A Love for Rebecca

by Uceda, Mayte

  Rebecca wished she’d been more like her sister, but over time she’d come to understand that everyone was different, and it wasn’t worth wishing you were someone else. Over the last few years, Rebecca had increasingly felt as if the world were moving on a different course than she was, as if she could view the Earth from another planet and see other people’s lives speed by while hers was stuck in time. Some people tried to preserve the past; others let go of it. She held on to it so tightly that she thought she might get trapped in a parallel dimension where the lines would never cross.

  Sofi’s birth had lessened the feeling. She had often wondered what might have become of her without Sofia. Her daughter’s company kept her feet on the ground, even if it was only on tiptoe.

  Rebecca couldn’t have imagined a better name for her. She had named her daughter Sofía in honor of her distant redheaded friend, Kenzie’s lovely sister. She had so much to thank Sophie for. If she hadn’t met her that summer, she would never have experienced true love.

  Rebecca laughed at herself. She spent so much time in the past, her memories had a life of their own. To be honest, her marriage to Mario hadn’t been the hell she’d expected. There had even been a time when she thought she might love him. But she could never sustain the feeling for long and attributed it to a trick her subconscious used to alleviate the void she felt at her core.

  She decided to cool off in the water and swam out to an unoccupied area where she floated on her back. She loved the sense of weightless freedom the water provided, how it gently rocked her body and soothed her troubled spirit. She closed her eyes. Christmas three years ago came to mind, when Lola—spurred on by a couple of bottles of Spanish cava—told them in fits and starts that Kenzie had gotten married. She remembered every one of the feelings the news had produced in her. And although she had no right to be hurt, she was devastated. She knew then that she had lost him forever. Perhaps she’d clung to hope before that, thinking fate might yet reunite them. That cherished hope had made her days more manageable.

  For a year she tried to imagine what the woman who’d managed to win Kenzie’s love was like. She obsessed about it more than she admitted even to herself, picturing one type of woman after another. By the following Christmas, she was determined to satisfy her curiosity. She had begged Lola, saying that if she was truly still her friend, she would tell Rebecca what Kenzie’s wife was like. Not knowing was eating her up and wouldn’t allow her to heal. Lola resisted at first, telling her it would only make matters worse. Rebecca insisted to the point that Lola relented. But Lola didn’t describe her; she didn’t need to. She merely said her name.

  “He married Mary.” She said it softly, knowing the impact her words would have.

  And she was right. The revelation stunned Rebecca. She called Lola a liar, said it couldn’t be true, that Kenzie would never have married her. Lola was wrong! It had to be someone who only looked like Mary.

  Acceptance came slowly. But far from healing her wound, it opened it again, and a deep sense of dejection began to fester, leading her to the very edge of a serious depression. She hardly slept at night, and during the day she looked like a sleepwalker. Only Sofi appeased her anguish. At Rebecca’s school, they suggested she take a leave of absence. Instead, Rebecca threw herself into her work, knowing inactivity would unmoor her even more. She had to remind herself that her infant child depended on her emotional stability; she couldn’t allow herself to be carried away by melancholy.

  Six years earlier, just before that fateful trip to Scotland, she had imagined forming a life with Mario. They would have two or three children, and she would be a faithful and understanding wife who enjoyed caring for her family. They would live in a good neighborhood, and she would have a job as a teacher. It was all perfect, neatly packaged and tied with a pretty bow. Perfect, until her path crossed Kenzie MacLeod’s and she saw that her girlish notions of a life with Mario were just that.

  Rebecca noticed a school of fish swimming past her. She stretched out a hand to touch them. They darted out of reach and continued on their way. I wish I could keep moving forward like they do, she thought. But where to? She didn’t see the path before her, and her destination was unclear. She’d taken a detour on the back roads of the Scottish Highlands and lost her way among clouds and moors, good whisky and Celtic music. And a love like nothing she had ever known. She had touched the dream—then seen it slip through her fingers.

  That same afternoon, an unprecedented meeting took place in the offices of Caralt & Bassols. Mario came home late, and Rebecca was getting ready for bed when he came in. She was used to his mood swings when it came to work, so she didn’t ask him anything. Their lives ran on separate tracks; their only topics of conversation were household matters and Sofía.

  She saw him loosen his tie and undo the buttons of his shirt. It had been some time since she’d looked at him in any detail. He was about to turn forty, and his hair was thinning, his belly expanding. He was turning into his father, but without the latter’s distinguished looks.

  Something different in him prompted her to ask if anything was wrong.

  “Your father threatened to leave the firm if Enric isn’t made partner,” he said as he yanked off his shoes.

  “Did you think he would be an associate his whole life?”

  “His image isn’t good for the firm.”

  “Don’t be so high and mighty. No one cares about a lawyer’s sexual orientation.”

  “Clients from the Persian Gulf do.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Mario. I know you finished your business with the men from Qatar a long time ago. Enric has just as much right to be made partner as you did. And honestly, he’s put up with it far too long.”

  “There are new negotiations in the works.”

