Contents
Prologue, Just Before Dessert
01 American Regret
02 The Invasion of Spain
03 Chicago is No Where Near California
04 Marv Brummel, Resort Support Staff
05 An Alliance Between Spain and America
06 America In Retreat
07 Spain Appreciating America the Beautiful
08 Carmen, All Chicago
09 Namaste, I Bow To You
10 The Truth About Spain
11 Anything But Tennis
12 Carmen's Journal
13 The Whine Bottle
14 America Takes A Stand
15 Spain's Feast of Love
16 Two Countries In the United State
17 The Moon's Full Endorsement
18 Spain and the Want for More Territory
19 Spain and America: The Battle of Wills
20 America Speak Easy
21 Lexi O'Connor and Sara Fenmore
22 Spain Surrenders and America Stands Alone
23 Epilogue: American Regret/Spain in All Her Glory
Did You Like This Book?
Acknowledgements
Disclaimer
Copyright
Prologue “Just Before Dessert”
I was blindfolded. I could feel Carmen’s grasp around my upper arm as she guided me through the penthouse, to the elevator, down to the main level and outside. The powerful burst of the mid day sun warmed my skin. The brightness penetrated the abstract design on the material covering my eyes. Without the ability to see, my other senses were heightened. While in transit, I could hear puzzle pieces of chatter from the people around me. There were many voices, a sound mix of different languages combined. The French, English and Spanish dialect I understood perfectly, the Italian, not so much.
I wondered what they thought…Spain being led with an expensive scarf over her eyes throughout the resort like that. I’m betting I was a sight. There was certain to be conversations about it later, there would be wondering, and much guessing as to “why.”
Carmen was so cute, I couldn’t say no to her. She announced, “I have a surprise for you…something I want to share…something that will help you better understand me and where I’m from…but you must wear a blindfold…”
It seemed important to her, so I played along. Such foolishness was but a small price to pay for Carmen’s happiness. I found myself taken with her; so much that I became a willing accomplice to her travesura. (shenanigans)
I could tell by the absence of sound from the beach-front that she was leading me towards the ornate garden behind the resort. The fragrance from the exotic plants and flowers indicated that I had guessed correctly.
“Almost there,” Carmen projected with giddiness.
“Oh the mystery…” I couldn’t help but grin.
“Now sit,” she commanded as I heard metallic legs scrape along the stonework below.
I complied, lifting my hand to remove the blindfold.
“Um…not so fast,” Carmen said.
“You didn’t lead me into a firing squad, did you?” I joked.
Carmen released a burst of laughter. “Don’t be silly.”
I sat there a moment, appreciating the playfulness of her nature.
“Now I want you to open your mouth and taste something that I asked the kitchen to prepare especially for you, especially for lunch.”
“Ants…you’re going to feed me chocolate covered ants…”
“Oh you guessed it.” Carmen said in jest. “I had the kitchen collect them from ant hills throughout the island. Red fire ants, carpenter, giant-prehistoric-like ants…Some were sugar coated, others were caramelized and the larger sautéed in garlic.”
“Yum.” I teased. “I can’t wait!”
I opened my mouth ever so daintily, extending trust and hopefully inviting eatable food. I felt something solid positioned on my lips as the seasonings from the marinara sauce became apparent through my keen sense of smell.
“Now bite, and tell me if you’ve ever had anything so delicious before.”
My teeth surrounded the mass of food. The flavors mixed and danced, igniting my taste buds. There was an interesting base; a crust with a hint of corn meal, a bold sauce, spinach, mushrooms, cheese…and the mishmash was pleasing. The texture seemed perfect, although a bit heavy. There was greasiness from the abundance of cheese, but I wasn’t put off from the culinary assault, in fact, I wanted more.
Carmen pulled off my blindfold.
“THIS,” She said spreading her hand with emphasis above an impressive cheese topped pie, “this is the ultimate Chicago deep dish pizza!” Carmen was beaming with obvious delight.
I grinned in response to her enthusiasm, warmed by the lengths she went to in order to share a part of her culture with me.
“It’s delicious,” I admitted and I meant it too.
Before me, the table was impeccably set including my favorite Merlot that I knew was of great financial sacrifice to Carmen and a hand picked floral arrangement. Without hesitation, she uncorked the bottle and poured two heaping glasses for us.
The waiter stood nearby pending instructions. I imagined Carmen hired him to help her pull this off. She waved him on and he grinned in a knowing way as he furthered himself from our private lunch. I believe he as well as everyone we passed along the way assumed Carmen and I were lovers.
“I didn’t know they allowed people to dine in the garden like this,” I said.
“They don’t.” Carmen admitted through a sly grin. “I had to pull some strings to make this happen.” She batted her eyes then added, “I have my ways.
“Oh.” I said in good humor, “I’m impressed.” “Let me tell you a bit about Chicago.” Carmen began in a voice that indicated a great pride in her city.
I was taken by how animated she became as she spoke of the tall skyscrapers, Lake Shore Drive, the professional sport’s teams, the shopping, museums, and the diversity of people living there.
