“It explains so much about my mother to me. Why she was such a quiet, solemn person.”
“Alejandro buried his friend in a safe place, and lived there most of his life, right next to what he had done. That would have been just as bad.”
“I don’t know what to think of Alejandro Beltrán. He was my real father, and he never wanted me.”
“Different times, Paco. He was confused when he gave you away.”
“What was he like?”
“He looked just like you,” Luna said. She could see the man try and to hold back what that meant to him. His eyes looked damp as he turned his gaze to the view out the window. “He was a surprisingly gentle man. He acted all rough, and brave, a real tough solitary man. But he was, in fact, kind and warm. He tried to hide it, but he couldn’t. He recognised me in an instant, from my grandmother’s looks, and took me in.”
“But he murdered your grandfather and kept it a secret all this time.”
“I wish he hadn’t killed him, of course I do. I wish your mother hadn’t seen that. I wish you hadn’t been there, in the first days of your life, there at that bloody moment. But we can’t change history. None of them could change the outcome of what happened, and neither can we. Luna took you and drove you to Madrid. A young woman, who had never travelled, managed to get you all the way to Madrid and built a life for you. That is brave. It sounds like an impossible task, but she did it.”
“I remember walking the streets with her as a young boy,” Paco said. “I was about ten, and we were wandering past a hotel where foreigners were coming in and out, tourists on holiday. I asked her why they came to Spain, and I remember her having no answer. She said a foreigner cannot understand Spain the way that Spaniards do, and that they had romantic notions of the place. She said there was nothing romantic about the awkward fashions of the day. I remember Mamá, tugging at her ill-fitting jacket when she said it. I know that means nothing, but I remember her pulling her coat, wishing for better lives for us. Black, she always wore black.”
“She’s right. As a foreigner, it is hard to understand Spain. The thing I always notice about Spaniards is that they are never conflicted. They have beliefs, and they will defend them. They all believe that what they know and what they have is the best way to live. No one changes sides in an argument and will fight to the death to defend themselves.”
“That stubbornness has caused many dramas.”
“I like stubborn.” Luna smiled, and Paco returned it.
“When I saw you here that night, with Cayetano, going through my mother’s things… I was rude.”
“We shouldn’t have gone through the chest without your permission.”
“I shouldn’t have hidden her things away. I should have looked at it, and read her diaries. I was being an idiot. You looked for a family amongst it; I have had one most of my life, and I shouldn’t deprive you of that.”
“I found no such thing. Cayetano Ortega merely got a New Zealand nurse pregnant; he isn’t a member of my family. I do imagine him to be a charming man, if not cheeky and a womaniser, but he would have been entertaining. But he isn’t family.”
“He might have been, had he not died. Your father may have gotten to know him, somehow.”
“Maybe. Alexander didn’t suffer without his father. Scarlett was a devoted mother to him. Family consists of whoever we want it be.”
Paco nodded and glanced over his shoulder, to double check everyone was out of earshot. “I met Inés, and I wanted to be with her, and that meant becoming a member of the Morales family. My mother… can I still call Luna that? She wasn’t my biological mother...”
“I would call her that. Alejandro and Sofía produced you, but Luna raised you.”
“My mother was deeply religious, like her mother was, but had the independent anarchist ideals of her father and brother… and, I suppose, Cayetano and Scarlett. She was a torn woman.”
“An exception to the rule.”
“Exactly. But the Morales family… a family of Falangists… so conservative, almost fanatical, religious members of society. Consuela was raised to be a wife and mother, a decent God-fearing woman, submissive to her husband. José, whose father was killed in the early days of fighting against the Republicans in 1936, was, and still is, a strong Franco supporter. Did Cayetano talk to you about that?”
“Yes, he told me that you, he and José had a talk about it. Cayetano said he had no idea that his grandfather worked for Franco.”
“I told José to keep a lid on his political views in front of Cayetano, for his sake. I told him that Cayetano would do better by having no clear political alliance. He can appeal to everyone that way. José may be a murderer, but he does care for Cayetano.”
“These are old ideals that shouldn’t shackle anyone. But I won’t lie, hearing about what José was like once upon a time is scary. ”
“You adjust, I suppose. We aren’t the only family in Spain with this kind of history.”
“I know.”
“I grew up to be like my mother, believe what you like in private, and just blend in. The Morales ideals go in one ear, and out the other.”
“I won’t hold anyone’s ideals against anyone, Paco. I’m a foreigner, I don’t get an opinion.”
“Are you eligible to vote in Spain?”
“No, no yet.”
“Lucky you. But you aren’t a foreigner. You are the product of a Spanish man, and he was the product of the King himself. You can’t get more Spanish than that.”
“That link means nothing as far as I’m concerned. Leandro Medina knows I’m Cayetano Ortega’s granddaughter, and that is enough.”
“Leandro Medina is an upstanding man. Pity María is his daughter. The woman is a bad seed. I tried to like her, I truly did. I wanted her and Caya to work out.”
“I guess I need to do a lot of work to impress you and Inés.”
