in her mother’s living room. That was a surprise she never expected.
“My flight out of Madrid was canceled,” he said.
Carolyn jumped in with the first thing that came to her mind. “They have good orange juice there. At the airport. It’s fresh sneezed.”
Her eyes widened, as she realized her mistake. “I mean, it’s fresh squeezed. Freshly squeezed, I should say. Freshly squeezed orange juice. In Madrid.”
Looking to her mother for some support, Carolyn said, “Would anyone else like something to drink?” She was aware that her incoherent chatter gave the impression that she had drunk a little too much, as if she had been downing a bottle of Spanish rioja while she was gone.
“Nothing for me,” Bryan said, with a slight grin lightening his expression. Her fumble seemed to have put him at ease.
“Nothing for me either. Why don’t you join us?” Her mother smiled calmly, as if she were watching one of her soap operas on television instead of watching her own daughter presenting a comedy routine in the living room.
Bryan stepped aside and motioned for Carolyn to take his place on the sofa.
“I need a drink of water. I’ll be right back.” Carolyn tried to make a graceful exit to the kitchen, where she filled a glass with water and used a dish towel to dab away the perspiration on her face, neck, and chest. Billowing her shirt again a few more times, she took another sip of water and returned to the living room.
On her way back, she took a chair from the dining room table and positioned it beside the birdcage by the window so she could face her mom and Bryan. The look on his face reminded her of the expression he gave her the first time they met.
She was at her grandmother’s house in a rural area outside of Las Palmas and had taken a basket of laundry outside to hang on the line. Bryan stood in the yard next door, not more than twenty-five feet from her, with all that wild beachboy hair, wearing a brown-and-yellow-striped T-shirt. He lowered his tanned arms and the slingshot he had been using to unsuccessfully snag a bird. When he turned to meet Carolyn’s disapproving gaze over his aggression toward the birds, Bryan responded with the sort of amused grin that said, “So, I have your attention now, do I? Well, let me see what I can do with it.”
His expression mimicked that look now, and Carolyn could feel herself sliding into her eighteen-year-old mind-set. She resisted the dip. After the resolutions she had made earlier at the pool, the way she felt affirmed at the salon, her victory at the grocery store, and the sense of empowerment from carrying all the groceries home, Carolyn wanted to be fully present as a forty-five-year-old woman. Or to be more precise, a forty-five-year-old widow.
“Your mother has been giving me some good counsel,” Bryan said once she was settled. “Part of the reason I decided to return after my flight was canceled was because I have some business dealings I need to work through in Las Palmas. I realized I would be better off working on them here rather than back in the States. I also knew your mother would have some reliable resources for me to contact.”
Carolyn waited for more details, but he ended his explanation there. She glanced at her mom, trying to get a feel for whether Bryan was aware that they knew about the fallout between him and Angelina over the terms of the will. Her mother’s expression gave no hint one way or the other, so Carolyn decided it would be best if she kept quiet on the topic and just listened.
They chatted for a few minutes about Carolyn’s impressions of the grocery store and the afternoon traffic. When she explained that she had walked to the store and back, Bryan looked impressed.
“Not having my car any longer is one of the luxuries I miss the most,” Carolyn’s mother commented. “I am spoiled, of course, in that I can call upon one of my sisters or nieces at any time and be taken anywhere I want to go. I do regret not having a car now while Carolyn is here. I’m afraid she’s at the mercy of the relatives as well, if she wants to go someplace.”
“I don’t think that’s a disadvantage at all, Mom. And I had no trouble when I took a taxi to your birthday party.”
A sweet expression passed across her mother’s face, as if she were lingering over a pleasant memory. “That was a wonderful party, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Bryan agreed, casting a glance at Carolyn. “As a matter of fact, I was wondering if the two of you might be willing to join me for dinner some night this week. We could go back to the same restaurant, if you like.”
“We would be honored,” Carolyn’s mom answered for both of them.
Carolyn looked at her mother and then at Bryan, offering him a nod. He knew how things were done in the Old World. By coming to ask advice from Abuela Teresa and inviting both of them to dinner, he was honoring traditions that had long since gone out of fashion. Carolyn knew her mom would like the way he was treating her. He was a smart man.
