His Temporary Wife

by Leslie P. García

  “We’re probably staying here, Dad,” Rafael ventured, his tone gentle. “The place grows on you.”

  He snorted. “If you say so.”

  “Any more problems with claimants?” Rafael asked, and his father shook his head. “No. Things quieted down when the probate news got old. The main concern’s still good old Doug.”

  The two elder Bentons excused themselves a short while later, claiming jet lag and old age—a malady, according to Alice , that could cause severe bouts of wanting-to-sleep-itis.

  “I have that and I’m not old.” Esme grinned.

  On their way out, Alice stopped to hug and kiss Esme. “As sudden as it was, I’m so glad y’all married,” she admitted. “I don’t begrudge anyone their freedom, and I know it’s not what it used to be—but it’s worked for us.”

  “And my parents,” Esme concurred, not really lying. They were still together. But then she realized that they weren’t her parents at all, and had to fight to keep from losing her composure again.

  Rafael was suddenly there beside her, looping an arm around her shoulder, and squeezing her. “We’ll see you later, then,” he told them. “Go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll have to show you Esme’s horse later. She’s keeping the others good company.”

  “Sounds good,” Chris said approvingly, then winked. “And maybe Alice and I can join Esmeralda in a little karaoke. She’s going to be a good influence on you, son. Get you right with country music again.”

  Alice chuckled and tugged on his arm. “Old man wasn’t supposed to ask you about that video yet,” she added over her shoulder. “We don’t know who sent it to us, but we loved your version.” Almost as if they’d rehearsed it, the two broke into the chorus of “Achy Breaky Heart” as they disappeared down the hall.

  Esmeralda watched them go. “What am I going to do? I can’t deal with all this right now. Your parents, my parents—I can’t deal with any of this.”

  “Esme … you don’t want to hear this, but what really changed? You have Adriana and Ernesto. You never really had Tía anyway.”

  “But I always felt I should have been with her. Always. I just never knew why.”

  “Don’t let it weigh on you. You’ve gone through worse.”

  “Much.”

  “Then?”

  “I hate logic. I’m going riding, Rafael.” She didn’t invite him, and he didn’t ask her.

  • • •

  The evenings were perfect for sitting outside and chatting, but Rafael and Chris went inside early to look online at a property they were interested in purchasing in Louisiana.

  “You and Rafael married very quickly,” Alice said, and Esme breathed a little prayer. She didn’t want to say something so wrong that Alice, clearly a smart woman who knew her son, would be suspicious.

  “I know. I’ve always been … impetuous. At least, I’ve been told that I am.” She hesitated. “Alice, how long did you know Mr. Benton before you knew you were in love with him?”

  “Honestly? “

  Esme nodded. “Yes. Please.”

  “A day.” Alice smiled at her surprise. “And mind you, we had nothing. I worked as a clerk, he worked sweeping an auto mechanic’s yard out. My dad would’ve tanned my hide, so I didn’t tell him, but the day I met Chris, I told my momma I was in love and wanted to marry him. We got married when I turned seventeen, and we’ve been together almost forty years.”

  “I … I turned Rafael down at first,” Esme admitted, being partially truthful. “But he’s persuasive. We’ll have to hope it turns out as it should.”

  “Hope won’t do it, girl. You have to work at it. We all do. But Rafael’s worth a lot of effort, and I’d say so if he weren’t my son.”

  “You truly love him as much … as much as Cody?” she asked.

  Alice flinched.

  “I’m sorry,” Esme said softly. “But I recently found out I was adopted. I never knew. I just … I guess I just wonder how it should be. When it works.”

  “Rafael is my son,” Alice replied without hesitation. “I hurt him when Cody died, and I know it. I said some awful things about him being jealous of Cody. I’ll spend the rest of my life being sure he knows I couldn’t love him more even if I had given birth to him.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alice stood, yawning. “I’ve got that darned old sleeping disease again.” She grinned. Then she laid a hand on Esme’s head. “Just remember, if someone hurts you with their words, the words might be different tomorrow. Don’t cut yourself off from family. Good night.”

