Dr Velascos' Unexpected Baby
Page 5
He thought this was funny? Apparently Dr. Gabriel Velascos wasn’t all the man she’d considered him to be. “What’s not possible?”
“Separate ways. Not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to Lado De la Montaña, too.”
Bella opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again. This couldn’t be happening. Just couldn’t be. Of all the inconceivable coincidences, how was it that this man seemed to be everywhere she was? The clinic, the hotel, the tiny mountain village near where her sister had been killed. “Why? Are you following me? Is that what this is about, Gabriel? You saw the connection I made with Ana Maria and now you’re thinking that maybe I’ll be the one to take her off your hands?” The words poured out before she thought about what she was saying, but she didn’t regret them. Maybe what she’d said was right. Gabriel could have seen her as the solution to his little problem and followed her, hoping she’d be the one to adopt his daughter. For that matter, what was to keep him from getting in his truck right now and driving away, leaving her here with the baby?
“What are you talking about?”
“Giving up your daughter for adoption. I saw the papers from the agency, Gabriel. And after you told me you didn’t want her…”
“My daughter?” He glanced down at Ana Maria briefly, then shook his head. “She’s not my daughter, Bella. Didn’t Dr. Navarro tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Ana Maria is my sister’s daughter. Lynda died in childbirth and the child was given to my mother, who can’t care for her.”
“Which is why you’re so quick to give her up for adoption. Now I understand.”
“You don’t understand anything! I never said I didn’t want her. I said I’d never planned on having a child, that she didn’t fit into my life. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want her, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to give her away.”
“Then what about the adoption brochures?”
“The nurse in Raul Navarro’s office thought it might be a solution for me. That’s all. When Señora Hernandez from the adoption agency came to the hotel this morning I told her that I wouldn’t even consider giving away my sister’s child.”
“You said you were going to go buy several things for Ana Maria, and when you returned you had almost nothing. A baby who’s going to be adopted doesn’t require much.”
“So you thought that because I didn’t buy all kinds of little frilly dresses and baby toys, I was giving her away?” Gabriel huffed out a perturbed sigh. “That’s why you left the way you did, isn’t it? Before I could thank you, before you could say goodbye to Ana Maria. You just assumed that I was giving her up because you saw the pamphlets, and because I didn’t return with bundles of baby things…which I’d left in the truck, by the way.”
“So you’re not…” she started, then stopped, feeling more sheepish now than anything else.
“Look, I’ll be the first one to admit that I don’t know how the hell I’m going to take care of a newborn, or a toddler, little girl or teenager, but giving her up…No! I couldn’t do that. It’s the easiest thing to do probably, but it’s not right.” Impulsively, he reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Thank you for caring so strongly, Arabella. For my sake, but especially for Ana Maria’s. She’s already lost her mother and father, and while I’m not sure what I’m going to do beyond keeping her and raising her…”
“Her father, too?” Like she and Rosie had, when they’d been so young.
Gabriel nodded. “My sister was a second wife, the one who was supposed to bear her husband the son his first wife hadn’t been able to give him. When Lynda died, her husband didn’t want another daughter to feed and his wife didn’t want to raise another woman’s daughter so they simply gave the baby to the priest, who takes care of matters like this. The father’s idea of taking care of matters was giving the baby to her family…in this case my mother, who gave her to me. Adoption is an easy solution for some, but not for me, and I suppose that’s where you got the idea that I wouldn’t keep her.” He paused for a moment, as if choosing his next words carefully, before he continued. “I’m not going so far as to say I want to raise a baby at this point in my life because the truth is, it scares me to death. You’ve seen how clueless I am at it, and I’ll be the first one to admit that. But I’d never give her away to strangers because she is my sister’s daughter, and my sister was so excited to be having her. It’s about family. And Ana Maria deserves better than being tossed aside by her family.”
“I think she already has better, Gabriel.”
“Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? I’m still hoping her father will change his mind after he’s gotten over the initial shock of losing his wife. He’s not a bad man. Just a practical one, in terms of his own life, I suppose.”
“Practical,” Bella repeated. She and Rosie had lived a “practical” life with their guardian…practical in terms of the caregivers he’d hired to look after them, practical in terms of the boarding schools he’d finally sent them to. But a child’s own father giving her to the village priest because he didn’t want her? She didn’t consider that kind of abandonment practical in any terms. More like heartless.
“It’s a different world here, Arabella. To some, a house full of daughters doesn’t have the same worth as a house full of sons. Hector’s part of that tradition and he wanted that son. He probably learned it from the time he could walk, and I’m not sure what, if anything, could force him to change.”
“But you’re from here, and you’re not that way.”
“I live in Chicago. And have done for a long time, and my ways have changed since I left here. If I’d stayed, and never been introduced to different standards, who knows? I could have been just like my sister’s husband, wanting a boy, not interested in another girl.” He finally took Ana Maria from Bella’s arms, stared at her for a moment, then smiled. Only for an instant, though.
Relief, pure and simple, washed down over her for many reasons. First, and foremost, was Ana Maria’s future. It wasn’t so uncertain now. All those bad things she’d thought about Gabriel weren’t true. That was a relief, but the biggest relief was what she’d just seen in the tender way he’d looked at the child. “I don’t think you could be like that, Gabriel. The customs here might be different, but a person’s values…those don’t change no matter where that person lives. You wouldn’t have given away your daughter no matter what. And I owe you an apology for jumping to so many wrong conclusions.”
“No apology necessary. You were only thinking of Ana Maria, and that was nice. So tell me, why are you going to Lado De la Montaña? It’s not exactly a thriving center of tourism.”
“I’m thinking about opening a medical clinic there,” she said, offering no further explanation about her sister. “Or somewhere nearby.”
He blinked his surprise. “Why would the doctor from San Francisco give up her life there to come here?”
“For the same reason the doctor from Lado De la Montaña would give up his life here to go to Chicago. Changes, I suppose. You sought yours one way and I’m seeking mine another. And it’s not definite, so I’d appreciate you not saying anything to the people there until I’ve made my decision. I don’t want them counting on something then being disappointed if I change my mind.” God forbid she should cause more disappointment than she already had. “So now I need to get to Lado De la Montaña.”
“But you’re not going to tell me why you want to do this?”
“It looked lovely in the travel brochures,” she lied. “A nice place to settle down.” He was suffering over the death of his sister, and he’d gotten here in such a quick time after the tragedy. What would he think about her if he knew that her sister had died here a couple of months ago, and she hadn’t come at all? Hadn’t come to stand watch with the other families, in hopes that the bodies would be discovered and returned. Hadn’t come to the memorial service held in the little church
in the village? Or hadn’t placed a tombstone on an empty grave when the wreckage was never found, like the other families had done. She wasn’t proud of all that, but she’d shut down after she’d received word. That’s all there was to say. She’d shut down physically and emotionally, and wasn’t all that far past it even now. So how could someone like Gabriel, who did the right things when they were so difficult for him, ever understand? It was simple. He wouldn’t. So she’d never tell him, which was another of her easy avoidances.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll tell me in your own good time,” he said, taking Ana Maria from her arms. “Especially since it seems we’ll be bumping into each other for a while longer.”
They crept along the winding dirt road at a snail’s pace for nearly an hour, Gabriel in the lead, his truck kicking dust all over her car as Bella followed a respectable distance behind him. He was being overly cautious in his speed, with Ana Maria on board, and she liked that. Gabriel might not be a father in the sense she’d first thought him to be, but the emotional bond was beginning to form. She was glad to see it in the way he looked at his niece when he thought nobody would notice, and the fact that a doctor from Chicago was facing a baby crisis in Peru, and not taking the easy way out in doing it, was quite telling.
That pleased her about Gabriel. In fact, Gabriel pleased her in many ways. Too many ways. She was going to have to be careful about that. Especially if she decided to take a different course with her life. Gabriel wouldn’t live here again. And the odds were she would stay.
Still, it was amazing how two different people suffering such similar tragedies had come together like they had. If she’d been a big believer in the Fates, or destiny, or whatever it was in the universe that created such parallel circumstances, she might had admitted there could be a purpose in bringing together two people who’d come to the same place to reconcile themselves with two tragedies so alike it was almost uncanny. But it was easier, and more practical, attributing it to mere coincidence, then let it go at that. No more thinking about it, no more trying to draw comparisons. Anything else would put Gabriel and herself together in a way she didn’t want to be put. Not with anyone. Especially not with someone like Dr. Gabriel Velascos, who’d lost his heart to a different way of life than what she was about to undertake. Keep it easy, keep her distance. Hide her heart because it couldn’t take another break.
Sighing, Bella set her rental car in Park as they finally reached the village and Gabriel drove on down the road, then she stepped out, not sure what came next at this point in her journey. She was here and she wanted to be, yet she didn’t want to be. This was her destination, though, one of the several villages said to be close to where her sister’s plane most likely had gone down. Nobody knew for sure, since the wreckage was never discovered, but the aviation experts were fairly certain this was the general area, and Rosie had specifically mentioned Lado De la Montaña as one of the places she would consider for a permanent clinic because it was central to so many other areas. Also, the landing strip they were to have used was only twenty kilometers away.
“I don’t feel you yet,” she whispered. “I wanted to, but I don’t feel you here.” For some strange reason she’d thought she’d feel her sister when she got here. Or maybe that’s what she’d wanted. But even as she shut her eyes and blocked out everything, there were no feelings. Nothing overwhelming her, nothing even very sad. Nothing. She couldn’t even cry, which was so strange because she’d thought she’d cry forever once she was finally here. But no tears. “I don’t know how to do this, Rosie. You would have, though, wouldn’t you? You were the one who knew what to do in every situation and I wish I had some of that in me now. But I don’t, and I don’t know how to get through this without you.”
