by Carmen Amato
Luz was entirely overwhelmed. “Eddo--.”
“But right now.” His voiced cracked as he cut her off. “I’m scared shitless that you expect to get back the same thing you’ve given me. I’m going to disappoint you and you’re going to walk.”
Before Luz could collect her thoughts and say anything, he stood up and quickly slipped on his clothes; briefs, jeans, and the black sweater that fit over his chest like a second skin.
“Looking at this mess all week has probably been killing you,” he said and opened the closet door. He hung all his pants and shirts and sweaters on the hangars. It took him a while; the hangers slid along the rod but did not detach from it. Luz watched silently as Eddo wrestled with the job. She could have done it much more easily and in half the time, but it was something she had to let him do, for his sake as much as for her own.
He left all his clean socks and underwear in the bottom of the duffel, shoved the dirty things into the mesh compartment, and zipped it shut. There was nothing left on the floor except his shoes. He put on one pair and lined up the others next to the duffel. Finally he turned and looked at her, his face inscrutable. “Ready for some breakfast?”
Luz couldn’t stand the tension any longer. She ran across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck. He crushed her to him.
“You could never disappoint me,” Luz said against his chest.
“I worry, Jimena,” he said. “I can be a cold sonuvabitch.”
Luz thought of the silver hairs, the men who’d tried to kill him, and how they’d tried to kill her. She took a step back so she could see his face. “If you couldn’t be that person sometimes, neither one of us would be alive. But that doesn’t mean you have a cold heart. You don’t. I know. I know you.”
To her surprise he made a choking sound and his face crumpled. He pulled her hard against him, burying his face in her hair. She held him as his shoulders shook.
It took a long time but eventually the shaking stopped. Luz felt him relax as she rubbed his back and gently kneaded away the knots.
She knew that he was all right when Eddo kissed her neck. He moved away from her and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand like a little kid. They laughed shakily at each other.
Eddo went into the bathroom and blew his nose. As he came out he shook his head at her. “Do you know the last time I cried?”
“Sunday,” Luz said ruefully.
“No, I mean before I met you and turned into a faucet.” He sat on the end of the bed.
“No, when?” Luz moved over to him and stood between his knees.
Eddo caught up her hands and laced their fingers together. “I was 18. I tried out for Puebla and didn’t make the cut. Punched a cement wall and broke my knuckle.”
“They’re fools in Puebla. Which knuckle?”
“There.” He showed her a small scar.
“So I guess we have to have a rule for you, too. No punching walls.”
Chapter 63
Luz went into the restaurant with one hand through Eddo’s elbow and the other carrying her new leather clutch. Inside was her copy of a probationary contract that said if the four paintings she’d left with Elaine Ralston sold within six months The Ralston Gallery would represent her in both Mexico and the United States. The afternoon had been an experience she’d never forget. Elaine Ralston had treated her like a serious artist and the two women discussed modern art trends and noted contemporary artists while Eddo reviewed the contract.
The restaurant was breathtaking, the perfect place to celebrate. It had once been a colonial mansion, built long ago by a Spanish grandee who had spared no expense. The most prominent feature was a huge vaulted boveda ceiling made of thousands of bricks laid in an arching herringbone pattern. Niches for wine bottles were cut into the plaster below the brick. The supporting wall trusses were solid logs. Luz loved the combination of the antique brick and dark wood against stark white tablecloths and gleaming silver.
“Hey,” said Eddo after they’d been seated. “When you’re famous and your paintings are in the Prado--”
“--And the Guggenheim.”
“And the Guggenheim, will you still make me coffee?”
“I’ll have to,” Luz said. “Otherwise you’re going to poison us both.”
They toasted her success with champagne, a first for Luz. The bubbly drink was wonderfully cold and popped against her tongue. It was like a magic elixir.
“Like it?” Eddo asked.
