Raquel's Abel

by Leigh Barbour

  She twisted in her place on the couch. “That’s different.”

  I just looked at her hoping I could shame her into realizing she wasn’t the only living breathing thing on the planet.

  “You know, Raquel, you’ve always had so much.”

  I eyed her pointedly. “Had so much?” She’d gotten a very nice house out of her divorce, but I was about to lose mine. “I didn’t know I had so much.”

  “You do too know.” She puffed her lips out and brought her feet up under her without kicking off her shoes.

  “You were the one with boyfriends and held the title of miss popularity around here.”

  “When I walked out that front door, I was everything, but inside this house, I was nothing.”

  I forgot my frustration with her. With everything else going on, I’d forgotten I needed to find a way to tell Regina that Mother had committed suicide. Now wasn’t the time, she was way too down. I’d have to wait until she met her next love and when she was high on that roller coaster ride, I’d find a way to break it to her.

  “Everything in here was, Raquel this and Raquel’s so good at that.”

  I took a deep breath. “Regina, I know you weren’t treated fairly when we were little, but your whole life can’t be going from man to man because of that.”

  “And what do you want me to do?” She lobbed her arms out. “Write books? Teach at the college?” Her lips pinched together and her cheeks turned red. “Have you forgotten I dropped out of high school?”

  “That doesn’t define you. The fact that you dropped out of school doesn’t have to guide the rest of your life.”

  She looked away then back at me. “What do you want me to do? Just pick up and go back to school?” Her eyes looked glassy and for an instant I thought she’d cry.

  “Actually, I think that’s a great idea.”

  She pulled her lips to the side and began to chew the inside of her mouth. “You probably just want to see me fail.”

  “Daddy might have made you feel that way, but I didn’t. I never believed you were dumb.”

  The anger left her face. Her jaw dropped then closed quickly. “You didn’t?”

  “No, I never believed that for an instant.”

  Regina started at the floor for a moment. “I don’t know. I couldn’t imagine going back to high school.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You probably just have to take a test or something. You might not even have to take any classes.”

  Her eyes shot back and forth as if she were deep in thought. “Just take a test?”

  “Listen, you have dedicated your life to always having a man, but you have talent. You’ve always had an incredible concept of design.” I pointed at her outfit. “Look, you put that outfit together and I bet you didn’t get any help doing that.”

  She shook her head.

  “You were good at art. You’ve been so busy going from man to man you haven’t looked at what’s inside Regina.”

  “But you believe?” Her eyes crinkled up

  I cocked my head wondering what she meant.

  “I mean you actually believe I could get my high school diploma?”

  “Believe you could get your diploma? Of course I do. In fact, I’m sure you could get a college degree.”

  She couldn’t have looked more dazed if I’d smacked her in the head with a baseball bat. “Really?”

  “Daddy should have told you he believed in you.” I refrained from telling her. Now wasn’t the time.

  Regina put her feet back on the floor and looked around for her purse. “I’ve got to go.”

  I stood up and touched her arm. “Think about what I’ve said.”

  Regina’s face looked so calm as if she didn’t have to wear her armor any more. “I will. I’ll think about it.” She walked slowly toward the front door and this time her heels didn’t clack against the marble.

  Later that day, I stepped out the front door to get the mail. Wind whipped around my shoulders, sending shudders down my spine. Normally I never wore a coat, even in the dead of winter and it was just the beginning of November. Then I remembered I hadn’t needed a coat before because I’d been shrouded in a coat of blubber. Now I was like everyone else. I actually needed to bundle up because of the cold.

  I continued out to the mailbox, enjoying how my teeth chattered. Inside was a familiar looking envelope. I looked more closely. It was from the State of Virginia. A deeper chill ran through me. Slowly I walked back to the house, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

  It wasn’t. The value of the house had gone up considerably, most likely since we had riverfront property. I now owed $50,000 in taxes for this year alone. It may as well be five million. Even the hefty advance I’d get for the Roosevelt biography wouldn’t be enough to pay all of the bills that were piling up.

  I laid it aside and looked at the next envelope. It was from the Gretna Foundation. I opened the envelope, assuming they were asking for a donation. Fat chance they’d get money from me.

  I read through the official-looking letter with gold-embossed letterhead. They were looking for a location for a new girl’s school. My home was large enough and centrally-located enough. I stared at the printed words. My house a school…

  A feeling of contentment swept through me. Abel was behind me. This time I sensed him before seeing his angelic smiling face.

  “And how is the loveliest woman in the world this morning?” He had on my father’s smoking jacket again.

  “A company wants to turn this house into a school.” My eyes moved from the letter to Abel.

  His usually alabaster skin turned pink with little spider veins running through his cheeks. “Let me see that.” His eyebrows curled. “A la-dee-dah private school,” he growled.

  He didn’t have to explain. He’d wanted this to be an orphanage to help disadvantaged children, not rich ones.

  “I oppose this,” he said indignantly.

  “I may not have a choice. I also got a bill for the taxes. It’s much more than I can afford to pay.”

