“You will looking good dancing in that dress,” Maria Elena assured me.
“Thank you,” I giggled. “I’m thinking I’d like to go shopping.”
“I coming with you, Señorita Raquel?”
“That’s a great idea.” I’d never looked forward to buying clothes before. Of course I’d still be shopping in the big women’s department, but at least this time I wouldn’t wear the biggest size in the entire store.
Grandmother raised both of her hands in a fan-like gesture. “Raquel, you look so lovely. I wish I could find my old jewelry for you to wear with that outfit.”
“Jewelry?” I didn’t recall any jewelry my grandmother had.
“Yes, you know there were so many things that the Romanovs had. My mother had us sew many of our jewels into our corsets when we were leaving the palace. I have many pieces. I just don’t seem to be able to find them.”
“Grandmother, you couldn’t possibly have jewelry from the Russian royal family!”
“And why not? My mother was very fond of that Fabergé man. Carl, I think was his name.”
“Please don’t keep this nonsense up,” I pleaded. The thought of there being things in the house from the Romanovs who’d been murdered and chopped into tiny pieces made me shiver.
My grandmother looked back at the television. “It isn’t nonsense. One day you’ll see.”
Exasperated, I turned to Maria Elena. “Let’s go shopping after lunch.”
I walked back upstairs without saying anything else to my grandmother.
That afternoon, Maria Elena helped me pick out a few new outfits. The thrill was the kind of feeling only an obese person could understand. I was able to get “normal clothes” now. I picked out several regular button-down blouses—even got some shorts. It was, the first time I’d worn anything like that since I was a child.
As I was checking out, I noticed that Maria Elena was empty-handed. She deserved something, so I decided to get a few things for her, also.
I went with her to the non-big women’s department and enjoyed looking at the kinds of things I could be wearing in a year or so.
Maria Elena picked out a few colorful sundresses and shorts, and I was glad to buy them for her. She really seemed to care for my grandmother.
Afterwards, we stopped in a sandwich shop for a bite to eat. Of course, I had to remove the bread and simply nibble on the vegetables and lean meat. This was a good time to ask her about her child.
“Maria Elena, I remember what you told me.”
“I glad you have the operation, Señorita.” She could be very coy when she wanted to.
“I am too, but…”
“You already looking very beautiful.”
“About the child you had in Ecuador.”
She laid her sandwich down and looked down at her hands.
“How old is he?”
“He was very beautiful.” Her lips trembled.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but if she had a child I wanted her to know she was welcome to bring him here.
“He live only a few weeks.”
“I’m so sorry.” I should have respected her attempt to keep it private.
“It was very long time ago, but I still thinking about his beautiful little face.” She pressed her lips together. “I gave him a lot of love. I don’t know why he die.”
“What did the doctors say?”
“They don’t know, but we not having much money.”
That was odd. I could have sworn Maria Elena told me her father owned a chain of department stores in the town she lived in. Of course, the baby was dead, and there was nothing anybody could do.
That afternoon, Regina came over, and I couldn’t resist modeling my new clothes. Maria Elena got in on the action, and paraded around in the things I’d gotten for her. Grandmother had a kind word for each item we’d purchased and let us know how much the color and style did for us. Regina, however, remained quiet during our fashion show.
Finally, when I came to sit next to her, I asked. “How’s Barry?”
“He’s all right. He’s still crazy about me,” she said a little too defensively.
“Glad to hear that.” Her bright yellow outfit with matching visor made her dark hair look darker and shinier.
“What have you been doing to keep yourself busy?” That was always a mystery to me. She never had a hobby or an interest, so I had no idea how she kept herself busy.
“Well, I’ve been meeting with lawyers about the divorce. It seems Carter isn’t going along with what I want.”
“Maybe you should get a job or something, you know, to keep yourself busy.”
“No!” She shot at me. “Besides, Barry wants me to stay with his kids sometimes.”
I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t imagine Regina babysitting.
“They’re all right kids, but they want so much attention.”
I didn’t say anything. No one had ever paid any attention to Regina when she was a child, so I imagine she had no idea how to treat those kids.
We talked for a little while longer, but she was so involved in herself she didn’t want to hear about my success with the surgery or how much weight I was losing.
After a while, she left and as I watched her leave, I wondered how long this thing with Barry would last and what Carter would do to her in the divorce. To the rest of the world, it probably appeared that she deserved what she got, but I knew better. My mother dying when she was so young and my father withholding love had really taken a toll on her. When would she rise above it?
I enjoyed reading about Teddy Roosevelt’s father as much as I did about the 26th president himself. Although wealthy, the first Theodore Roosevelt staunchly believed in helping the underprivileged. For me, what made writing a biography interesting was reading about the people around my subject, and if possible, their enemies and critics. To understand a character, I needed to understand his environment and the dynamics in which he was raised.
I was beginning to understand what made my subject tick, so I was on my way to actually starting the biography. Now I had to determine how I would start the book. Should I start with his childhood or should I start with him after his presidency and have him reminisce about his life? I sat back in my chair and stared at the blank screen in front of me.