“I love it.” Luz had never been this happy. Eddo wore a black linen shirt, khaki pants, and an alligator belt. His hazel eyes reflected the flame of the candle on the table. They’d learned so much about each other. The week had been full of moments she could live in forever, but this was the best of all. Let time stop now, Luz thought. Let this be the moment for the rest of my life.
After dinner, they went to a club and danced, their bodies close, kissing when the music was slow. When the band took a break, Luz found the restroom. An elegant lounge area preceded the main bathroom. An old woman in a black uniform dress handed a clean linen towel to each woman who washed her hands.
Luz tipped the attendant 5 pesos, hoping that was enough for such a fancy place and sat in front of a mirror. Her reflection was extremely satisfying. A week of vitamins, expensive cosmetics, mountain air, and raw joy had let her bloom with new life. She wore a burgundy knit wrap dress that made her waist look tiny and her wide shoulders fashionable. She’d protested when Eddo made her try it on in Liverpool but now she was glad he’d insisted. Tall black sandals and a sleek ponytail completed the outfit. The amethyst and turquoise necklace dangled near her cleavage, making her feel very sexy. Besides the contract, the clutch bag held some makeup. She found lipstick and carefully redid her smile.
“Luz de Maria, isn’t it?”
It was Señora Portillo standing behind her and speaking to Luz’s reflection. The woman was as glamorous as ever in a skinny black dress and layers of jewelry.
The shock of seeing someone from Luz’s old life was like a bucket of ice water over her head. Luz stood to face the other woman. “Hello, señora.”
“Selena told me she let you go for . . . an indiscretion,” Señora Portillo said. She raked her eyes over Luz’s outfit. “She never said it was this.”
“I’m sorry?” Luz asked in confusion.
“I saw the man you’re with, Luz. Your . . . relationship . . . is obvious,” Señora Portillo said. “No matter what he’s paying you, it’s not a good life. No good can come of it.”
Her look as she walked out was sad and knowing and superior all at the same time.
“Señora, wait.” Luz threw her lipstick into her clutch and headed for the door. “You don’t understand--.”
“Puta.”
Luz froze, feeling the jab of the word between her shoulder blades. She turned and looked into the bathroom. The attendant was the only person there. As Luz watched, the old woman wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as if she’d just spit.
Chapter 64
Luz didn’t tell Eddo what had happened. But what had she expected? They were in San Miguel to see where things stood between them. At the end of the week things would still be the same. She was an unemployed muchacha with a pregnant sister, a brother, and two nieces to support and he was going to be Attorney General. Someone would always assume that he’d bought her by the hour.
She’d thought the same thing, once upon a time.
Friday morning when he suggested that he teach her to drive she welcomed the distraction. She did so well he let her ease the car onto the street beyond the hotel property. They tooled around the countryside and found the church of the Santuario de Atotonilco. They saw the church’s famous murals, then ate an early dinner in a roadside restaurant.
In the evening they went back to El Jardin. They found a place to sit at a café, ordered dessert and brandy, and watched the ever-changing scene in the plaza.
La Parroquia was lit up. Vendors sold balloons, toys,
and cones of flavored shaved ice. A happy army of children ran around with little balls on a string with shiny streamers that flashed and twirled. El Jardin looked like fairyland.
“I wish you’d let me drive you home tomorrow,” Eddo said.
“No,” Luz said. “It would take us all day and then you’d have a 15 hour drive to Oaxaca.”
“What’s the real reason?”
Luz sighed. “I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do.” It was going to be bad enough explaining what she had done that week without him standing in the living room while Lupe stared at el señor through a stupid face and Juan Pablo got hot about Eddo besmirching a sister’s honor. But more than that, she didn’t want him to see just how poor the house was, didn’t want his car dismantled on the street outside, didn’t want the neighbors talking, didn’t want this night to end.
“Then we’ll meet Tomás and the security service in Mexico City and they’ll drive you home.”
Luz stared miserably at the children running across the plaza. “Thank you.”