Paco shook his head and turned around to the face the groups of relatives spread out around the huge room through the doorway into the living room. “Look at Caya,” he said. He gestured towards his son who had reappeared. “The boy has never been happier than he is right now. You did that to him. Inés, she is so pleased to see her son as well as he is, that she will do anything to keep you around. Me, well, I have long wanted a loving woman for my son. I know that I had made a mistake wanting him to marry María. She wasn’t any good for him. I wanted him to have what I have with Inés. Happy wife, happy life. That way, he would have no woman troubles and stop being such a pain in the ass.”
Luna burst out laughing along with Paco as they went back into the living room. “Yeah, I can see that,” she said through her wide smile. “I can imagine Cayetano being a pain in the ass.”
“Show me this ring on your hand again,” Paco said and took her fingers in his. “This shouldn’t be hidden away. I didn’t want to give it to Inés. I wanted to buy her a ring, to prove what a rich man I was. I was young and stupid. Now, I’m old and stupid. This ring belongs to your grandfather, and to you.”
“But given to me, by Cayetano. He got it from his grandmother and that makes it unique.”
“I guess we all got what we wanted, it just took 70 years to feel that way.”
“What’s going on over here?” Cayetano said as he approached the pair. “I hear laughing, that has to be good.”
“It is good; it’s all your expense,” Paco said, and he and Luna laughed again.
“Touching, preciosa,” he said to Luna and slipped an arm around her. “Have I lost you already?”
“She’s a woman, Cayetano,” Paco chastised him. “You can’t control them, never could, never will.”
Luna chuckled as Paco left the pair. “At least Paco doesn’t hate me for all the secrets I have dug up.”
“He discovered who his real father was, and now the guy is dead. He’s hurting, but just won’t admit it.”
“Aren’t we all? This isn’t how it was meant to end. Alejandro murdered Cayetano, and now I have h
is body, and also Sofía’s body, hidden where I want to raise my kids.”
“Leave them there. Let them rest. We have the rest of our own lives to live.”
Luna watched her sons play with two little girls, Cayetano’s cousin Eduardo’s daughters. “I guess the boys would have cousins when we get married.”
“Surrogate cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents, as well as a father… and perhaps brothers and sisters…”
“I mention it once and already you are taking it as gospel. I said I wasn’t ready for more kids.”
“Is there something wrong with wanting to be happy?”
“No. You’re not alone in wanting to be happy.”
“It’s all on your own terms, la chispa. I said I won’t be a replacement for your family, or husband, but something new instead, and I meant it. I will only adopt the boys if you want me to, but I won’t push for it. And we can marry and adjust to a new life in your own time. I can wait, I’m happy.”
“Thank you. I’m ready to marry you, by the way. It also has to be on your terms.”
“Good, because Mamá already asked me about when the wedding will be.”
Luna rolled her eyes with a smile. “Let me guess, they have already picked the date, dress and venue?”
“Yeah… yeah, that’s true.”
“Grandiose wedding in Madrid, early summer time before the three months of hell starts?”
“Of course, no one wants to sweat through a wedding in a Madrid summer. But maybe... you and I can change the plan a little?”
“How?”
“What if you and I, and Giacomo and Enzo, go to Cuenca and get married? Right in the middle of Madrid and Valencia, where the story between our families started? We can marry where the first Luna and Cayetano would have gotten married given the chance, 70 years after they missed out on happiness. Just the four of us.”
“You don’t need to shut everyone out.”
“But I do need to make you happy.”
“I am happy. So happy that I barely recognise myself.”
“I will be glad to take the credit.” When he kissed her, she forgot that she was in a house full of people she didn’t know. They faded into the background.
“Give it a rest,” Cayetano’s cousin Hector called from across the room. “Children are present.”
“They kiss all the time,” Giacomo said from his spot on the floor with a wooden train set.
“It’s true, they do,” Enzo agreed. “And then Cayetano goes all silly.”
Cayetano shook his head while the group laughed at him. “Mock me if you like,” he said over the top of them all. “I’m taking a momentous step forward with my life with Luna, Giacomo and Enzo. It’s a joy to feel so convinced in my belief that I’m on the right path with my life. Our whole family, and even all of Spain, could learn from us. If you shake off the ghosts that weigh you down, extraordinary things can happen. Core values and traditions can be held onto, without needing to hold on to the bitterness that comes with bad or even gruesome experiences. The future doesn’t have to hold worry or fear. No person, no belief, no sickness, no pain can break the bond between Luna and I.”
Luna gave him another kiss. This time no one teased, because he spoke all truthful words and everyone knew it. Here in front of everyone that mattered in Cayetano’s life, Luna couldn’t have felt any more comfort than what he provided. All she had to do was return the favour for a lifetime, which didn’t seem like a big task at all.
45
Valencia, España ~ Febrero de 2010
Escondrijo hadn’t yet been handed over to Luna, and no doubt that would be another long-winded bureaucratic process. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to spend time there, as cold as the snowy winter was up on the mountain.