  • • •

  Rafael paced back and forth in his study. Memories of Esmeralda waking him up to make love teased him. Worry over her emotional state tormented him. What if she regretted making love on the night she found out she was adopted? That was the night she found out that her mother knew her, had always known her, but had never wanted her. What if he couldn’t resist the urge to leave his study and return to her room, this time being the one to tease and touch, to taste … He stopped himself. He preferred to be in control. He hadn’t been in control since he and Esme had made love. He couldn’t let all the problems overwhelm him.

  His mom and dad had received a certified letter from Doug Harper stating that he intended to sue for custody. His fists clenched. The man who had helped destroy his sister couldn’t take her baby away.

  “Are you all right, Rafael?” Esmeralda stood in the doorway, a slight line creasing her forehead. “You’ve been moving around in there like a caged animal.”

  “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Okay, maybe not. Harper says he’s going to sue for custody.”

  “You’ve got the lawyers and money,” Esme pointed out.

  “But what if he’s got the blood?” Then he looked at her. “Are you going out?”

  “Yes, I’m going to Beauty In Truth.” She laughed at his blank look. “The beauty salon. It’s right next to the restaurant.”

  “I knew that,” he faked, and she winked.

  “Sure you did. I’ll be back.”

  “I hope so,” he called after her. “Esme.” The name slid out like a plea. He didn’t want the summer to end, but it was flying by. Watching her walk away was scary, and she was just going to a beauty salon. What in the world would he feel when she walked away for good?

  She’d never stay. Not when she still thought he’d just hired her to placate his parents. How would he convince her that he loved her? If she left, he’d be that child without anyone again, angry and scared.

  She’d been withdrawn since the night they’d made love. Or maybe the morning after, when he’d announced that his parents were on the way. Which lie worried her more—that they could go back to not wanting each other, or that she loved him?

  Either way, they were lies he’d asked her to live—for money he didn’t even think she wanted.

  Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He glanced at his watch. His mom and dad were probably in the den downstairs, catching up on news and sharing their morning coffee.

  He found them there. Totally predictable. He smiled as they looked up, two loving people who had saved him from self-destruction. He owed them so much. He closed the door and leaned against it.

  “There’s something you need to know,” he told them. Pain stabbed him as he added, “I’ve lied to you.”

  His parents looked at each other, then at him. After a moment, his mother got out of the overstuffed armchair and walked to the daybed, patting the spot beside her. “Come sit with me,” she invited.

  He wanted to stand, hold himself away from their pain and censure, then the forgiveness they always gave, no matter how little he deserved it.

  But if his mother asked for something, he’d do it. He walked over and sat down, turning enough that he could face both of them. “It’s about Esme and me,” he said.

  Chris set his coffee mug down on the desk and pulled off his reading glasses. “This can’t be another Paulette thing,” he muttered. “You all signed an agreement.”

>   Beside him, his mother straightened. “Christopher Justin Benton, you apologize to Rafa right now! How dare you compare that … that thing to Esmeralda!”

  “But—”

  “Even a fool as blind as you can see this is not a Paulette kind of thing!” Alice’s anger vibrated in her voice, but then faded as she turned and hugged Rafael impulsively. “I’m afraid, though,” she said, not addressing his father any longer, “that this is a broken heart kind of thing.” She squeezed his arm. “Am I right?”

  Emotion overcame him, and he couldn’t speak, so he just wrapped his arms around her and hugged her gently.

  Across the room, Chris Benton sighed and reached for his glasses again. He put them on, stood, and came over to rest one hand on Alice’s shoulder and another on Rafael’s.

  “Tell us what you need us to do,” he said.

  • • •

  Esmeralda flipped open her wallet, looking for the bill she’d tucked in to pay for her trim and manicure. As she pulled the money out, a slip of paper fell out. She recognized it as she picked it up, but checked anyway. Doug Harper’s phone number.

