by Mills, Lisa
The living room sat empty, leaving Manuel to wonder where she could have gone. Since he’d looked in every room of the house, he decided to continue his search outdoors. He let himself out the front door and found her standing a short distance away. She leaned against a split-rail fence on the other side of the gravel driveway, facing the neatly spaced rows of avocado trees. The wind toyed with the hem of her skirt, causing it to flutter around her knees. The movement drew his attention to her shapely calves, and he studied their smooth, firm lines. His reaction unsettled him, and hoping to avoid further temptation, he forced his gaze to her face.
Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked, but if she heard his approach, she didn’t acknowledge him.
“Hey, Isabel. Do you have a minute?”
She blinked a few times and glanced his direction. The afternoon sun warmed her features and outlined her full lips when she offered him a faint smile.
“Want to go for a walk with me?” She gestured toward the aisles of the grove. “It’s been years since I’ve explored the orchards.”
He moved to her side, resting his elbows on the rail as he studied the trees. The gnarled trunks branched out and mushroomed into full, leafy treetops that met their counterparts to either side, creating arched canopies of shade. “Looks inviting.”
“Come on then.” She stepped between the rails and bent to maneuver her upper body through to the other side. Manuel followed, his broad shoulders and heavier frame not fitting between the rails as easily as hers.
As they started down the lane of trees, Isabel scanned the area. The forlorn look on her face caused Manuel to wonder if she was searching for her lost happiness.
“You okay, Isabel?”
“I came to Venezuela a few times with my parents in my youth. This country, this place, seemed so magical back then. I was certain I could be happy here.”
“You’re not happy?”
She sighed, a sound that seemed to testify to the deep weariness in her soul. “I’ve never been happy anywhere.” She stopped and leaned against the trunk of a tree, the rugged background enhancing her soft beauty.
Manuel draped his hand over a low branch and waited.
“My dad is a professor. That’s how he met my mom. He came to Venezuela to teach English for a year at Central University. They met and fell in love. But a cross-cultural marriage isn’t without its difficulties. His teaching contract ended, and he needed to live where he could find steady work. They ended up in the Northwest. He taught at a junior college for a while then moved into a position at a larger private college after he’d established himself in the field. We lived in a conservative, white neighborhood, and I attended a private school. I can’t begin to tell you how difficult that was for me.”
“Private school was difficult?”
She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “My cultural differences were so exaggerated in that setting. My skin was darker than anyone else’s, and I talked with a slight accent because we spoke primarily Spanish at home. My mother used to pack arepas and foods the other kids couldn’t even pronounce in my lunch sack. Some of the students found me interesting—in the same way a science project is interesting. For a while I thought I could make friends, but in the end they kept me at a distance. I never fit in there, and I don’t really fit in here either. Maybe that’s why I grew so attached to Raúl. He never made me feel different. Only cherished and accepted.”
Color stained her cheeks when she glanced at him. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I guess it’s part of the pity party I’m throwing for myself. Sorry, I’m not good company.” She pushed away from the tree and continued down the path.
As he watched her go, shoulders drooping and steps sluggish, something inside prodded him to try and cheer her. He jogged to catch up. “Nothing wrong with talking about your feelings to a friend.”
“Yes, but I’m not talking. I’m whining and moping. I’m mature enough to realize that fact, just not mature enough to quit.”
He chuckled. “Would it make you feel better if I whined to you about my parents and my childhood?”
She stopped and faced him, her hands on her hips. “You mean you have parents? You were such a grumpy bear the first few times we met, I was certain you’d simply crawled out of a cave somewhere.” Her lips twitched, breaking the stern look she tried to maintain.
He grinned. “I prefer you being ornery over whiney. At least it’s a change.”
She playfully swatted at his sleeve. “Okay, tell me about your parents.”
They resumed their stroll, walking elbow-to-elbow, their arms occasionally brushing together in comfortable companionship. “My father was a simple man, a farmer who inherited a small piece of land from his father. He worked long, hard hours in the field and never really reaped much for his labor. He told me once that, as a boy, he’d dreamed of becoming an architect, but his parents didn’t have money for schooling. He settled for farming the land instead.
“My father made sure I went to college. I know he wanted to give me the opportunity he never had. When Dad died a few years ago, he seemed ancient. All those years of struggling to earn a living from the land wore him down, made him old before his time.” Manuel paused, feeling regret spring up with fresh energy. “I wish I could have made something of myself before he passed, showed him what his sacrifice meant to me.”
Isabel studied him with her intense blue gaze. “What about your mother?”
“She’s still on the farm. In fact, she’s asked me to come home and run it for her. She can’t seem to find a decent foreman, and the place is sinking deeper and deeper into debt.” His fingers curled into fists as he battled the argument that raged inside him. “I don’t think I’d survive it, Isabel. To me, it would seem like a slow death. A part of me would rot away each day. I’m not made for long-term attachments, not to people or places. The boredom of facing the same scenery and the same tasks day after day would drive me insane. I could hardly bear teaching for a few semesters. Facing a lifetime of drudgery would kill me.
