one hot summer
Page 28
Ariel knocked softly before entering the room.
“How are you?” he asked in a soft voice. He bent over to kiss me, then sat on the corner of the bed and held my hand, careful not to disturb my I.V. “I just came from the nursery, Margarita. The baby’s beautiful. She’s already driving the nurses crazy with her screams!”
Ariel chuckled, then turned serious. “Thank you for our daughter,” he said. “I know she didn’t come into the world under ideal circumstances and, believe me, I still feel terrible about that. But thank you.”
Ariel’s sincerity was touching, and I almost weakened and let him off the hook. But I told myself I had to be strong, and to hold on to our agreement no matter what happened.
“I only saw her for a second in the delivery room,” I said. “But they should be bringing her in for a feeding pretty soon.”
As though the nurses had read my mind, a moment later there was a soft tapping at the door. Ariel got up and opened it.
“Mrs. Silva? I’ve brought your daughter to you.”
The nurse pushed the door open wide and came in carrying the baby in her arms; Caridad was wrapped in a pink blanket and wore a little cap on her head. I sat up as straight as I could and held out my arms to receive her.
“She is beautiful,” I said to Ariel as I took off her cap to examine her more closely. “Our little Caridad.”
Ariel frowned. “Caridad?” he asked. “What’s that?”
“It’s her name,” I replied. “And I think it suits her perfectly.”
“That’s not one of the names we discussed,” Ariel protested.
I think it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” I said. “She’s named after our patron saint, Ariel. Surely you don’t object to that.”
Ariel thought for a second, then decided to agree with me.
“Caridad is beautiful,” he said.
I picked up the tiny bottle of milk the nurse had given me, and began to feed the baby with it. I had had physical problems nursing Marti the first time around, and decided to avoid the trial and heartache with Caridad.
The baby took the nipple eagerly and began to suck the milk. Watching her, I tried to banish a mental image of Luther. Now was the time to remind Ariel of the deal we’d cut when I confronted him with conspiring with Mamá to switch pills on me.
“Pay attention,” I told him. “Remember, you’re going to be doing this for her in a few weeks.”
“You don’t have to remind me, Margarita,” Ariel said, smiling, trying to put a good face on the situation. “I’m a quick learner.”
When I first confronted Ariel about the pills, I was prepared to leave him and told him so. The idea of my leaving with Marti was more than Ariel could bear, so we had come to an agreement. Ariel would stay at home with the kids for two years while I went back to work. That was the price for his betraying me. I knew we had more than enough money for him to quit work for a couple of years without affecting our standard of living. I worked the numbers out and was confident of my argument, so he really had no defense.
I pointed out to Ariel that he had wanted this baby so much that he had been willing to lie, manipulate, and coerce in order to bring her into the world. And now he could care for her, and Marti, too.
I took Caridad home from the hospital two days after her birth. She was a good baby, good natured and pleasant. We both recovered from the difficult birth quickly. Family and friends came by to visit, and the house was so filled with flowers it reminded me of Caballero’s, the Funeral Home, when one of the politicos of Miami passed away.
Vivian and Anabel visited daily. Twice Vivian brought her daughter, and I was both pleased and surprised to see the child was behaving herself and minding Vivian. It had not been an easy road, but from all appearances, Vivian seemed content with her role as a mother. Well, at least she was getting her hair highlighted regularly, and she was going in to work, both reliable barometers of her state of mind. Anabel still dressed in her usual outlandish outfits, some combinations so frightful that I was grateful that Caridad’s eyes were barely opened for her visits so she could not see them.
After ten days, on a spectacular, beautiful spring day, I decided we had to pay a visit to a very special lady. So after Caridad had woken up from her afternoon nap, I dressed her in her best baby outfit, and carefully placed her in the car seat in the Escalade.
We drove across the MacArthur Causeway
from Miami Beach to the mainland and, once there, headed south on Bayshore Drive. On the street just north of Mercy Hospital, I turned left toward Biscayne Bay. I drove to the Ermita de la Caridad and parked the car as close to the building as possible.
Even though it was a warm, sunny day, the wind off the Bay was blowing hard. I stepped out of the car and opened the back door to take out the baby, who was sleeping peacefully in her carrier. Gently, so as not to disturb her, I picked her up and held her tight against my body. Carefully, I closed the car door and began walking toward the building.
There was someone inside I wanted to show Caridad to—her namesake. We slowly made our way up the aisle toward where the statue of the Virgin was. As we stood there, I could have sworn I saw the little Virgin wink at me. I winked back. To me, that sign meant that the Virgin knew I was there, and She was with me. I looked down at my baby, and thought I saw her eyelashes flutter as well. My heart began to pound as I reflected on what that meant. It was all I could do to keep from yelling out that I had had a sign from the Virgin.