Luna and Cayetano walked around the property; their boots crunched the latest dusting of snow that covered the surroundings of the masía. The children ran just ahead, which shattered the peace that the place provided. Cayetano was due to fight in the Valencia’s bullring at the end of Las Fallas, the city premier fiesta in March, and time to relax up on the mountain was called for before life became crazy again.
“Preciosa, I don’t want to be negative about Escondrijo...”
“Don’t then,” she said with a smile while they wandered the property together, the kids just ahead of them.
“I mean, this place is a mess. I can’t imagine what you’re going to do with it. It’s steep and rocky, and overgrown.”
“But you have Rebelión, and it’s flat and pristine for breeding animals. This is a totally different environment. I will grow a few things, raise a few goats, and take it easy up here. It’s not a large operation.”
“Then why have all this space?”
“Because I can.”
“Oh, I see, queen of all she surveys.”
“I wish.” The pair stopped; before them was a drop down the rocky mountainside. The kids had dashed off behind them to run around some pines nearby, their giggling echoed back towards their parents. Luna looked out across the enormous view, the flatlands of the Turia that lead to Valencia city in the distance, along with Albufera lake and the glistening Mediterranean.
“What are you thinking about?” Cayetano asked.
“About whether I correctly set up Darren’s seat post torque setting when I tuned his bike for today’s ride.”
“Will he fall off if you didn’t?”
“No.”
“Pity.”
Luna scoffed. “Not particularly nice. I know you and Darren don’t get on, but you will need to learn. Besides, Fabrizio fell off his bike and it killed him, so please don’t wish that.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. Watching you trying to be stabbed by a bull again bothers me. All those months of pain…”
“My leg wasn’t that sore. My pride hurt the most. It felt better when I was in favour with you and in pain when you were gone. Most of the pain was in my head.”
“Most of the bull’s horn was in your thigh.”
“You have watched me practice, you know it’s safe enough.”
“Yeah, I do. I can watch you stand there and satisfy the bloodlust of others.”
“Bullfighting is like dancing the tango. It is a collection of human emotions – passion, love, anger, jealousy, happiness… all illuminated distinctly in the performance.”
“I don’t need the‘I love bullfighting’ speech, Caya. I get it,” she smiled. She turned to check the children, and then focused back on him. “I enjoy watching you practice at Rebelión.”
“I’m telling you… passion, love, anger, jealousy, happiness… you can’t resist me when I’m performing. It builds up a fire of lust and desire in you.”
“Confident much?”
“Hey, I get more women’s underwear given to me per season than I get ears awarded to me.”
“Maybe that says something about your efforts.”
“Are you saying I’m not the greatest fighter in this great land?” He tried to sound offended as he gestured out at Spain laid before them, but she didn’t fall for it. “Are you saying you feel nothing when I’m performing?”
“Oh, I’m hot of you,” she said quietly. “I just keep a lid on it. Besides, if you want my underwear, do my laundry for me.”
“I can think of more fun ways to get them.”
“Well, now you don’t have your cane to walk on. That was hot. But you always impress me.”
“One day, when I’m old, I promise to wander around Escondrijo with a cane, just to get you all worked up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re as bound to Escondrijo as I am.”
Cayetano nodded and looked out over the view again. “I guess I am. Our families rest here in the soil.”
“Your weird grandfather, José, must love that.”
“The man whose job it was to round up ‘enemies of the State?’ He loves he
aring stories about rojos who were killed.”
“That guy makes me uncomfortable. Your father said we would adjust, like he is adjusting to all this, but… I spent all this time wanting to find my grandfather, and in turn exposed something very sickening about your family.”
“I know. Yet I feel compelled to know more about what José did during that part of his life. It’s like watching a train wreck, I can’t help myself.”
“I guess it’s a part of this story that isn’t finished yet. Like my involvement with the Medina family. Do I let that go, or get to know them, María included?”
“There is plenty of time for us to figure all this out. For now, we can worry about happier things. One day, the house will be finished for us to live in, and we can settle here, instead of going back and forward between Valencia and Madrid, if that’s what you want.”
“It is, but only if you agree.”
“I don’t care where I live. I won’t be Spain’s best torero forever, my life is flexible. Plus, I’m not sure I want to be part of the Morales family business anymore.”
“It’s the Beltrán family business, too. Don’t make any hasty decisions. You need to be flexible.”
“Are you going to be flexible? Maybe we could live in Madrid, and just travel out here now and then.”
“I don’t know… I would have to give up work for that. How flexible do you want me to be?”
“I like where this is going! I thought you said only one of your legs over my shoulder at a time in bed… are you suggesting both legs now?”
Luna threw him a look, and he smirked. “I meant a bigger family.”
“Now my interest has peaked.”
“Before or after you imagined me ‘flexible’ one sexual way or another?”
“Are you pregnant?”
“We aren’t married yet.”
“Marriage doesn’t get you pregnant. Nor can a sterile torero.”
“Maybe he can.”
“Really?”
“Maybe. Might be worth checking.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You’re pregnant?”
Secrets of Spain Trilogy Page 42
