A Love for Rebecca (26 page)

In the middle of the meal, taking advantage of a moment of silence, Rebecca spoke. She did so softly, as if she were thinking out loud. “I’m leaving Mario.”

Her mother almost choked on her food, and her father froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Are all of you mad?” exclaimed Elvira. “First my husband and son leave the firm, and now this.”

Rebecca looked at her father. “When did this happen?”

“Enric and I have decided to open our own law firm, and Pablo will be joining us.”

Rebecca turned to look at her brother and saw a twinkle in his eye. Next to him, Pablo calmly continued eating. “That’s wonderful news, Daddy! Congratulations!”

She kept it to herself, but the irony was not lost on her. She had sacrificed her happiness with Kenzie to protect her family’s interests. Now it had all been undone. And the ruinous misfortune her mother had claimed would destroy them in just these circumstances was nowhere in evidence. At most, it would be a momentary setback. Rebecca’s father had enough resources to start his own firm and move on.

A slow and burning flush crept over her face. She had sacrificed Kenzie and their love for nothing. She turned to her mother, intending to unleash the anger that was building in her.

But she refrained. Her mother was visibly distraught, unable to hold back her tears. Instead of yelling “Was it worth it, Mother? Was it really worth it?” Rebecca said nothing. She looked at Sofi, and the answer came to her clearly:
It was worth it for her.

Her father’s voice brought her back to the moment. “Sweetheart, just because the firm is dissolving doesn’t mean you have to end your marriage.

Rebecca felt the tears fighting to get out, but she held them back, a knot forming in her chest. “We have nothing in common,” she murmured.

“You have a daughter,” her mother objected.

“I cannot bear to be with him,” she whispered between clenched teeth, aiming her voice at her mother so Sofi wouldn’t hear.

Elvira kept quiet. There was no mistaking her daughter’s determination, and she didn’t want to make it worse.

“You’re the only one who can make that decision,” her father said. “You know you have a home here. But you should consider it carefully. We will love and support you either way. If in the end you are certain, the first thing you need to do is file a petition for divorce with the court; that will prevent custody issues with Sofi.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I’ll remember that.”

“And the sooner you do it, the better,” Enric pointed out. “Don’t give Mario time to work up a plan that would treat you unfairly. We already know he’s got his own legal resources.”

“Enric, please!” his mother exclaimed. “You act as if you want to go running to court right now.”

“Now that you mention it, I can’t deny it.”

Rebecca gave Enric an appreciative smile. She knew she was blessed with a good brother in him.

“Marriage is a sacred bond. You should take some time to think about it,” Elvira said.

Víctor banged his fist on the table, startling Sofi. “Excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite,” he said as he rose and left the room.

Rebecca followed him. She caught up with him in the garden behind the house. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

He put an arm around her shoulders, and they walked together.

“No, sweetheart, I’m the one who should apologize. I’ve spent years immersed in work, not knowing what was going on with you. With Enric it’s different; we work together and get to talk frequently. But you
 . . .
” He breathed deeply. “For two years I’ve thought things weren’t going well in your marriage, but your mother always said it was nothing, and I allowed her to convince me. Maybe because I didn’t want to believe it. A few months ago, I insisted again and told her I would talk to you if she wouldn’t. Then she told me something
 . . .
”

“What did she tell you?” asked Rebecca nervously.

“It’s hard for me to talk to you about this
 . . .
” He paused to take a breath. “She told me that before you got married, you had an affair with another man, in Scotland, and that Mario knew. She said your marriage problems were because you broke Mario’s trust and now you were suffering the consequences. I didn’t want to believe it, but I stopped insisting she talk to you. The truth is, I was afraid she was right.”

Rebecca stopped in front of her father, full of guilt and sorrow. “What she told you is true, Daddy.”

He looked at the ground.

“But I can’t be sorry for what I did, because I fell in love in a way I never thought possible.”

“Then why did you marry Mario?”

“He threatened to throw you out of the firm if I left him.”

He saw that she was trying to hold back tears, and he embraced her. “You should have told me.”

“I was scared.”

“We could have fixed it, sweetheart. There’s a solution for everything in life, except death.”

“No, Daddy,” she sobbed. “Some things can never be fixed. I’ve lost him forever.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what’s happened and even sorrier I wasn’t able to see it.”

When she went to the kitchen for a glass of water, Rebecca found a tearful Baudelia.

“Oh, child, is it true you’re leaving Mr. Mario? I’m sorry I was listening in. And even though I’m so sad for little Sofi, I have to say I’m happy for you.”

“It’s OK, Baudelia.”

Baudelia quickly went to the corner of the kitchen and got her purse from the hook where it was hanging. Returning to Rebecca, she held out a set of keys.

“These are to a small apartment I have in the city. It’s tiny and nothing fancy, but if you need a little time for just you and the little one, you can take them. You take all the time you need.”

Rebecca accepted Baudelia’s offer. She didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to under the same roof as Mario, and she still wasn’t comfortable living in her mother’s house. She’d have time to look for a nice place for Sofi and herself when the initial dust had settled.

She gave Baudelia a kiss and put the keys in her pants pocket. Then she went back out to the garden.

Inés and Sofi were beating the heat with a dip in the pool, while Enric and Pablo laughed at the girls’ antics. Elvira had retired to her bedroom, where, