Raquel's Abel (14 page)

Abel perused each one, but lingered at the photograph of Isadora Duncan taken in Athens, on tiptoes, her head slung back, and her arms outstretched.

“Apropos that they took the picture in front of one of the Athenian temples, since they say she danced like a goddess,” I said.

“I thought of you as akin to a goddess when I used to watch you working in here.”

I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted he used to spy on me.

“I couldn’t talk to you, only worship you from a distance.” His fair skin was creamy and his eyes the cool color of a forest floor.

“I don’t understand. If you could see me, then why couldn’t I see you?”

He stopped walking.

I looked around my office at all the papers covering every bit of furniture except for the place I left hollowed out so I could pound away on my laptop.

“Let me clear you a place.” I lifted a stack of papers off of an old chair, ignoring the dust that rained down to the floor. “Have a seat.”

He sat down across from me. “Tell me, did you believe in ghosts or spirits or anything like that before you met me?”

“Of course not, there are no…” I almost said a really stupid thing.

“You see? You didn’t believe until your grandmother put the idea in your head, and then you opened your mind for just an instant and you could see.”

“Then why can’t Maria Elena see you?”

He brought his leg up and crossed it over the other. “I am not an expert on ghostly affairs, but I do believe that her soul is tortured.”

“Tortured? Maria Elena?” I never imagined her to be tortured. Although losing a child must have been terrible.

“Some people have an aura about them. I’ve been able to see them since I died.”

“And? Maria Elena has an aura?”

“Well, everyone has an aura, but Maria Elena’s is sort of well, incomplete. Much like your sister’s.”

“Regina,” I repeated. “It’s so unfair,” I said without thinking.

“Yes, it was unfair.” He fiddled with his shoe’s ornate leather flap that covered his shoelaces. “Your father blamed her for the change in your mother.”

“Change in my mother?”

“Even in the hospital, it was obvious that your mother wasn’t the same after the birth of your sister.”

“I never really saw much of my mother after Regina came along.” I hadn’t thought she’d changed, just was dedicated to the new baby.

“Neither did anyone. She locked herself in her room, refusing even to tend to the infant.”

My mother must have been suffering from post partum depression and my father blamed poor little Regina. Understanding this made me feel like I’d found a piece to a puzzle, although it did little good in helping my sister.

“Poor Regina,” I said.

“She must find her own way in life, Raquel. You can only be supportive.”

He was certainly right. I’d found that out from dealing with my sister. She had to find her own path.

He let his foot slide down on the floor. “I enjoy my time with you so much.” He reached over and touched my hand.

“I just want you to stay with me and not disappear like that.”

His cheeks pinkened. “I feel myself getting stronger every time I’m with you.”

“Stronger?”

“More complete, more human, I have even felt hunger when in your presence.” His hand rubbed the back of my hand. He turned it over and lifted my palm to his lips. “You are succulent like a ripe peach.” He buried his nose in my hand.

I leaned over and slid my hands around his neck. “I want to be with you much more often.” I really meant that I wanted him here all the time.

His eyes flashed copper and he gave me a small peck on the lips. “I believe that with your love, I will be whole one day. I feel it.”

I pressed my lips against his. He pulled me tighter and I melded into him. I squeezed, then my arms collapsed. He was gone. “This can’t keep happening!”

Owen was on his way to pick me up, and I had put on that red dress I’d modeled for Maria and Grandmother. I could actually feel that it was a little looser than it had been. The feeling of having power over my size made me feel invincible. I’d never been able to control my hunger nor my size. Dieting caused me to eat more when I’d reached the point I couldn’t take the hunger any longer. Maybe my new feelings about myself would be reflected in my dancing and in my writing.

Owen’s truck came rattling down the driveway. He stopped when he got near the fountain that used to actually have water spilling from the top and down the sides. I’d had to turn it off because it cost me too much in electricity and water.

I walked out in my new dress making sure to strut just for Owen. I’d probably be more lithe on the dance floor since my straps no longer cut into my feet. Even they were thinner.

“You, my dear, are absolutely ravishing.” He got out of his truck and held his arms out. He took my hands in his and swung me around. “Those other contestants will just give up when they see you.”