  She found she still couldn’t discard it, or tear it in pieces. Maybe Rafael would like the number. He could talk to Doug, make him think about Justin. Rafael wouldn’t understand why she had the number. He’d wonder why she’d been willing to accept it from Beto. The fact that Beto had Bounty’s phone number raised her own suspicions, too, but Beto was out of the picture now. The temptation to do something for Rafael—something that would move him the way he moved her—burned inside her. She could just call and see what he wanted. She could do something to help the Bentons and their cherished little boy.

  A voice she didn’t recognize answered the phone, but then Doug Harper came on. He introduced himself as Bounty, but she refused to address him by that name after his disgusting behavior and his legal threats.

  “What did you want from me?” she demanded, and he immediately started with the innuendo.

  “Well, what do you think I wanted?” he drawled.

  “Don’t call again.”

  “Don’t hang up,” he said quickly. “Please. I’m sorry. I can help you.”

  “I don’t need help. And I don’t need a man, either, Doug. I have one.”

  “Look, I think Justin is mine. And I want him. But I have a record deal now. I’ve been offered a tour as an opening act. I may not be the best choice to raise him.”

  “So leave him where he is,” she said. “He’s happy, Doug. He’s a happy little boy with grandparents and an uncle who love him.”

  “I … I don’t know. If I don’t claim him now, later they might say I never showed any interest. I think I have to try now.” He paused. After a long silence, he sighed into the phone. “Look, meet me at the Silver Dollar. Tomorrow. I want to do the right thing.”

  “Not from what I heard,” Esme reminded him.

  “Esmeralda, did your parents ever hate one of your boyfriends?”

  “They hated all of them, but especially the one I wanted to marry. So what?”

  “Did they try to break you up?” She didn’t answer, and she could almost imagine him nodding at the silent receiver. “Yeah. Cody loved me, Esme. She wasn’t a stupid woman. Her family just wouldn’t let her choose. I wasn’t good enough.”

  She could see that happening, except … “You came on to me. I didn’t ask for it or enjoy it. You knew I was engaged. Why?”

  “I’m a jerk, Esme. I don’t deny that. I play a Romeo type in my show. The girls eat it up, and right now I have to draw as many folks as I can. But if you gave me a chance, I think I could leave you with a better impression.”

  “I have to go,” she said. “If I’m in town tomorrow, maybe I’ll call.”

  “I’ll be at the Silver Dollar at four for a sound check and rehearsal. Come if you want to.”

  All the way home, Doug’s explanation turned circles in her head. Toby had been such a good kid. Nobody had ever given him a chance. What if the Bentons were just wrong about Doug Harper? Even if he filed for custody, that didn’t mean anything except that he really wanted his son. If Justin were his son, of course.

  She found Rafael outside, watching Justin try to interest Chief in a game of chase. The dog stayed where he was, even though Justin crowed and jumped up and down and rolled the ball.

  “What’s up?” he asked, moving over on the canvas-covered sofa.

  “Rafael, how well did you know Doug Harper?”

  “Very well. I hired him, remember?”

  Actually, she’d forgotten that as soon as Doug painted the comparison with Toby. “I just can’t help wondering if you all gave him a chance. I mean, I was thinking about Toby. He was a good man.. Really. Or at least, Toby would have been a good man if he’d gotten that far. Rafael, what if you just sat down with Doug and talked to him, man to man?”

  “And all this popped into your head for no reason?” he drawled, unconvinced.

  She didn’t like him questioning her. “I told you, Toby’s been on my mind.” She thought he flinched at that, but refused to back down. “Talk to him, Rafael.”

  He stood up and swung Justin into his arms. “We got a letter from his lawyers, Esmeralda. Our lawyers are talking to him. And when lawyers are talking—everyone else stays out of it. Everyone.” He stalked out of the room with Justin slung over his shoulder laughing and waving at her.

  • • •

  Doug sat at a front table, waving at customers who acknowledged him. The sign outside said Bounty Collins, but Esme had never met him as Doug. Maybe he hadn’t been such a creep in the pre-Bounty days.