“Good afternoon,” Abel’s voice broke the stillness.
I felt my face break out in a big smile. “You could knock.”
“Yes, you are right, but it isn’t a ghost’s habit to knock. It tends to scare people.”
“Etiquette for ghosts,” I said with a grin.
He wore another one of my father’s smoking jackets, with dark green paisleys running through it. He stepped toward me and stood erect with his hands clasped in front of him. “I have come to invite you to picnic with me.”
“Picnic?” I couldn’t imagine picnicking with a ghost.
“I would be honored if you would accept my invitation.”
He was so charming. “Of course I will.”
“Then I would be delighted if you would join me in the meadow behind the old tennis courts.” He had a satisfied grin on his face that made his thin blond mustache more prominent.
“When?”
“Tomorrow at 1:00, and don’t bring a thing.”
That made me really curious. What would a ghost serve for lunch?
The next day I felt as if I were a teenager going on her first date. Actually, I hadn’t been out on that many dates—a few, but not with someone I was really attracted to. My cast had finally been taken off and with the weight I’d lost, I was much more sure-footed.
I had gotten quite a few outfits that would be appropriate for the picnic, but I especially wanted to wear a pair of the capris with a matching cotton top. I’d even gotten a matching sunhat and sandals.
At twelve-thirty, I walked past the pool, then past the rose garden that now was nothing but a brown patch of sticks protruding out of the ground. That was another thing I coul
dn’t afford to maintain. I had fond memories of walking with my mother through what used to be a maze of rose bushes. We had stopped to sniff the roses on each bush that were white, pink, deep red, and even some miniature yellow roses my mother especially loved. She carried a basket and shears, cutting enough each week so we’d have fresh flowers in our rooms and as a centerpiece for dinner. I had few memories of my mother after Regina was born. She must have been very busy with my sister, because after she was born, I was usually accompanied by nannies.
Next, I came to the old tennis courts. The old metal fence was rusted and dipped in places, causing the sides to bow out like the side of a ship. Daddy and my uncles used to play tennis here. The concrete had cracked in places and weeds grew waist high.
I’d never even attempted to play tennis, but in the future, why couldn’t I play? I stopped and stared at the court. Of course I could. I’d be able to play. After losing a few more pounds, I’d get a racket and take lessons.
I walked around the tennis courts to see a white blanket, a brown wicker picnic basket, and Abel nowhere in sight. I sat down and was about to peak into the picnic basket when out of the dark green hollies, I saw him coming toward me. On his head he wore a cap with a short brim, white shirt, and baggy pants. He looked like he’d just hopped out of a Model A. I stood, glad I could now come to my feet gracefully.
“You are ravishing,” he said as he approached me.
My heart beat a little too hard, and I could imagine that my complexion flushed.
He grasped my fingers and held them tight while moving his head toward me. Our foreheads met. He smelled of fresh leather. His lips brushed mine and a thrill darted through me. He kicked off his shoes and pulled me down on the blanket.
“I have put together a light lunch for my dieting sweetheart.”
He lifted the lid of the basket and brought out two cups, then a pitcher of something cold. I’d feel so bad if he’d made me lemonade. I couldn’t have any kind of citrus after the operation.
“Not to worry.” He winked at me. “I know about your restrictions.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and felt so honored he’d gone to the trouble to check what I could and couldn’t eat. He poured me a cup of ice-cold water.
“It’s perfect,” I said and took a sip.
“My mother always loved to have a tall glass of ice cold water.” He took a sip and closed his eyes. “It was a long time ago, but I can almost see her getting the frosty glass out of the icebox.”
“I lost my mother when I was young, too.”
“Yes, I remember your mother well.”
A chill ran through me. “What was my mother like?” I barely recalled her.
“Before you were born, your mother and father used to throw wild parties out here. It was the sixties and there would be people out here strumming guitars and girls with long skirts dancing and swaying as if angels guided them.”
“I can hardly imagine my father at a Hippie party.”
“Well, his hair was a tad longer.”
“And then I came along.”
“You were a lovely little girl.”
“All little girls are lovely.”
“No, you had something special from the day you were born.”
“I’m surprised you were never under Regina’s spell.” Growing up was difficult, being fat, and on top of that I had the most beautiful and popular girl in Richmond as my sister.
“Poor Regina, she was only happy if she had a slew of admirers. You, however, were always complete. Even when you were a tiny girl, you had an aura about you, a kind of crown.”
“Now you sound like my grandmother.”
“Princess Raquel.” He grinned and I saw his dimples again. He took his cap off and leaned back on the blanket. “Can I interest you in some sushi?”
“Sushi,” I repeated. That was one of the things I was allowed to eat. I had been so afraid he would have made sandwiches, and I was unable to eat bread.
He lifted two plates of sushi rolls out of the picnic basket. Soon, he’d filled up two tiny bowls with black sauce and had handed me chopsticks.