  “You’ve been working on those negotiations for four years and haven’t gotten anywhere.”

  “I will close the deal, as long as I don’t have a fag for a partner. They won’t trust a homo.”

  She glared at him with disgust. He held her gaze for a moment before shutting himself in the bathroom to shower.

  The next day Rebecca went to her parents’ house for lunch. Mario wasn’t there, but everyone else was, including Pablo. Five years ago Enric had gotten up the courage to introduce Pablo to his mother. Elvira had been so stiff and standoffish that Enric had to beg Pablo to come back. In time, the relationship grew less strained, although she hardly spoke to Pablo beyond an insincere greeting. It was plainly understood that Elvira Brañanova would rather her son be alone than accompanied by another man.

  In the middle of the meal, taking advantage of a moment of silence, Rebecca spoke. She did so softly, as if she were thinking out loud. “I’m leaving Mario.”

  Her mother almost choked on her food, and her father froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

  “Are all of you mad?” exclaimed Elvira. “First my husband and son leave the firm, and now this.”

  Rebecca looked at her father. “When did this happen?”

  “Enric and I have decided to open our own law firm, and Pablo will be joining us.”

  Rebecca turned to look at her brother and saw a twinkle in his eye. Next to him, Pablo calmly continued eating. “That’s wonderful news, Daddy! Congratulations!”

  She kept it to herself, but the irony was not lost on her. She had sacrificed her happiness with Kenzie to protect her family’s interests. Now it had all been undone. And the ruinous misfortune her mother had claimed would destroy them in just these circumstances was nowhere in evidence. At most, it would be a momentary setback. Rebecca’s father had enough resources to start his own firm and move on.

  A slow and burning flush crept over her face. She had sacrificed Kenzie and their love for nothing. She turned to her mother, intending to unleash the anger that was building in her.

  But she refrained. Her mother was visibly distraught, unab
le to hold back her tears. Instead of yelling “Was it worth it, Mother? Was it really worth it?” Rebecca said nothing. She looked at Sofi, and the answer came to her clearly: It was worth it for her.

  Her father’s voice brought her back to the moment. “Sweetheart, just because the firm is dissolving doesn’t mean you have to end your marriage.

  Rebecca felt the tears fighting to get out, but she held them back, a knot forming in her chest. “We have nothing in common,” she murmured.

  “You have a daughter,” her mother objected.

  “I cannot bear to be with him,” she whispered between clenched teeth, aiming her voice at her mother so Sofi wouldn’t hear.

  Elvira kept quiet. There was no mistaking her daughter’s determination, and she didn’t want to make it worse.

  “You’re the only one who can make that decision,” her father said. “You know you have a home here. But you should consider it carefully. We will love and support you either way. If in the end you are certain, the first thing you need to do is file a petition for divorce with the court; that will prevent custody issues with Sofi.”

  “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll remember that.”

  “And the sooner you do it, the better,” Enric pointed out. “Don’t give Mario time to work up a plan that would treat you unfairly. We already know he’s got his own legal resources.”

  “Enric, please!” his mother exclaimed. “You act as if you want to go running to court right now.”

  “Now that you mention it, I can’t deny it.”

  Rebecca gave Enric an appreciative smile. She knew she was blessed with a good brother in him.

  “Marriage is a sacred bond. You should take some time to think about it,” Elvira said.

  Víctor banged his fist on the table, startling Sofi. “Excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite,” he said as he rose and left the room.

  Rebecca followed him. She caught up with him in the garden behind the house. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

  He put an arm around her shoulders, and they walked together.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m the one who should apologize. I’ve spent years immersed in work, not knowing what was going on with you. With Enric it’s different; we work together and get to talk frequently. But you . . .” He breathed deeply. “For two years I’ve thought things weren’t going well in your marriage, but your mother always said it was nothing, and I allowed her to convince me. Maybe because I didn’t want to believe it. A few months ago, I insisted again and told her I would talk to you if she wouldn’t. Then she told me something . . .”

  “What did she tell you?” asked Rebecca nervously.

  “It’s hard for me to talk to you about this . . .” He paused to take a breath. “She told me that before you got married, you had an affair with another man, in Scotland, and that Mario knew. She said your marriage problems were because you broke Mario’s trust and now you were suffering the consequences. I didn’t want to believe it, but I stopped insisting she talk to you. The truth is, I was afraid she was right.”

  Rebecca stopped in front of her father, full of guilt and sorrow. “What she told you is true, Daddy.”

  He looked at the ground.

  “But I can’t be sorry for what I did, because I fell in love in a way I never thought possible.”

  “Then why did you marry Mario?”

  “He threatened to throw you out of the firm if I left him.”

  He saw that she was trying to hold back tears, and he embraced her. “You should have told me.”

  “I was scared.”

  “We could have fixed it, sweetheart. There’s a solution for everything in life, except death.”

  “No, Daddy,” she sobbed. “Some things can never be fixed. I’ve lost him forever.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what’s happened and even sorrier I wasn’t able to see it.”