  He stood when he saw her, giving her an apprehensive smile that made her understand why women liked his looks. He didn’t seem at all threatening. They sat down, and she let him order a beer for her.

  “So … Rafael told me you’ve filed for custody.”

  “My lawyers are handling it. Like I said, it’s a tough call.”

  “But one you made, apparently.”

  “I could stop it.”

  “Really?” She sipped her beer and stared at him. He fidgeted. She could still see through him, she realized. Doug and Bounty were the same after all. Her excitement fizzled, and she realized she’d wanted to impress the Bentons by saving the day for Justin. She was becoming the old Esmeralda all over again—manipulative and needy. Wait. There is no old Esmeralda. She drained half the bottle. “You could help make that happen, Esmeralda. You could help me.”

  “I suggested they were wrong about you,” she volunteered. “I know that my parents tore Toby apart, for no reason. Maybe if you made it clear you wouldn’t take Justin, they’d give you a chance—get to know you.”

  “They had chances,” he said bitterly. “I kept Cody alive, not the other way around. You should see what her life was when she didn’t know who her kid’s father was.” He gave her a smug smile. “Or wouldn’t tell. I’d like to tear your do-no-wrong hubby apart with my bare hands. He could have listened to Cody. He could have listened to me. He could have let us be in love—and she might still be alive.”

  His story echoed in her head, replayed like a song. Or a bad dream. His story was hers. Cody hadn’t lived; neither had Toby. She reached for her phone and drew her mug closer. If he gave her five more minutes of truth, five minutes that made him believe he was sincere, she’d call Rafael and force him to come over.

  He reached out and laid a hand on hers. “He’s still the lucky one, her brother is. Your husband. He’s got you. I’ve got nothing. At best, a kid with no last name who might not ever know who his daddy is.”

  His words pierced her soul. She didn’t know who her father was. Her mother didn’t know, either. How dare he talk about a woman he had claimed to love like that? She stood to go.

  “Stay a little longer. One more beer. Let me tell you a story about how your husband and I met. Maybe you can remind him …” He got up and walked to the bar, coming back with the promised beverages.

  “Here.”
He handed her one, and took the other. “Cheers.”

  She nodded curtly, but didn’t raise her drink. Her cell phone buzzed suddenly, and she looked. Beto’s number. She didn’t answer, but when it kept ringing, she started worrying. Maybe her parents—her aunt or uncle—needed her and couldn’t call. Maybe—

  “Excuse me,” she said, standing. “I need to take this.” And she wouldn’t take it in front of a stranger who knew her brother.

  She could hardly hear his voice, and she walked around the room trying to improve her connection. When the number faded from the screen, she closed the phone. “I’ve got to go.”

  “But your beer,” he protested. “You didn’t touch it. I wanted to tell you—”

  She didn’t sit down, but she lifted it, sipped it, then pushed it away. “Thank you,” she said, and left.

  Her truck was halfway down the block, but the distance kept seeming to lengthen. She felt sluggish and tired, but she’d slept well the night before. She turned to look behind her. Fear made her skin prickle as she thought she saw Beto move into the shadows of a stone column by one of the buildings. What could Beto be doing still in town? Rafael said he’d given him bus fare home.

  She couldn’t help the sudden suspicion she felt. Maybe Bounty wanted to break up the marriage early. Maybe Beto wanted to mete out some further damage. They might be two of a kind, out to hurt her, hurt Rafael—hurt Justin. The scandal they could cause by making her appear to be pursuing Bounty, just days after the wedding, might be something they’d do out of sheer hatred. She tried to walk faster, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Across the street, the door opened as customers came out of Rosita’s Restaurant. She didn’t know the woman, but the other was the game warden—PJ. Even through the dizziness trying to cripple her, she remembered that game wardens were certified peace officers. She held her arms out a little at her sides trying to keep her balance.

  “PJ!” she called, as if he were her new best friend. “PJ, I want to ask you …” His momentary confusion disappeared and he started toward her, smiling, but she saw him looking around carefully, his head moving imperceptibly as he spotted something.