“Look.” Eddo held out a small nosegay of dark purple violets tied with a white ribbon. An old woman with a basket of bouquets pocketed coins and moved on.
“Oh.” Luz put out a finger and touched one of the tiny dark petals. “They’re lovely.”
“I didn’t know I could love anyone as much as I love you.” Eddo laid the violets on the table in front of her. “Will you marry me, Jimena?”
Luz blinked. “We can’t talk about this now.”
“Why not?”
“There are too many people here.”
Eddo looked around at the crowded plaza and grinned. “Fine. Let them all know,” he said. “I love you. Let’s get married. Right here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Luz hissed, suddenly irritated that he’d put her in such an awkward position. Discussing a sheer impossibility in such a public place.
Eddo flinched as if she’d slapped him. He paid the bill and stood up.
They walked up the hill without speaking. Luz put the violets into a mug of water in the kitchen. She tried to think of what to say, how to make him see the absurdity of what he’d asked.
She went into the living room. Before she could say anything Eddo shrugged on his coat.
“Go to bed, Luz,” he said. “I’m going to take a walk.”
He still wasn’t back by the time Luz finished crying and fell asleep.
Chapter 65
Luz woke to the sound of a slamming door.
She lurched out of the bed only to sag with relief when she saw Eddo’s suitcase on the floor, his shoes still in the tidy row from Thursday morning.
The mug of violets was on the bedside table. The room was chilly. A door slammed again.
Luz hurriedly threw on a tee shirt, yoga pants, and a sweater, then walked through the house. The view from the living room window made her pause.
On the porch, Eddo sat in the big rocking chair from the living room. As she watched, he pulled off a sweaty sweatshirt and a tee and dropped both on the floor of the porch next to a dusty soccer ball. Steam rose from his skin. He tipped up a bottle of water and drank down half in one swallow.
Luz stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind her. The cement was cold under her bare feet.
“Been up long?” she asked.
“Awhile.” Eddo drank the rest of the water.
“Did you sleep at all?” She folded her arms and shivered in the thin morning air.
“No.”
He leaned back and started to rock. The chair creaked rhythmically.
Luz walked to the other side of the porch and perched on the railing. She stared at La Parroquia. The sunrise bathed the Gothic spires in pale pink light.
“I love you so much it hurts,” she said.
The rocking chair stopped creaking.
“We were in Santa Fe and you asked me to draw the band,” Luz went on. “People came to look and it scared me. You touched me right here.” She touched the back of her neck. “And I loved you.”
“Jimena--.”
Suddenly Eddo was right there, his arms around her.
“I love you.” Between kisses Luz said it over and over against his mouth.
He pulled away and before Luz knew what was happening she was in the rocking chair and Eddo was on one knee in front of her.
“Okay, Luz. Last night there were too many people around.” He took hold of both her hands. “And maybe I should be doing this on some beach with a diamond ring but we’re not there and I don’t want to wait. Will you marry me, Luz? Tell me yes.”
“I love you,” Luz said. She took a deep breath. “Enough not to let you ruin your career and scandalize your family by bringing home some muchacha.”
“You’re an artist, now, Luz. You just signed a contract with a gallery.”
Luz shook her head and pulled back her hands. “Your career would be over and one day you’d hate me for it. ‘He married beneath him,’ they’ll say. And laugh. ‘Some puta from the barrio.’ At home I’ll be the girl who didn’t know her place. ‘Thought she was too good to stay where she belonged.’ I’ll have nowhere to go afterwards.”
“This is garbage,” Eddo exclaimed. “There’s not going to be any afterwards.”
“Dios mio, Eddo. Your family owns half of Puebla. And you drag in some muchacha? Do you think they’ll want me to add ‘de Cortez’ to my name? Your parents will spin in their graves.”
“Okay. Okay.” Eddo flopped onto the cold concrete and pretended to think. “So if all my friends and all my family and everybody I work with get together and say it’s okay, you’ll marry me?”