We were on our way to a competition that would determine whether we’d make it to the next level. I knew we’d make it. Not because I was so good, but because anyone could dance well with Owen leading. He was good enough to make it to the top of ballroom dance, but he was the kind of guy that got comfortable in situations and stayed there. He worked in a restaurant, but he could easily have his own and be very successful. Unfortunately, he lacked the willingness to stick his neck out. With dancing, he trusted me and felt good around me, and for that he kept me as his dance partner when all I did was hold him back.

I looked over at him as he drove down Broad Street to the competition. Sometimes I didn’t know what I’d do without Owen. He was always there for me, and his open and accepting ways were always nice to be around. I, however, didn’t have the time to make it to the top of ballroom dancing. One day he’d need to move on and I’d have to nudge him so he’d make that change.

A few hours later, our names were called and we were in front of the judges. I was doing the Tango for the first time in front of an audience. I followed Owen’s firm lead and I did the tight twists to the best of my ability. At the end, I could see from the expression on the judge’s faces that we’d be selected.

Owen assumed that as I lost weight we’d be practicing every night. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what I wanted.

Just as I expected, we were one of the couples selected to go onto the next competition. I was excited, not for myself, but for Owen. He tittered all the way home. I didn’t want to say anything, but if we continued with these competitions, then we’d reach the point where I’d have to back out and I’d be leaving him right at the moment he’d need a dedicated partner the most. How would I break this to him?

A few days later, Regina showed up. Her dark eyebrows were cupped around her eyes. Baggy shorts hung from her hips and a frayed halter-top was tied haphazardly around her neck. Barry must still be MIA. “He still hasn’t called,” she announced as she walked into the living room. When she got to the couch, she sat, then turned her legs up and put her feet down, shoes and all, on the fabric. “He’s with that insufferable ex-wife of his. She’s why those kids are such brats.”

“What are their names?”

“Mandy and Brandy,” she said sarcastically. “Can you imagine? May-undeee ‘n Bray-undeee. Sounds like a stupid song or something.”

Maria Elena walked in. “Hello, Señora Regina. You seeing how much weight losing Señorita Raquel?”

Regina looked over at me as if she hadn’t even seen me when she walked in. “Yes, you’re looking better.” She took a deep breath as if saying something nice had really taken it out of her.

Then she looked at Maria Elena. “How is my grandmother?”

“She is fine. I sit with her and she talk a lot about her childhood.”

I didn’t know if Grandmother were telling Maria Elena about her childhood here or the fictitious one in Russia.

Regina pulled her feet off the couch and stared at Maria Elena. “What is that?”

“What?” Maria Elena looked down. “This?” She pointed to a pendant.

“Yes. As if you didn’t know what I was referring to,” Regina quipped.

I stood up and walked over to Maria Elena. “It’s lovely.” It was a locket in a very dark-colored gold and it had red and blue painting on it.

“Where did you ever get something like that?” Regina demanded then jumped to her feet.

“Your grandmother gave to me. It a gift.” She clutched the locket tightly.

Regina put her hands on her hips. “That isn’t the kind of thing my grandmother would just give to you.”

“Maria Elena,” I said. “Let me see it.”

She loosened her hold on the locket.

I peered more closely at it. The gold wasn’t the typical fourteen-karat of today. The writing on it was tiny, but it was definitely Cyrillic. “Grandmother gave this to you?” I asked.

“
Si
, she giving it.” Maria Elena covered it up with her hand again.

I was certain that Maria Elena wouldn’t steal.

“Maria Elena, you stole that from my grandmother.” Regina turned to me. “You should fire her this instant and if it’s true that Grandmother is giving things like that away, then she really does belong in a home.”

“I’m sure Maria Elena didn’t steal it. If Grandmother had it, she probably did give it to her.” I was more concerned as to how Grandmother would get a piece of jewelry like that. It certainly wasn’t any of the pieces I’d seen before.

Regina stepped toward Maria Elena holding her index finger like a sword. “You need to pack your things and be out of here.”

“Regina,” I said reaching out for her hand she was wagging in Maria Elena’s face.