“You could be a travel agent,” I announced. “You’ve convinced me to visit Chicago; yes…I believe I will too, the next time I make it to the states.”
“Now you’re teasing me,” Carmen replied self-conscious.
“Teasing you? Now why on earth would I do that? I’m just saying you have me convinced. The pizza, the many wonderful sites that Chicago has to offer and surely the people of your city must be astonishing because you’ve been such a gorgeous example.”
“Oh?” Carmen said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “Please elaborate on the gorgeous part…do tell.”
I chuckled, took a deep breath and glanced at her with appreciation. My voice lowered into a more seductive tone.
“Somehow I can imagine an entire city filled with slender, good looking Hollywood types…like you.” I enabled my eyes to linger on the curve of her neck, the plunge of her blouse…and I didn’t stop there. The scanty material of Carmen’s skirt enabled my gaze to trail the smooth of her legs that she had crossed before her.
I lifted a piece of pizza, licked my lips seductively and placed the tip just inside my mouth. Although it was a stretch to use pizza for suggestive implications, I worked with what I had.
Carmen began to fan herself, puckering her lips as if my attempts were on target, teasing me skillfully in turn.
“So you’d really wish to travel there someday?” she asked playing with me…as if such blatant flirting was going to lead anywhere.
“Sure. I love this pizza. It makes me curious as to what other delicacies may be found if one was brave enough to look.”
“Oh…you!” Carmen said, nudging my arm and smiling coy. “You’re so funny!”
; We both chuckled in unison as I realized the best part of lunch was the spicy friendship shared just before dessert.
Chapter 01: American Regret
From the distance of four stories UP, our eyes locked. The canvas shading the platform below revealed her slender outline shadowed in half moon. I stood perched in full sunlight. My nervous fingertips tapped on the rail bordering the deck from the ship above. Everything about Dora's attire suggested she was a European tourist; everything from the elegant scarf she sported to the heels that clicked as she walked along side me in an authoritative gait.
In a gradual acceleration, the engines began to fire imposing a plodding distance between us. The wind picked up in unity with the momentum of the vessel, whisking the last several days into memory. Those moments Dora and I shared flickered in a sudden defiance of logic.
The crisp air and transparent cerulean sky overhead remained unnoticed to most. Hundreds stood on deck with me and yet their forms appeared as ghost-like blurs. The ocean liner picked up many before from other ports, collecting and gathering, as it would continue to do as much along the path towards the mainland.
Gulls swirled and honked in complaint. I became a sardine packed in a solitary can of unpleasantness…an unpleasantness caused by vacation over, "back to the real world."
I knew no one in that can with me, I trusted no one…no one but she who stood on the pier wanting…wanting for me to arrive at a better destination. I aimed to do just that, to embrace the physical and emotional harbor just ahead in my life reinvented.
I unlatched the small velvet box that she placed in my palm just before I boarded the ship. In my grasp was a miniature MP3 player, with a note that read “please listen.” I glanced at her below studying me intently, and then placed the ear buds into my ears depressing play.
The song, “Remember NO Poison My Love” caused an immediate surge of emotion. I gasped as I stood there moved by the sound of the guitars. The lyrics flooded my senses as it all mingled and tied me with recent memories. The voice was heartfelt, a Bonnie singing to her Clyde.
The past week was shared in the most intimate "together" sort of way. I carelessly put it all behind me, wishing to wipe the slate clean as I embraced my new life in transition. Knowing as I was standing there in that moment that I was throwing away a whole lot of wonderful, I choked on a full swallow of deep regret. We were separated now by a railing, water and a dock, but yet I changed my mind wishing to bridge the distance to restore that amazing connection.
I could smell the scent of her perfume from her reluctant farewell. Her hesitation was in obvious protest. It contrasted my calloused assertion to part ways and never look back. I know she wanted more but I needed to go, I had to find my way separate and apart from anyone else. I had plans and Dora did not fit into my new life and my new beginning.
Oh, how I wanted to forget the way she mispronounced every word in the English language. Even though she was educated in a private school in Spain until her days at the university and grammatically spoke English in better form than I did, the thick of her accent butchered everything she said.
Dora's voice was a tug-of-war between charming and annoyance. There was much that was intolerable about her. I despised the way she tapped the teaspoon on the edge of the china when she had finished stirring…coffee, tea, hot Chai….stir, stir, stir, clank, clank, clank. Yes, I was nitpicking. My mind was finding fault in order to cope with the grief for which my heart carried, the grief of losing the one person who for the first time in my life, I had found myself being "real" with.
I wanted to forget how all the male vultures circled her at the club and how they persisted at keeping her glass full of spirits. Let me forget how she wanted no part of their affection or attention. She had the pick of the resort and wanted no part of that sort of companionship for herself.
Dora was traveling for another purpose and that was to grieve after a sudden death in her family. Her objective was to cope by changing the scenery around her and to my great fortune; I became part of the scenery around her.
“Dora.” I’d say if she could hear me. She’d answer I imagined, she’d answer with a thick Spanish accent, white teeth contrasting her olive skin. Her brown eyes would soften as she gazed at me with wonder and amusement, then I imagined her grin would shift to that of mischief as I learned rather quickly over the past week, it often did.