“But I have another restaurant for us to go to,” Carolyn’s mom said. “And I’ll make the reservation for us, if you don’t mind. I know the owner. Tomorrow night, then?”
Bryan looked at Carolyn. She nodded, not sure what other options were ope
n to her. She was willing to get cleaned up right now and go out tonight, but if her mother’s choice was for tomorrow night, then tomorrow night it would be.
“What time would you like me to pick you up?” Bryan asked.
In keeping with the traditional Spanish style of eating late, Carolyn’s mom suggested eight o’clock and added, “If you don’t mind us being among the first to arrive at the restaurant.”
“I’ll come by at around seven thirty. How does that sound, Abuela?”
Carolyn’s mother dipped her chin, gracefully receiving the way he addressed her as a respected elder as well as the “date” for tomorrow night.
After a few more minutes of casual chat, Bryan glanced as his watch. “I should be leaving.” He stood, and Carolyn followed him to the door. She tried to keep her comments light and hoped she didn’t pop out with some other “fresh-sneezed” phrases. The truth was that being around Bryan filled her stomach with flutters.
She had assumed the encounter at her mom’s birthday party was a serendipitous, one-time event that had turned into a small gift for her when he apologized. Now she didn’t know what to make of his return and the formal but nonetheless intriguing invitation to dinner. It made sense that he would decide to come back and settle the family problems with his stepsister, but he didn’t have to come to her mother’s apartment.
They paused at the door, and Carolyn said, “Thanks for coming by.”
“I called your mom first, and she insisted that I come over. She assured me that I wasn’t interrupting her time with you.”
“No, not at all. And I’m sure she told you that you would be welcome anytime.”
“Yes, she did tell me that.”
“Good.” Carolyn could feel a rivulet of perspiration trailing down the center of her back.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. It will give us a chance to catch up.”
“Yes, it was nice of you to invite both of us. I think my mom appreciated that.”
Bryan looked to the side for just a moment. Turning his focus back on her, he appeared to want to say something purposeful, but he hesitated.
Carolyn wasn’t sure what to say next.
Bryan’s expression calmed. “It’s really good to see you again, Carolyn. Really good.”
She felt her face redden and wished she didn’t blush so easily. “It’s really good to see you too.”
They lingered another moment before he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then. Seven thirty.”
“Yes, seven thirty.”
He opened the door and left without attempting another one of their previously awkward cheek-to-cheek farewells. As soon as the door closed and the sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the elevator at the end of the hall, Carolyn exhaled the long, slow breath she seemed to have been holding inside while they were saying good-bye. She still didn’t know what to make of all this.
Returning to the living room, she found her mother sitting back with her hands folded in her lap. Her lips formed a thin line, but her enlivened eyes made it clear she had a secret.
“What did he tell you?” Carolyn asked.
“Let’s have some tea.”
“Tea? Now?”
“Yes, let’s have some tea.”
Carolyn knew it was useless to pester her mother for information until after the tea was prepared, so she set to work. As the kettle boiled, she put away the groceries and then prepared a small snack, or tapas, as her mother called them. When everything was ready, Carolyn carried the nibbles into the living room on a tray along with the steaming tea. It reminded her of how Marilyn had brought Carolyn the tea and apple slices a month ago when she was in such a slump over how things went with Ellis.
A warning sign went on inside her, reminding her not to project expectations on the dinner with Bryan tomorrow night simply because he had said he was glad to see her and looked forward to dinner. She never wanted to put herself in the same sort of vulnerable position she had been in with Ellis.
But this is different. Isn’t it? For starters, he came right out and said he wasn’t married when we were at the birthday party. At least I have that assurance to go on.
Carolyn put her thoughts aside and sat down gracefully, as she had been taught as a child. Her manners ended there, however. She leaned forward. “Okay, tell me. What’s going on? What’s your big secret? You look like the cat that ate the canary.”
Her mother frowned and cast a glance at Alma in her swinging cage. “Don’t say that in front of my little friend.”
“Then tell me what’s going on. I can tell you’re holding something inside.”
Carolyn’s mother took a slow sip of tea.
“You’re incorrigible, you know.” Carolyn shook her head.