Bella stood there a good five minutes, eyes shut, listening to the quiet surrounding her, trying to picture her sister, trying to remember her voice, remember the parts of their lives together that had been good, but nothing came to her. She was blank, shut off. And the harder she tried to force herself to a place where she could open up to the feelings she wanted flooding in, the more she pushed them away. Further and further away until she opened her eyes and kicked the rental car’s tire just so she could feel the pain…feel anything.
“You are Dr. Burke?” a quiet voice asked from the behind of the car. His accent was heavy, but he spoke English quite well, and she recognized his voice from so many relayed phone calls. A voice that had been her lifeline after the plane crash.
How long had he stood there watching her? Long enough to sense that she was so empty? It didn’t matter, really, what he sensed. He was the priest. If anybody could understand a wounded soul, he would. “I didn’t hear you, Father,” she said, moving her left foot in a circle, hoping to abate the pain she’d just caused herself. “And, yes, I’m Dr. Burke.” She might have extended a hand to him, but he took care to keep his distance. In fact, nothing about his demeanor was intrusive as he smiled at her.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Doctor. After talking with you so often it feels like we’ve already met.”
Father Carlos was a diminutive man, garbed in traditional black pants and a black shirt with white clerical collar. Not young, not old, he seemed more…ageless with his salt-and-pepper hair and his kind brown eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Father. And I’m sorry for the delay. I know you expected me yesterday, but…”
“No apologies, Doctor. This is a difficult journey for you. Something you should do in your own way, in your own time.”
Did he wonder why she’d never come here before? So many of the other families had said things to her, and about her. Harsh things…things she would never forget. They’d called her selfish and unfeeling, said didn’t care about her sister, that she was too busy to bother. They’d said the clinic was Rosie’s idea and that, as Rosie’s sister, it was her responsibility to stand with the others who were grieving their losses. So, had Father Carlos thought those same things? “I appreciate your kindness,” she replied stiffly. “For helping me make the arrangements now, and…and for everything you did back then.” Including delivering the eulogy over her sister, one she’d never heard.
“Well, concerning your arrangements now, I’m afraid I’ll have to take back my offer of a house for you to stay in. It seems the son of the woman who would have given you a room has come home under some very difficult circumstances…a family tragedy.”
“Gabriel?” she asked. “Gabriel Velascos?”
“You know Juan Gabriel?” He arched a speculative eyebrow.
“Yes. We’ve met—in Iquitos. He was there with Ana Maria and I was there being treated for an ear infection. We were staying at the same hotel—in fact, I followed him here when I got lost.”
“Good. Then you understand the situation. It’s very sad, the loss of someone you love, as you well know. So you recognize why it’s important that he and his mother have their privacy at a time like this. But don’t worry. I have a room for you in the church. It’s not as comfortable as staying with Gloria Elena would have been, but you’ll have a bed and a place to bathe. Several of the villagers have agreed to see to your meals, and you’ll find a list of them on the table in your room. We don’t often get visitors, so the people here are more than happy to be hospitable.”
“I look forward to meeting them.”
“Most will speak some English, to make it easier for you. And the children do learn English in the school, so they can interpret, if you need assistance.”
“I speak some Spanish,” she said. Not as much as Rosie had, but Rosie had prepared herself for a life here. It’s all she’d talked about, and worked toward, for a whole year before she’d stepped onto that plane. And now here she was, Rosie’s little sister who had a barely passable command of the language, and no preparation whatsoever, thinking she could make it work. It was crazy. She was crazy. But she wanted to do this for Rosie.
“Good. Now, the church is at the other end of the road. It’s the white w
ooden structure on the left. Nothing like the churches you’re used to, I’m sure, but the door is open and the room is in the back. The sheets are clean, and there’s a fresh pitcher of water by the bed. I’m afraid that’s all I can offer in the way of conveniences.”
“I’m not taking your room, am I?” It suddenly occurred to her that she might be displacing the priest. In which case, she’d find something else. Sleep in the car. Go home.
“No, this is the room we keep ready for poor, wayfaring strangers. I live in the house adjacent to the church.”
Now she was a poor, wayfaring stranger? That just seemed to fit her, didn’t it? She’d become someone without an aim, someone who wanted no better than to be a stranger. The wayfaring stranger’s room would be perfect for her, and five minutes later, after Father Carlos excused himself to go tend to one of the villagers, she saw that it was. No larger than the size of her walk-in closet at home, it was dark, there was no adornment except the bed with a hand-carved crucifix hanging above it, a tiny bedside table, and a small, two-drawer dresser for her clothes. All of it was rough hewn of dark wood, as were the walls and the floor. Yes, this was the perfect place for some self-abasement. Father Carlos couldn’t have made better arrangements for her.
“Father Carlos said you have a meal schedule, and that I’m not to distract you,” Gabriel said, as Bella stepped out the church door. He’d tracked her down to her little hideaway soon after he’d delivered Ana Maria to his mother’s house. “But would you like an escort to Conchata Escabar’s house? I understand she’s next on your list, and I thought you might need an interpreter.”
“It’s across the street.” Bella pointed to the tiny wooden structure all of twenty paces ahead of her. “I have a detailed map with my list.”