“Stop joking,” Luz admonished. “You need someone appropriate to be the wife of an Attorney General. With a background that will help you. Not some muchacha who won’t know the right thing to do and ruin everything.”
“Luz!” Eddo jumped up, his fútbol cleats clacking against the porch floor. “You don’t marry someone because they’re appropriate for you. If marriage was just that I’d be stuck with the idiota who bought me shampoo because she knew me so fucking well and you’d be married to the good provider your mother picked out.” Luz opened her mouth but he went on, leaning over the chair like a goalie waiting for the penalty shot. “And we’d both be ready to kill ourselves. You get married to somebody because together you can do things you couldn’t without them. Because together you make each other’s dreams come true.”
“I’d ruin your dreams,” Luz said.
“My dreams need your strength,” he shot back.
“Stop it, Eddo.” Suddenly Luz couldn’t catch her breath. He had an answer for everything, answers she’d never heard before. She stood up abruptly and the rocker slammed into the doorway. Eddo jerked back in surprise.
Luz twisted around him and bolted off the porch. She ran stumbling across the rutted drive and cold grass and dirt road. Her heart pounded, tears blinded her. Stones and dirt bit her bare feet.
Eddo caught up with her halfway across the field, fast and surefooted in his cleats. He grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“What did you think was going to happen, Luz?” he shouted. “Did you think we’d both just walk away?”
“You were never mine to keep,” Luz cried. She snatched her arm out of his grasp and dug a grape-sized piece of milky white quartz out of the ground. She held it out to him. “It’s as if someone gave me the most precious jewel I’d ever seen and said I could hold it for just a little while. But today’s the day I have to give it back.”
“Is that what you want, Luz?” Eddo closed her fingers around the stone. “To give it back?”
“It’s not about what I want.” Luz shook her head. “It’s what I’m allowed to have.”
“You can just let me go?”
“It’s so hard.” Luz started to cry.
“Then marry me,” Eddo said, stepping closer. “Don’t open your hand. I’ll hold onto you and you’ll hold onto me. We’ll make all our dreams
come true together.”
Luz fought for control through her fear and confusion. “I don’t know.”
“Luz, listen.” Eddo put his arms around her. “I know this happened fast. Just don’t say no. Say you’ll think about it.”
Luz rested her head against his bare chest and drew a shaky breath, the stone still clenched in her fist. “Give me some time,” she gulped. “Until after Juan Pablo graduates.”
'
They were quiet in the car going back to Mexico City.
“Whatever happens,” Luz blurted when they were halfway there. “Don’t ever get me a diamond engagement ring. It would remind me too much of Lorena.”
Eddo didn’t reply. Luz fiddled with her new cell phone, which apparently did everything except cook, but kept going back to the countdown feature. Eddo had marked the Saturday after Juan Pablo’s graduation.
It was 63 days until MEET EDDO.
Chapter 66
Mexico City looked a lot better than it had a week ago. The security service was the best and Luz promised to text him as soon as she got home. Eddo was tired but optimistic by the time he arrived at the house in San Angel. It was still the warm, inviting space that had so often depressed him, full of Ana and Tomas and their relationship, but this time the atmosphere was like a tonic.
After Eddo, Tomás, and Vasco had eaten every last bite of dinner and complimented Ana, she kissed her husband and said she’d be back downstairs after the cigar smoke cleared.
As Tomás got out the Cohibas, Vasco brought them up to date. The Panamanian authorities had been fast and efficient but their records were sparse. Vasco had taken what they had and dug further, checking out maritime tracking companies and insurers.
“It’s called Sheba,” he said and passed around a color photo of a yacht. Registered in Panama, it had gone through the Panama Canal the day after Luz got snatched and had taken on supplies at the Amador marina the day Eddo and Tomás were there. “The owner of record is one of the names we found connected to Montopa. I got the picture off the website of a maritime broker.”