  When she went to the kitchen for a glass of water, Rebecca found a tearful Baudelia.

  “Oh, child, is it true you’re leaving Mr. Mario? I’m sorry I was listening in. And even though I’m so sad for little Sofi, I have to say I’m happy for you.”

  “It’s OK, Baudelia.”

  Baudelia quickly went to the corner of the kitchen and got her purse from the hook where it was hanging. Returning to Rebecca, she held out a set of keys.

  “These are to a small apartment I have in the city. It’s tiny and nothing fancy, but if you need a little time for just you and the little one, you can take them. You take all the time you need.”

  Rebecca accepted Baudelia’s offer. She didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to under the same roof as Mario, and she still wasn’t comfortable living in her mother’s house. She’d have time to look for a nice place for Sofi and herself when the initial dust had settled.

  She gave Baudelia a kiss and put the keys in her pants pocket. Then she went back out to the garden.

  Inés and Sofi were beating the heat with a dip in the pool, while Enric and Pablo laughed at the girls’ antics. Elvira had retired to her bedroom, where, Rebecca supposed, Víctor was trying to talk some sense into her.

  Rebecca went over to her brother. “How did it happen? The thing with the firm.”

  “There was a ‘drag along’ clause in the partnership agreement.”

  “A what clause?”

  “To put it simply,” Pablo explained, “it means that if one founding partner leaves, everyone leaves, and the partnership is dissolved.”

  “That’s why Mario was so agitated last night.”

  “I’m so glad you’re finally leaving that jerk,” Enric said.

  Rebecca hugged her brother and smiled wryly.

  TAKING STOCK

  That summer proved special for Rebecca. Finally, her life was moving forward. Since she’d spoken with her father, years of frustration had melted away. She felt renewed, inside and out. Rebecca more fully acknowledged the seriousness of her depression now that she was climbing out of it. Her steps, at times, were still small and uncertain, but her confidence was growing daily.

  What pleased her most was finding time to spend with her friends again. With an excitement she hadn’t felt for a long time, she made a reservation for a short stay in a big vacation house in Arbúcies, near Montseny Natural Park. It would be the perfect location for a reunion with her old friends.

  They were memorable days. Berta’s twins had just learned to walk. Like tiny tornadoes always in motion, they had the innate need to explore, requiring constant attention. Fortunately, Inés had come along and was happy to entertain the twins. And Sofi was thrilled with them, because for once she wasn’t the youngest in the group.

  Leaving a cell phone with Inés, the three friends took advantage of every moment the children were napping to stroll through the village together. It was a lovely place. As they walked along a tree-lined avenue in the intense heat, Lola alone scorned the shaded portion of the sidewalk, preferring instead the harsh rays, like a lizard in the sun.

  “It feels so good,” she said, turning her face upward.

  “Lola, it’s a hundred degrees in the shade,” Rebecca warned. “You’re going to get a sunburn.”

  “It’s just for a minute. Besides, I put sunblock on as thick as butter—they would have to be very determined rays to get past it.”

  “How are things going in Edinburgh?” Berta asked. “Do you miss Barcelona?”

  Lola inhaled deeply. “I always knew I’d leave Barcelona, but I’m not sure Scotland’s where I’ll settle either.”

  Rebecca looked at her curiously while trying to remain under the shade of the trees. “Really?”

  “Edinburgh’s small, and my jobs are too. I’ve sent my résumé to newspapers in other countries.”

  “And if they offer you a job?” Berta asked.

  “I’ll spread my wings and fly.” She stretched her a
rms out to demonstrate.

  “You’re kidding,” said Rebecca. “What about Rory?”

  “I hope he comes with me.”

  Berta furrowed her brow. “You want him to leave everything to follow you around the world?”

  “I did for him.”

  “That was different.”

  “I don’t know why I tell you two my plans when all you do is criticize them.”

  They continued their stroll in silence until Rebecca let out a long, audible sigh. “Did you ever think our lives would be like this?” she asked them. “Mine’s been a complete failure, but what about you two? You’re happy, aren’t you?”

  Berta squeezed her arm gently. “You haven’t failed. You have Sofi, who is wonderful; you have your job. Just because your marriage ended doesn’t mean your life has. Besides, look at your hand.”

  Rebecca didn’t understand.

  “That silver ring you still wear is a clear reminder that you’ve experienced something truly wonderful, something many people never will.”

  “But I lost him.”

  “Oh, Lord, cheer up,” Lola said. “You’re not even thirty years old. You’ve got plenty of time to fall in love, get married, and get divorced several more times.”

  “Very funny.”

  “It’s true.”

  They were quiet. Lola, her cheeks burning, finally moved into the shade.

  “Things are good with me,” Berta said. “I don’t have a job, and I don’t think I’ll look for one until the kids are older, but I’m content.”

  Lola moved between them and draped her arms over their shoulders. “Well, I thought by the time I was thirty, I’d be this hot-shot correspondent who roamed the globe going after the big stories. One article a week in a newspaper with hardly any readers isn’t what I expected.”

  “But you have Rory,” Rebecca reminded her.