  “Have faith, my dear.”

  He had jutted his chin out to give him an air of invincibility, but I saw through his bravado.

  “If we have to leave, we’ll just get something smaller.” My insides felt raw, worse than when I had the surgery. I’d never lived anywhere else except the college dorm, but that had been fine because I’d come home on the weekends. “It will be hard for Grandmother, but we’ll survive.” I looked at Abel. I still wasn’t convinced he could leave the house as he said.

  He stepped toward me and I let my head fall onto the plush of his velvet jacket. “Do not worry. You will never leave this house unless you want to.”

  I kept my head buried in the warmth of his chest, wanting to believe his comforting words.

  In spite of Abel’s words, I moped around the house trying to get inspiration for my next book. There were so many great people to write about, but I couldn’t come up with one candidate.

  I came out of my office and sat down in the room where Maria Elena usually watched television.

  A few minutes later, Maria Elena pushed Grandmother into the room.

  “This is very good. You can watching my novela with us.”

  Grandmother’s old eyes moved dryly in their sockets. “Why are you so down, dear?” She waved her crinkled hand at me.

  I placed my palm in hers and felt her cool skin.

  “What has you so upset?”

  Maria Elena was holding the remote control in her hand waiting for our conversation to end. “Yes, Señorita, you looking very sad.”

  I looked up at the ceiling for solace, but then I saw a new crack. I looked away quickly. “It’s the house.”

  “Don’t worry about the house,” my grandmother said as she squeezed my hand.

  “Yes, Señorita, I cleaning when I get time.” Maria Elena’s fingers were poised to turn the television on.

  “It’s worse than that.”

  “My sister is right,
Raquel, we’ll help you clean this place up.”

  I smiled at their offer to help me. “There are so many bills to pay on the house, and I can’t possibly pay them all.”

  Grandmother pulled her hand away then swatted at the air. “Money? You don’t need to worry about things like that.”

  Maria Elena’s eyes had gotten as round as golf balls.

  “I need a very large amount of money or we’ll lose the house.”

  “Pshaw, I was smart enough to hang onto quite a bit of the money and jewels I had in Russia.”

  I had to take a deep breath to keep from getting angry at my grandmother.

  “Money and jewels,” Maria Elena repeated.

  “I wish I could stay and watch the soap opera with you two, but I’ve got things to do.” I ran out of the room quickly. If I listened to her, I’d start to dream of nonexistent fortunes.

  When I’d gone to the doctor about my skin infections, he’d given me pills and suggested I wear a full-body girdle. I’d gone out and bought one and I was now trying to put myself and all my extra skin inside it. I looked great, but I felt like a mummy under my clothes.

  I slipped a shimmery silver dress over my head and zipped it up. The mirror didn’t reflect the fear welling up inside me. Tonight Owen and I were going to dance against some of the real greats in the world of ballroom dance. To win tonight, every turn would have to be perfect, every promenade graceful, and most of all, we had to look like we were in control of the dance floor and the crowd.

  As usual Owen picked me up in his truck, talking as if we’d already won the competition. I danced well, but there was no substitute for rehearsing every day, and that was something I couldn’t do.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll knock ’em dead tonight.” His truck made a sick sound, echoing the way I felt. I was always willing to drive, but he insisted on picking me up every time.

  “You know, there are some very good dancers competing tonight.”

  “I was thinking about that, but I think it’s all in the teamwork.” He gently rapped my shoulder with his knuckles. “And you know, we are an awesome team.”

  I clutched my purse tightly. “I really need to be devoting more time to writing. I still haven’t even come up with the subject for my next biography.”

  He shook his head and stared straight at the road. “We’re doing great, so far. You’ll just have to schedule better so we can practice more.”

  “I’m not sure if…”

  Owen started to bang on the steering wheel. “And, you know, the next competition will be in Orlando, Florida.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. We’re entering the big time, girl.”

  This was just getting to be too much. I’d have to talk to him after the competition. If we won, it would break his heart and I’d know it was all my fault.

  Lorraine was sitting in the front and waved at Owen when we walked in. He simply gave her a grin as we walked by.

  “You really should talk to her,” I said as I took a seat backstage.

  Owen poopooed me as he went over and stood in front of a full-length mirror. “Do you like the way these pants look in the back?”

  As usual, Owen looked great from his head to his toes. “You look fine.”

  “You are always so sweet.” He sat down on the bench beside me. “It’s having somebody that thinks you’re great that makes you a good dancer.” He winked at me.

  “No, Owen, you’re a GREAT dancer.”

  “Not everybody thinks that.” He crossed his legs and wound his foot around in circles.

  “Yes, everybody thinks that.” I knew he was thinking back to the days when he was just learning ballroom and he wasn’t very popular. “Lorraine thinks so.”

  A buzzer sounded.

  “Saved by the bell. I am certainly ready to end this ridiculous conversation.” He popped up then bent over and offered me his hand. “Come on, princess, the best ballroom dancer this side of the Mississippi. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

  I opened my mouth to reply.