Not wanting to break the spell, I walked back toward the first row of pews and sat down directly in front of the Virgin. I knew that pew well: it was the same one where I had spent all those long hours consulting with the Virgin. As I looked down at the face of my daughter in my arms, I could not help but think back on the long road that had led us here.
And so, after my one-year leave of absence, I went back to Weber, Miranda, et al., and resumed working there. Upon my return I told my partners I would require a six-week maternity leave, after which I would be returning full time. Maria told me that the possible deal with the other immigration attorney had been quietly dropped, and I was welcomed back into the fold at the firm.
I lay there in the nursery at home, watching Caridad sucking on the nipple of the bottle of milk, amazed at how well things had turned out. Now the only problem would be if Caridad was tall, blond, blue-eyed, and athletic.
Then I would have a lot of explaining to do.
But I wasn’t worried about it. I would just take Caridad to visit her namesake at the Ermita de la Caridad, again. Before then, I would try to brush up on my lip reading.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This novel, One Hot Summer, was a departure for me from the genre in which I am used to writing. Having had six detective novels published before this one (three bodies per book, or your money is refunded), I have to admit, writing a love story presented a whole different set of challenges. For example, I had to train myself to write scenes in which two people were in bed simultaneously and both were still breathing. I have to express my gratitude to several very special individuals who had faith in me and who believed I could accomplish that.
I would like to thank my agents at International Creative Management, Richard Abate in New York, and Ron Bernstein in Los Angeles, for their unwavering support and belief in me. I am very grateful to Rene Alegria, my editor at Rayo, so aptly named, for his unbridled enthusiasm and joie de vivre, which made writing this novel so much fun. Quinton Skinner, as
usual, deserves a special thanks for his special talents, but especially for his uncanny ability to morph himself into yet another Cuban woman.
As always, I owe debt to my family: my mother, Lourdes Aguilera de Garcia; my sister, Sara; my brother, Carlos; and my nephew, Richard, for all the years of encouragement and support they have given me. It gives me great comfort to know I have their backing in my literary efforts.
Sarah, Antonia, and Gabriella, my precious daughters, thank you for blessing me wit
h your presence, for being with me as much as possible, for having stood by me at all times, good or not so good. Every day I am in awe of my unbelievably good fortune, and for the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. Even though I do not have a clue as to what that might be, I am positive that I must have done something right for God to have given you three to me. However, I don’t question too much, I just happily accept my gifts and enjoy them to the fullest.
I have to acknowledge the importance of my friends, recognizing I have been blessed in that aspect as well. Beginning with my childhood friends from Cuba, to the gang on South Beach, all of you plus many others, gracias. Thank you for being my friends, which, I suspect, is not easy at times. For the friendship you have given me throughout the years, I owe you all a debt I can never repay.
But, finally, I must thank the men who have played such an important part of my life, for without you I would not have been able to write a book such as this.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cuban-born CAROLINA G
ARCIA -AGUILERA was a private investigator for more than a decade before becoming a full-time writer. Her previous books include Bloody Waters; Bloody Shame; Bloody Secrets; A Miracle in Paradise; Havana Heat; and Bitter Sugar—all widely acclaimed mysteries of the Lupe Solano series. She has been honored with the Flamingo and Shamus Awards for her books.
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PRAISE FOR
ONE HOT SUMMER
“A female fantasy filled with…good-looking men and unforgettable sex.”
—Miami Herald
“Tropical politics, culture, and identity…are at the center of One Hot Summer.”
—Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel
“A hilarious romance novel.”
—El Nuevo Herald
“Women will love this story. It’s threaded with the emotions many people feel…. A universal story of self-doubt and the way we feel when we fear our lives are traveling in the wrong direction.”
—USA Today
“Garcia-Aguilera
is never funnier than when she describes Cuban Miami and all its social trappings with the accuracy of an insider.”
—San Antonio Express-News
“Garcia-Aguilera perfectly captures the conflicts of these cosseted women. Her tongue-in-cheek humor enlivens the situations she describes with intimate familiarity…. Another crowd pleaser.”
—Publishers Weekly
ALSO BY CAROLINA GARCIA-AGUILERA
BITTER SUGAR
HAVANA HEAT
A MIRACLE IN PARADISE
BLOODY SHAME
BLOODY WATERS
BLOODY SECRETS
Copyright
ONE HOT SUMMER. Copyright © 2002 by Carolina Garcia-Aguilera. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Mobipocket Reader November 2006 ISBN 978-0-06134218-9
The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition as follows: Garcia-Aguilera, Carolina.
One hot summer / by Carolina Garcia-Aguilera.—Rayo 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-06-000980-2
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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