Raquel's Abel

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Raquel's Abel Page 10

by Leigh Barbour


  “If you say no, do we get to go home?” Abel slid next to me so I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  I thought quickly. “Well, I have a pool.”

  “Right, yeah, I love doing laps.” He raised his hand as if he were going to continue, but the waiter came with a beer and placed it in front of him. “Sure you won’t have a drink?” He asked as he took a swig. I watched the bubbles move upward in the yellowish liquid.

  “He wants to get you drunk and have his way with you.”

  Mitch laid his hand across my hand. “Let me tell you about my new book.” The tip of his index finger ran across my nail.

  “I hope he doesn’t have anything. Some things are very contagious, especially when you associate with vermin.”

  “Has the publisher voiced interest yet?” I asked.

  He leaned back in the chair and squeezed my fingers. “Of course they’ll be interested.”

  “This chap’s got the world by the tail, he has.”

  I took the spiky heel of my new shoe and smacked it down on top of Abel’s foot.

  “What happened?” Mitch stood up and looked over at the floor. “Don’t tell me you saw a roach. If you did, I’ll tell them we’re out of here.”

  “No,” I gestured for him to sit back down. “They’re just new shoes, you know, a little uncomfortable.”

  Abel doubled over on the table in pain. I must have gotten him good.

  Mitch sat back down and took my hand back. “My book’ll be a best seller, I know it.”

  Abel shot up out of his chair. “If you prefer this braggart to me, then so be it.” I looked up at his face and saw him melt into hot metal, then boil away.

  Mitch was so busy telling me about his new book he didn’t even notice I wasn’t looking at him.

  Last night had been very nice. Mitch and I had talked—correction, Mitch told me about his book, down to each and every chapter. He’d brought me home at a reasonable hour and he’d behaved like a perfect gentleman. Before asking permission to call me for another date, he gave me a peck on the lips when he left.

  As I was on the way to the kitchen, the front door opened. Maria Elena and Grandmother were still asleep, so it had to be my sister. The second I saw Regina’s shiny black head, I knew Barry had called her.

  “We’re going to Aruba.”

  I watched her walk in her glittery sandals to the living room. Her skin was glowing as if she’d just put on a lot of self-tanning lotion and her shorts outfit was skintight.

  “He’s signing those divorce papers this week and he’s only getting the kids every other weekend.” She sat on the sofa and crossed her legs seductively, even though I was the only one there.

  It was very clear she’d forgotten completely about having Grandmother institutionalized. I’d known it was just her bad mood that had made her suggest that.

  “I know why you’re so quiet,” Regina said

  “I’m not quiet. I’m just listening to your good news.”

  “You’re wondering if I’m still mad about you and Maria Elena throwing that salad at me.”

  I couldn’t think of a reply. If I were her, I wouldn’t believe a story about a ghost. My heart throbbed painfully just thinking about Abel. He’d been a royal pain last night, but I shouldn’t have hurt him.

  “Well, I’m not really mad any more…” Regina looked at me as if she expected an apology.

  I opened my mouth about to apologize when I realized how much she’d deserved Abel throwing the salad on her head.

  She raised her finger. “Wait. There’s something different about you.” She studied me. “Yes. There is.” She waived her finger again. “Is there a man in your life?’

  I felt my cheeks flush. “I met someone.” I felt a sad twinge deep inside. The man I really cared about was Abel, but how could I be in love with a man no one else could see?

  “Oh, losing that weight has done wonders for you.”

  Abel liked me when I was fat, but Mitch…

  “This is your first boyfriend, isn’t it?” She got a satisfied look on her face.

  I didn’t respond.

  “What’s his name?” Regina said in a quipped tone. She was used to being the only one with beaus.

  “Mitch Draughan. You might have heard of him. He’s a writer.” That was silly. Regina had probably never finished a single book in her life.