“My father understood that feeling, suffered that exact fate. But he did what life required of him, and now my mother needs that same sacrifice from me. I have to choose between my dreams and my family responsibilities. The choice should be simple, but it’s not. Maybe I’m selfish, but I don’t want to let go of my career, pitiful as it is.”
When he looked down at Isabel, the compassionate expression on her face made him uncomfortable. “So there you have it,” he quipped, covering his emotion with sarcasm. “My contribution to our pity party.”
The corners of Isabel’s lips twitched. “You win. Your sordid history beats mine by a mile.”
“A mile? Don’t you mean a kilometer? We use metrics here.” The attempt at levity fell flat.
She sobered. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to share your story with me.”
He stared at the ground, shuffling his feet, kicking up little clouds of dirt. “Think we can talk about something else now?”
They’d reached the edge of the orchard, and Isabel stepped in front of him. “Look over there. See that river in the distance? That’s one of the boundaries of the property, and the other is the crest of that far hill.”
He stood behind her, trying to follow the direction of her hand as she pointed out the boundaries of the hacienda, but a more inviting sight caught his gaze. She’d fastened her hair up in a clip, leaving the silky skin of her shoulders and neck invitingly bare. Manuel felt his thoughts slipping again, drawn by the feelings of attraction that pulled at him. Before he succumbed to the urge to plant a kiss on the delicate arch of her neck, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
“Isabel, we need to talk about the project.”
Her sculpted eyebrows lifted in question. “Okay. What’s up?”
“As much as I want to continue the work we’ve started, I can’t impose on your grandmother’s hospitality any longer.”
“But we
’re nearly finished with the translation. Why give up now?”
“Because I assume we’ve lost our sponsor.”
When her mouth dropped open, he knew she’d not considered the ramifications of her break with Raúl. She lifted her hands to her cheeks and moaned. “Oh no. I didn’t even think about the project, Manuel. I was so hurt and angry … and you counted on his support. I did too.”
She turned away and began to pace. Manuel waited while she wrestled with her issues, not daring to voice his opinion lest he reveal his desperation.
“Maybe we can still work together.” Her finger pressed against her bottom lip as she thought aloud. “I’m mature enough to maintain a working relationship with him despite what happened. He saw this project as a business investment, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t agree to continue as planned.”
She pinned Manuel with a penetrating stare. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll agree to proceed if everyone else does, but I need a firm decision soon. My mother….”
She laid a hand on his arm, her gentle touch setting his nerve endings afire. “Don’t give up on your dream yet, Manuel. If your mother’s farm can hold out a few more months, we may be able to solve her problems and yours for good. I’ll call Raúl tomorrow.” Her smile looked confident and reassuring.
He returned her smile with one of his own, deciding that bearing his soul to her hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Sympathy could serve as a powerful motivation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Isabel cradled the phone in her hands, trying to summon the courage to dial the number. The prospect of talking to Raúl terrified her, not because of the pain and hurt he had caused her, but because on some level she feared she still loved him and worried she would succumb to his deceptive charm. Even knowing what he’d done, she couldn’t stop her heart from beating erratically at the thought of him. But did she love him, or did she simply need to feel she belonged somewhere and to someone?
Isabel tried to remember the exact emotions she felt when she found him with another woman. As she rolled the memories around in her mind, she realized she was not as upset about his unfaithfulness as she was about what she would lose as a result. She’d depended on him to meet a deep emotional need, and he’d failed her. In the midst of her self-pity, a niggling voice told her she bore part of the blame for misplacing her trust and trying to draw strength and satisfaction from the wrong source.
“I know, Lord. I should depend on You for these things, but I haven’t figured out how to do that yet. My head and my heart are in conflict. Please, change my heart, God, because I don’t know where to start.”
Squaring her shoulders, she picked up the phone and dialed Raúl’s work number. “Raúl Guerrero, por favor.”
Raúl picked up the extension and plunged into an apology before she could say a word. “Isabel, mi amor, I am so glad you called me. Before you say anything, I must beg your forgiveness for my lapse in judgment. I have spent much time considering your words, and I realize I have wronged you. Can you forgive me?”
Isabel bit her trembling lip and swallowed down the emotions lodged in her throat. He always knew just the words to touch her heart. His ability to play on her emotions had caused her trouble before. This time she would proceed with more caution.
“I forgive you, Raúl, but you have to understand, I can’t forget. What you did hurt me deeply.”
His disappointed sigh carried through the phone line. “And I will regret causing you pain until the day I die. Tell me how to repair the damage I’ve done. I cannot bear the thought of spending a lifetime apart from you, Isabel. You are the only woman I’ve ever really loved.”
At that moment, Isabel felt grateful for the miles of distance between them. He sounded so sincere, so bereft, that she might have been tempted to dismiss the whole matter in order to regain the blissful perfection of their earlier relationship. But deep down she knew they could never go back.