  “No more of your silliness, either.” He took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

  We lit into a slow Salsa. I fully believed the reason Owen was such a good choreographer was that he didn’t just use influences from other ballroom couples. He went out to nightclubs where Cubans and Puerto Ricans danced Salsa. Because of that he brought a real cultural flair to the routines. The music slowed, almost halting. We kept the rhythm until the music sounded loudly and the pace quickened. We kept our steps small and close under us just as Owen had seen the Latins do, then we erupted into twirls, one after the other, meeting perfectly after each turn. With a shout in Spanish, the music stopped and right on the note, we ended up with our arms stretched to the ceiling.

  The judges gave us our numerical scores, which were only a point above the last couple. The next pair of dancers, though, were the ones everyone expected to win.

  I looked at Owen, who sat beside me ignoring Lorraine’s glances.

  I couldn’t bear to see Owen’s face if this next couple beat us, and I knew they would.

  They entered in flame orange outfits. Her skirt was short in front and trailed down in the back. His collar was high in the back as if he wore part of a vampire costume.

  They had chosen a cha-cha-cha that had a nice constant beat. I’d never seen two dancers be able to accomplish so many complex moves while dancing so close together.

  I stared out at them, refusing to look back at Owen. There was no way we’d win this competition. Their steps were too fluid, too quick, too synchronized. They were certainly putting many more hours into rehearsing and choreographing than I’d ever be able to.

  The pace of the music slowed, and we waited for their finale, knowing it would be great.

  Her foot slipped out from under her. Since they were dancing so close together, both of them came crashing down like discarded rag dolls on the dance floor.

  I looked at Owen. He face had filled with horror at what had happened, but then a smile crept across his freckles. “We did it,” he mouthed.

  This was ridiculous, I thought as I watched the couple pick themselves off the floor.

  “We’re going to the next competition,” he whispered in my ear.

  I was still watching to see if either of the dancers were injured, but they had only suffered a blow to their pride.

  “Orlando, here we come.”

  “No, Owen, no.”

  “You’re just intimidated.”

  “You saw how they danced, Owen. That couple has what it takes. We would be able to dance that well if I had all the time in the world to practice, but I don’t.”

  His mouth drew up all wrinkly like a bulldog’s face.

  “You know it’s true. And don’t forget that I have to have that surgery and I’ll be out of commission for a long time with that.”

  “You’re abandoning me.”

  “No, that’s not true at all.” Loyalty meant so much to him.

  Owen got up and walked toward the front door.

  I followed behind him trying to plead my case. “I’m not deserting you. I’ll be at every competition cheering you on.”

  He opened the front door and didn’t hold it for me.

  “You’re acting like a child,” I called after him.

  He spun around. “If I’m acting like a child, then you’re acting like a quitter.”

  “Not a quitter, Owen. Consider dancing with Lorraine.” It was the best thing for him. Why couldn’t he see that?

  He headed toward the driver’s side of the truck.

  I tried to open the passenger side door, but it was so rusty it refused to move more than a few inches. “Come on, Owen.”

  He sauntered over and opened it for me.

  I put my hand on his arm. “Don’t be like this.”

  He hung his head. “You have your books.”

  That was true. Owen didn’t like being a waiter at someone else’s restaurant. He wanted to w
ork for himself as much as he wanted to be an award-winning ballroom dancer. I opened my mouth to argue with him.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” He waited for me to get into the truck then closed the old door making sure my gown wasn’t caught.

  He drove me to my house in silence. He was so much like Regina—mistreated in childhood and still acting it out in adulthood.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the months slipped by, I was losing even more weight. I felt much better and could walk long distances without getting winded. Most enjoyable was that I could breathe much more easily, now that those extra pounds weren’t crushing my chest. There was a down side, though. I needed to wear the full body girdle all the time. It looked like I had enough skin for three people on my frame.

  Selling the house was the solution. That would give me plenty of money to have the surgery. Still, parting with the house didn’t seem like something my father and grandfather would have approved of, although they would have wanted what was best for me.

  I washed my breakfast dishes and was busy wiping off the island when Abel appeared in front of me. Today he wore an overcoat. “Good morning.” He took off his cap and bowed ceremoniously.

  Joy filled me and I must have blushed.

  “You are even more radiant today than on other days,” he said in his gentlemanly voice.

  That feeling of being truly cared for seeped into me.

  “May I invite you to take a stroll with me down to the river?”

  “What a lovely idea. I haven’t been down there in years.” The truth was I hadn’t been able to walk such a long distance since I was a child. “Let me get my coat.”

  Soon we were ambling arm-in-arm past the old tennis courts I still hadn’t been able to restore. He didn’t have to say it. I knew he was thinking how much the orphans would enjoy batting the tennis balls around in there.

  Abel wrapped his arm around me. “Are you cold, my dear?”

  “Not now.” I enjoyed feeling his arm protecting me from the wind bending the branches overhead. Some of the more stubborn, brightly colored leaves still clung to the trees, while most were below our feet, damp and brown.