  “Sounds nice. A writer. Probably has some money.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She leaned over as if wanting to tell me a secret. “But tell me, have you told him you used to be, well, you know, bigger than a house?” She looked down at her watch. “I’ve really got to go. I just stopped by here on the way to the mall. I’ve got to get some things to wear in Aruba.”

  She was always able to make me feel bad, no matter what was going on in my life. I sat in the living room thinking after Regina had left.

  “Regina always saying bad things to you, Señorita Raquel.”

  I looked up to see Maria Elena walking into the room. “You no should letting her speaking to you like that.” She was scowling and her copper-colored skin puckered around her mouth.

  “I feel guilty that my father completely ignored Regina.”

  “Your father bad, not you.”

  “Regina is looking for the love my father withheld from her. So she tries to find it in every man she meets.”

  “But you should not letting her talk to you bad all the time.” She sat down beside me with a look on her face like she was not going to let me drop this subject.

  “I hope that by being nice to her, she’ll feel supported and will develop confidence in herself.”

  “She getting confidence in being mean to her sister.” Maria Elena gave me long slow nods as if trying to grind in what she’d said.

  Maria Elena was right. Regina even picked on my grandmother when she was in a bad mood.

  She got up from the couch. “Next time she coming, you tell her she no talking to you that way.” Maria Elena disappeared around the corner.

  I needed to be more assertive with Regina.

  Chapter Ten

  A week passed and Abel hadn’t surfaced. I missed his beautiful dark eyes that raked over me like I was an exquisite piece of crystal. I needed to put him out of my mind, though. He was a ghost and he was a chauvinist; he wanted to control every part of my life. It was flattering, though. Having a man think I was as important as the sun and the moon was a good feeling. How could I have a life with a ghost, though?

  That night, Owen and I were dancing in yet another competition. I put on a new outfit I’d bought. Buying clothes before had been a chore, something necessary, but hardly pleasant, and now, I couldn’t wait to get to the mall to get a new outfit. I needed to be careful about what I spent. The bills were always just around the corner when it came to this house. Most of the money from my father’s estate was gone and my paychecks couldn’t pay to maintain a house as big as many hotels.

  We rolled down the long driveway, Owen’s truck rattling and creaking. I rummaged around in my purse.

  “Whatcha looking for?”

  “My cell phone.” I shut my purse angrily. “Abel must have hidden it.”

  “You and your ghost.”

  I shook my head. He was probably doing that so I wouldn’t know if Mitch called or not.

  “Ready to do that sexy tango move tonight?” Owen looked like he was about to burst with excitement.

  I nodded and looked down at the royal blue dress with an orangey-gold scarf that encircled the neckline then hung down in the back. It would plummet to the floor just right when Owen did the dramatic dip at the end.

  “We are really going somewhere, Raquel.” He banged his freckly fists on the rusty steering wheel.

  “You are such a good dancer.”

  He patted me on the thigh. “We are such good dancers.”

  “But you have the drive and the enthusiasm. You live to get on the dance floor and many of those moves you choreograph a
re ten times better than what we see at the national championship.”

  “Wish my family would come see me dance.”

  I inhaled loudly. “You should invite them. Why not?”

  “Why not.” His eyes grew dim as he pulled into the parking lot. “Because they wouldn’t want anybody to know they were related to the ho-o-mosexual dancing like a fairy up on stage.”

  “They’ll accept you one day.” If I had a child, I’d love them no matter what.

  “They’d accept me if I were the champion wood chopper, or if I owned the winning bird in a cockfight. But come to see me dance? They’d just as soon have dinner with Osama bin Laden.” The truck made a sick grinding sound when he engaged the parking gear.

  Owen came around and opened the door for me since there was no handle on the inside.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll always be there to cheer you on.”

  I was glad I said something kind to him because he grabbed me and sobbed into my shoulder. “Thanks,” he croaked.