“Incorrigible,” her mother repeated. “That’s a word I have not heard in a long time.” She took a bite of a tapa, and Carolyn gave up. She remembered her mother playing these sorts of games with her and Marilyn when they were younger. Marilyn always found greater delight in the drawn-out taunting than Carolyn did.
Putting down her cup of tea and rising, Carolyn said, “I think I’ll go swimming again. I need to cool off.”
“His flight out of Madrid was canceled.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what he said.” She stood beside her chair, not willing to sit down until her mother divulged new information. “Did he meet with his stepsister? Did he tell her he wouldn’t sign over the property? Is that what he told you?”
“He asked me for references for lawyers in Las Palmas who spoke English.” The teacup just happened to be at her mother’s lips once again.
“So, he didn’t sign the papers then. Is that it? He’s going to fight to keep the property?”
Her mother raised her eyebrows and said nothing.
Carolyn gave up being frustrated and turned her thoughts to the humor of her mother’s antics. “You are enjoying this way too much, I hope you know.”
“Yes, I know.” Her mother placed her teacup back on the tray, ready to tell all. “All right, I will tell you everything. Bryan has found himself in quite a dilemma. It’s interesting. It will either help him or greatly harm him. Isobel and I had assumed that he signed over his part of the estate to Angelina, and that was why he left the islands. However, he hasn’t yet signed the papers. It makes sense. Since the documents were in Spanish, he told his stepsister he wanted to take them back to the States and have them translated and looked at by an attorney.”
Carolyn took a seat beside her mother on the sofa. “He told you all this?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask you to keep it confidential?”
“He said he trusted my discretion.”
Carolyn felt like making a wisecrack about the way her mother and her aunts had been known to transmit information faster than the Internet. But then she knew that of all the sisters, her mom was the most trustworthy when it came to keeping confidences.
“I asked Bryan if he felt it would be appropriate for me to share with you what he was telling me, and he said he would leave that up to me. He said he felt he could trust both of us.”
“Well, that’s good,” Carolyn said.
“Yes, it’s good that you and I can be his advocates, but what happened to him is not very good.”
“What happened?”
“When Bryan made the decision in Madrid to return, he didn’t let Angelina know that he was coming. He rented a car and drove to his stepmother’s home. It made sense for him to go there, since that is where he had stayed for the past four nights. He used the hidden key to get in, and when he unlocked the door, she was there.”
“Who was there? Angelina?”
“Yes, she was at the house. And she was in bed. With someone. Someone who is not her husband.”
Carolyn leaned back. “Bryan left and checked into a hotel. A few hours later, he called Angelina to tell her that he wanted to settle the estate in a way that would be fair to everyone. She accused him of trying to trick he
r by returning in secret, and then she told him not to bother to tell any of the family about what he saw at the house. She already had alerted the family that he had returned without telling anyone because he was trying to go behind their backs to obtain the entire estate.”
“Why is he the bad guy in all this? Do they all approve of her cheating on her husband?”
“None of the relatives knows. Bryan didn’t tell anyone. He said it was something for his sister to tell her husband.”
“Are you saying he protected her, and she put all the suspicion and accusations on him?”
“It appears that way.”
Carolyn shook her head. “Why?”
“Problems like this are as old as the earth. I gave him some advice.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Every family has an abuela. For him, it is a great aunt. I know her. She is a wise woman. I suggested he tell her what happened and let her determine the next step. His family should not be suspicious of why he returned. Especially when you and I know the real reason he returned.”
“And what is that?”
“He returned for you.”
The comment caught Carolyn off-guard, and she immediately protested.
Her mother left her bold statement out there in the open. She didn’t try to argue with Carolyn, nor did she defend her declaration or state any evidence for her conclusion. She just sat and sipped the remainder of her tea.
“Quien a buen árbol se arrima buena sombra le cobija.”
“Whoever leans close to a good tree is blanketed by good shade.”
BEFORE CAROLYN COULD press her mother about her bold statement regarding Bryan’s coming back for Carolyn, the phone rang. By the tone of her mother’s voice and the way she was talking, Carolyn had a pretty good idea she was talking with Isobel. It was funny the way they interacted with each other on a daily basis, telling each other what to do and finding something new to squabble about.
Canary Island Song Page 13