“How did you know I loved sushi?” I ripped the wooden sticks apart.
“It was a lucky guess. When your father was a child, I heard a lot about the war with Japan, but now everything Japanese is in vogue.”
“You’ve seen a lot of history.” I clasped the chopsticks around a sushi roll and dipped it into the sauce.
“After seeing a war first hand, I was content to only concentrate on the positive side of life.”
I enjoyed the sushi roll, making sure to chew it slowly and deliberately. My tiny stomach could only handle small amounts.
“I’ve been seeing you working on that fancy typewriter of yours.”
I laughed. “It’s called a computer.”
“That sounds very complicated.”
“It’s not so bad.” I took a sip of the lemonade. “I’m starting a book on Teddy Roosevelt.”
“Hmmph.” He grabbed another piece of sushi and stuck it into his mouth.
I decided not to ask how a ghost could eat. “He was brought up in a family that did a great deal of charity work.”
“I’d say it’s easier to do charity work than to be in need of charity.”
“I suppose living in an orphanage wasn’t the best way to grow up.” I felt guilty since I’d had everything I’d needed, except a mother.
“I can’t complain about the orphanage. I was treated just like all the other orphans.” He laid his chopsticks down. “While Teddy Roosevelt was conserving the land out West and building up our Navy, I was an orphan boy with no shoes on my feet.”
“He’s considered a hero for establishing so many of our national parks, and many say we won both world wars because of his foresight.”
“I suppose it’s hard to imagine our world if we had been unsuccessful in our European campaigns, but from what I see, every war starts out as a rich man’s issue that ends up being a poor man’s fight.”
“Are you trying to convince me not to write about Roosevelt?”
“No, no, it’s not that at all.” He hung his head and looked out at the line of pines across from us. “I was cut down in my prime and I was never allowed to live out my life nor try to accomplish what I’d dreamt about.”
How many boys had had their lives cut short by war? No one knew what they would have done if they had lived.
“I wanted to come back home, make a fortune, and build orphanages.” He pointed his eyes at mine. “Maybe you would have written a book about me.”
I looked down at the blanket, ashamed at how unjust the world can be.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve spent our precious time talking about politics and things that will never change.”
He moved next to me and took my fingers and gently crumpled them in his hands. He gazed into my eyes. “I miss you when you’re not with me.”
“Then don’t go.”
“I long for the day when I can hold my shape for more time.”
Then I realized. He had been with me today longer than he’d ever been. “Can’t you hold on?”
His eyebrows wrinkled and he pressed his lips together. “I’ll try, but I feel myself slipping.”
I planted my lips on his. He pulled me closer. I wrapped my arms around him determined to hold him here. His muscles were firm, then he felt soft like a pillow. Then nothing. He was gone and I was lying on the bare grass.
I looked out at the trees that surrounded me. “Why can’t he stay?” I shouted.
Chapter Eight
A month later, I was back to work and I’d become adjusted to consuming much less food than before. The pounds were falling off rapidly, a testament to how much I used to eat. For once I felt hopeful about the future. I’d always felt positive about my career, but now I knew that the future wouldn’t include constant criticism about my weight.
An email popped into my reader from my agent. She’d want to know how I was coming on
the Teddy Roosevelt biography. The truth was, after Abel’s point of view, I had decided to revamp my ideas on how I’d structure the biography. I still believed he was a great man, but I would question his decisions more as I wrote about him.
The phone rang. I picked it up, assuming my agent had decided email wasn’t quite enough and had decided to call.
“Hey, it’s me,” Regina’s voice dragged into the receiver.
“What’s up with you?” I asked as if I couldn’t imagine.
“Oh, you know—men.”
“What’s happened this time?” So predictable—she did this to herself, but I hated to see her suffer.
“Barry. He calls when he wants to.” Knowing Regina, she hadn’t bathed or gotten out of bed since her problems with Barry started.
“Well, him not calling you isn’t the end of the world.” She needed a life, but I couldn’t give her one. In the past, my pep talks had never worked.
“He stood me up the other night,” she sniffed.
“He never called?”
“Yes, he called me right before he was supposed to be here.” I heard some rustling in the background and I imagined she was sitting up in bed. “I think he’s seeing his wife.”
“I thought they were divorced.”
“Not quite yet. He said he was going to sign the papers…” Her voice trailed off.
“Why don’t you come over here?” I didn’t really want to be around her, but I wanted her to know I cared.
“No, I want to be here if he calls so I can get dressed up.”
“Regina. Don’t.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Her voice had gone from a whiny violin to pieces of metal hitting each other.
“If you’d just listen…”
“I’ve got to go. Just wish my sister could have some compassion.”
I heard the receiver bang down on the phone. If she’d get an interest, or a hobby, or a job, or something, even go back to school, she’d be so much happier and have something to offer a man. What would she do if Carter took the house away from her? Would she come back home? She wouldn’t be happy here, but she’d love making me miserable.
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