  “Don’t get yourself into bad spirits.” I pushed him off my shoulder. “You are going to dance much better than any Fred Astaire tonight.” He had to cheer up. Dancing, many times, had to do with the mood the dancer was in. No matter how difficult the moves were, you had to look like you were having the time of your life.

  As if he’d read my mind, he pushed his chest out and offered me his elbow. I laced my arm around his and we entered the competition area to wait for our turn.

  A little while later, we were on the dance floor and the sinuous Tango music started. With our arms rigidly extended, we waited for the music to draw us into the Argentine rhythm. Soon the parts below my waist began to swivel as Owen led me up and down the ballroom taking long exaggerated steps ending with dramatic about-faces. Owen pushed me and I arched back, hearing the crowd moan, then he pulled me into our ending pose, me with my hair dragging the ground and Owen bending over me. By the applause, no one had to tell us. We had qualified to go on to the next level.

  We’d have to practice a lot harder in the upcoming months, and we’d have to design and learn an entirely new routine, one that was much more difficult than anything we’d ever even attempted. The problem was that I really needed to get to work on my Teddy Roosevelt biography, which my agent was sure would bring a hefty advance once the manuscript was finished and polished.

  I’d dance with Owen, though. He was my friend and I owed him to do my best at winning these championships. I knew how much it meant to him.

  After we left the dance studio, we headed for an all-night diner. On the way over, I told him about Mitch. I thought Owen would be thrilled for me, but he was quiet while we were driving.

  I sipped on my water and nibbled on crackers and a salad while he ate a big greasy hamburger with fries slathered in ketchup. “You miss this?” He asked as he stuffed a few French fries in his mouth.

  “No, not at all.” I held my arms out. “I’m enjoying this slimness.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  “Problem?” Was he crazy?

  “You aren’t used to all this attention you’re getting from men.”

  I felt defensive the way I always felt with Regina, but I knew Owen meant well.

  “I’m not too crazy about this Mitch guy.”

  “I don’t say anything about the guys you go out with.”

  “That’s different, ’cause I got experience and you don’t.” Owen had a big smear of mayonnaise across his cheek.

  I pointed and watched him wipe it off with his napkin. “What difference does it make if you’ve gone out with a lot of people? It’s the person who counts.”

  “Ya don’t know how to read people, that’s all.”

  “Maybe I haven’t dated a lot, but I’ve done pretty well negotiating with agents and things like that.”

  He laid what was left of his hamburger on his plate. “Totally different, girl.”

  I pretended I was looking out the window at the headlights whizzing by outside, but inside I was angry that he didn’t think I was able to carry on a relationship with a man.

  “Just be careful is all. Don’t jump in headfirst.

  Owen dropped me off after a very quiet ride home.

  “Abel,” I called loudly as soon as I’d stepped into the foyer. The house was dark except for a light Maria Elena had left burning for me at the top of the stairs. “Abel Rollins,” I said.

  “At your service, my dear.” He appeared on the staircase. “I am here for you.”

  “Where is my cell phone?”

  “I am fine, Raquel. HHow are you?” He smiled.

  “I don’t exchange pleasantries with thieves.”

  He slowly descended the stairs. He had my father’s smoking jacket on again. “I hardly think you should call me a common thief.”

  “Where is it?”

  His lids rose seductively. “Right where you put it.”

  I felt inside my purse. My fingers felt the phone. “I bet you think that’s cute.” I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed. He thought he could control me. I looked down at the display. There were seven calls from Mitch.

  Abel’s mouth puckered into a pout. “How could you prefer him to me?”

  “It isn’t that I…” I blinked my eyes and he was gone. “Where did you go?”

  Silence.

  “That’s why I prefer him over you,” I called out in the still night air.

  “From Señorita Regina,” Maria Elena handed me a postcard with a picture of white sand, lazy palm trees and aqua seas.

  “Having a blast. Love, Regina.” She’d written on the back.

  “She not writing much, must being very romantic.” Maria Elena tucked her chin under and raised her eyebrows as she laughed.

  “I’m sure it is.” Had Barry actually signed the divorce papers before he left as he said he would?

  Maria Elena and I walked into the living room, where Grandmother was sitting ignoring the television blasting away with Spanish programs.

  “Good morning, dear.” Grandmother smiled at me stretching the wrinkly lips out.

  “From Regina.” I handed her the postcard.

  “Raquel having boyfriend, too.” Maria Elena did a little dance before sitting down and turning down the volume with the remote.

  “You have another suitor?” Grandmother turned her head toward me and raised her brow.

  “I seeing him, very handsome.” Maria Elena grinned and nodded.

  “You weren’t around when he picked me up.”

  “Yes, I watching.” She turned to grandmother. “Nice car.”

  “Abel Rollins is a delightful gentleman, also.” She stared at me without flinching, as if she were lecturing me without opening her mouth.

  “You seem to be forgetting the fact that he isn’t real. He’s a ghost.”

  “There are only a few people in this world that experience real love.”

  I didn’t say anything, because I was busy thinking about Abel and the way he’d held me and kissed me. His arms had been protective, yet kind, and his lips had seemed like they were only for me.

  “My parents had real love, even though Rasputin was always trying to interfere with the affection they had for each other.”

  “Grandmother, stop with all this nonsense.”

  She raised her finger at me. “And I had real love with your grandfather.”

  I remembered my grandparents’ devotion to each other. My grandfather’s eyes used to light up when Grandmother walked into the room.

  “Real love is when you accept someone for who they are. It’s when you love someone without trying to change them.”

  That’s what was so charming about Abel’s love. He didn’t care how big or small I was. He’d even looked at me with adoring eyes when I’d woken up from surgery, and I must have been a sight.

  “Your grandfather guarded my secret jealously.”

  “Secret?” Maria Elena had been watching the television, but when she heard the word
secret she focused on Grandmother.

  “You know, back then, if people had found out I was a Romanov, I would have been killed.”

  “Killing you?” Maria Elena’s eyes had opened wide.

  “Yes, people wanted to kill me because they thought I would try to reclaim the Russian throne.”

  “Stop with this nonsense,” I said. “You have never been in Russia.”

  “I’ll have you know I was born there.” She turned to Maria Elena. “Wasn’t I, Tatiana?”

  Maria Elena looked at me then back at Grandmother.

  “You can’t be Anastasia Romanov,” I said. “If you were, you’d be over one hundred years old.”

  Grandmother fiddled with the buttons on her sweater. “I don’t believe I’m nearly that old.”

  “Well, if you were Anastasia, as you claim, you would have been born in 1901. That would make you well over a hundred years old.”

  “So old.” Maria Elena shook her head.

  “Don’t believe a word of it, Tatiana. My granddaughter means well, but she is very mistaken.”

  I took a deep breath and glanced at the necklace around Maria Elena’s neck. That still bothered me.

  “I have let you change the subject on me, Raquel.” Grandmother’s words drew my attention back to her. “We were on the subject of real love, the kind that makes you feel like you’re alive and that no one else exists in this world.”

  Maria Elena’s lips pinched together making her chin furrow. “I had real love.” The ends of her eyes dipped down sadly.

  “What happened to him?”

  “He still in Ecuador.”

  “All of the Russian nobility had to escape.” My grandmother said then took a deep breath.

  “Do you still love him?” I asked. Maria Elena’s face had turned melancholy, very out of character.

  “I still thinking him.” She stared down at her hands.

  “A real love is worth fighting for,” Grandmother said to me in an accusing tone.

  Mitch wanted to see me again and I’d pursue that relationship. After all, he was a real man.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mitch had made reservations at the Jefferson that evening—the most elegant place in town. I was very excited to be going out on my second date with him. I didn't know why Regina and Owen were making so many comments about my lack of dating experience. I hadn't ever really dated anybody long term or anything, but I'd been out with a man before.

 

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