To think when we first met I despised her presence on my vacation getaway. I longed to be alone; I took the trip hoping to reclaim myself after a painful divorce. I needed to be in a self imposed isolation in order to regroup. I wanted some time to find myself, but due to an overbooking at the resort, I was placed in the penthouse that was promised to me exclusively, sharing occupancy with Dora Alavaro. It is only now I understand that such misfortune was but a downpour erasing my own personal drought.
Tomorrow would be another day and for as much as I originally anticipated placing a few hundred miles between us, “in the now” I had to wonder why?
“DORA!” I screamed as the boat drifted me away from port. “DORA…” My voice was a recipe of great panic and regret for a relationship abandoned. I was a coward, too afraid to admit out loud just how much she meant to me in a very short time. The only outcome was to add such regret to my running list of "stupid me."
“Curses,” I muttered under my breath as I plowed my way through the wall of people who stood waving with enthusiasm at the many onlookers below, “bon voyage.”
I zigzagged through to the chained off entrance ramp. “I’ve got to get off this ship!” I demanded to a member of the ocean liner's crew standing idle with a clip board in hand. “I’ve got to get off this ship right now before she leaves and I never see her again!”
The steward shrugged his shoulders and clicked his pen before offering a non-sympathetic reply. “Impossible. There’s no turning back now. We're set for the high seas, so sit back, have a drink maybe, relax and enjoy the ride.”
I stomped my foot, impatient with the world around me. I felt like throwing an outright tantrum, but instead I sprinted down a long hallway to the tail end of the ship. My shoes clicked and squeaked on the shiny surface as I lost footing more than once. The metallic railing caressed my bodyweight as I leaned forward to observe Dora standing motionless among the many people who had begun to disperse. Her hand was shielding the sun from her eyes. Her luggage lay in a heap at her side waiting to be carted to an island transport vehicle.
“Dora!” I screamed once again. “Dora, I’m sorry…what the heck was I thinking in not wanting to stay in contact after this trip?” I began to shake my head no, over and over again in a feeble attempt to convey regret. "I take it all back, I WANT you! ...I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." I knew there was too much noise and all that she could do was guess the message I was trying to convey.
Dora nodded as if she understood despite the racket from the water spray trailing from behind and the many obstacles in our path. Her delicate hand waved farewell to me and my heart sank with an overwhelming disappointment. I took a laborious breath and accepted fate as it presented itself. In that moment I had never felt so alone in all my life. The end of my ten year marriage held nothing to the emptiness within me now.
I always seemed to repel everyone in my life, by choice or by circumstance. Dora was worth holding onto in a “one of a kind, chance of a lifetime” sort of way. If the jump itself would not have proven to be fatal, I would have risked it all to be with her just one last time....but in the end, I had to collect my emotions and surrender to the finality of my decision to part ways forever.
Chapter 02: The Invasion of Spain
The international flight to the states connected with a private twin engine Cessna, which connected to a helicopter, which after many hours of hassle, landed me on Whispering Falls Island. Under normal circumstances, I would have been delighted by the landscape as the private helicopter circled the landing pad, offering a bird’s eye view of ocean, sand an
d beach, but unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances. Nothing mattered to me any longer for everything in my life became a continual shade of gray.
I carried a flask, self medicating from the time I boarded the flight in Spain to the moment my bags were carried into the penthouse suite at the resort. It was then I became more serious about my drinking and in particular, about imbibing with style and taste.
For an entire week I remained at my perch overlooking the great expanse of nothingness. An army of waves marched inward to the shoreline in a hypnotic repetition. Whoosh…..whoosh…..whoosh mixed in with an occasional burst of screams echoing from the pack of gulls battling for morsels of food left behind from careless human visitors.
People appeared as tiny specks of pepper, reclining with invitation to the powerful kiss from the sun god above. Some bathed topless; others remained modest, even though the resort allowed nude sun worship. I ignored the public and my focus remained on the mesmerizing water as it varied from a gentle lull to a violent break. Raging or calm depended upon the tropical wind gusts and the currents below the surface.
I sipped the expensive Merlot and allowed my grief to be numbed. Even if the alcohol provided but a temporary escape; the emotional abandon was very much welcomed.
My twin sister, the only blood family I had left to share my life with was in a car accident two years ago. Laura endured surgery after surgery to piece together what was broken and just when we believed the worst was in the past, a blood clot traveled from her leg to her heart, ending her life instantaneously.
There was no warning and as a result, devastation for those of us who loved her. One moment she was shopping for a new handbag, the next she was laying motionless on the floor waiting to be placed into a body bag. Laura’s death was unexpected but moreover, it was a terrible heartbreak to the twin sister she left behind, which of course was me.
In no time, I withdrew from my position on the board of directors of my father’s company. I inherited the "hot-seat" after he had passed away. His vision of the future, building a multi-million dollar communication empire provided great wealth and opportunity for my sister and me. After her death, I stepped back and set off to find my way as a single as opposed to a “double take” twin.
Falling Whispers, Love & Curses Page 1