“What happened between us changed my feelings. I won’t subject myself to the pain of living with an unfaithful man. I want love, and true love comes with trust and loyalty and commitment. I don’t want to spend my life wondering and worrying if you’re romancing other women. I don’t want to end up bitter and angry like your mother.”
“My mother has nothing to do with us!” His earlier penitence evaporated, replaced by anger.
“Raúl, whenever a man cheats on a woman or vice versa, someone ends up suffering the way your mother did all those years. Those stolen moments of secret passion are never worth the final price. In the end someone always pays, usually with a piece of their heart, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”
A long silence followed her statement, and she wondered if anything she said had had an influence on him.
When he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice sounded carefully controlled. “You have given me much to think about, Isabel. In my country, men are judged by their machismo. We are expected to have relationships with multiple women. I never considered that my way of life would disturb you. I will reconsider.”
His statements forced Isabel to recognize the vast differences between them. For all his claims to a belief in and respect for God, he appeared completely ignorant of godly principles and values. Yet Isabel couldn’t place the blame solely at his feet. She’d chosen to involve herself with a man before ensuring his beliefs matched her own or before she’d really prayed about the decision. She had suffered for her arrogance. “I’m glad, Raúl. I truly believe there’s a better way to live, and I hope you’ll experience that someday.”
“So what happens now, Isabel? Will I see you again?”
His question reminded her of the reason for her call. “I think that depends on you. Our romantic days are over, but we had a business arrangement too. I’m willing to continue working with you on the journal project if you’re still willing to sponsor Manuel and I.”
“Of course. I would not consider backing out for even a moment. I believe you have a good chance of finding the pearls, and I want to help. In fact, I’d like to hear a progress report. Could I come out to the hacienda and talk with you?”
Isabel recognized bait when she saw it, and she refused to fall into his trap. “Manuel and I would be happy to update you.” She stressed Manuel’s name, hoping Raúl would realize she had no intention of spending time alone with him. Keeping her heart under control would be hard enough without fending off his romantic overtures. She knew all too well how persuasive he could be.
“Manuel. Yes.” Raúl didn’t sound too happy. “When would you like to meet?”
“How about next week? We should have the journal fully translated by then, and we can base any plans we make on all the information available.”
“Very good. I’ll call you next week to set up a definite day and time.”
With business finished, all that remained unsaid was goodbye. Isabel felt the significance of this farewell. More than just the end of a conversation, it represented the official close of her relationship with Raúl. From this moment forward, they would share no interests beyond business.
Drawing a deep breath, she summoned the courage to sever their ties. “Well, you probably need to get back to work.”
“Yes, I suppose.” He sounded as reluctant as she felt.
“Goodbye, Raúl.” The finality of the words settled deep into her heart.
“Goodbye, mi amor.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Raúl set the phone in its cradle and smiled. Women. He knew how to persuade them, to charm them, to control them. Isabel would present a challenge, but a worthwhile one. While he listened to her protests, he’d also heard the longing in her voice. She wanted him to woo her back. Why else would she insist on continuing the project with him? She couldn’t bring herself to break away completely.
He would play the role she’d handed him, and in the end, he would win back her heart. And the victory would be sweet.
Eight
Isabel entered the kitc
hen, feeling as fresh as the sunshine that had poured through her window while she’d dressed. “Morning, all.” She flashed a brilliant smile to Manuel, Maria, and her grandmother.
Manuel glanced up from his food and gave her a questioning look. “You look nice.” He scooted his chair over to make room for her at the table. “Special occasion?”
She glanced down at the cream-colored capris and soft coral t-shirt she’d put on that morning. “No. I woke up in a good mood and felt like dressing to match.”
“I don’t know how you ladies do it.” Manuel shook his head in mock pity. “You have to match your clothes, shoes, purses, makeup, and now you tell me you have to match your mood too? I’d never get it right.”
Isabel nudged him with her elbow as Maria set a plate in front of her. “You know what I mean, you … you man.”
His smile sent a wave of anticipation through her. Had he always been so adorable and fun? Isabel opened her breakfast arepa and breathed in the delicious aroma. “Mmm. Ham and cheese. My favorite.” She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer.
“What are you young people planning to do today?” her grandmother asked as Isabel lifted the food to her mouth.
Isabel nodded to Manuel, signaling him to answer since her mouth was full.
“I thought I’d spend most of the day working. We need to finish the translating soon. Though I enjoy Maria’s cooking, I can’t stay here forever. I have other obligations to consider.”
Maria, who stood at the counter kneading a fresh batch of dough, tossed a coy smile over her shoulder. The flirtatious behavior didn’t escape Isabel’s notice, and she felt a rise of irritation. Maria’s at least ten years older than Manuel. Would he even be interested in her?
She turned to study him, as if seeing him for the first time. Manuel’s eyes were the deep, rich brown of the fresh-tilled soil on her grandmother’s land. In contrast to Raúl’s finely sculpted features, Manuel appeared more rugged and durable—handsome in his own way. He kept his black hair cropped short, and he’d recently grown a short, thin mustache. Isabel liked the new addition to his face, thinking it made him look more masculine, if that was possible.
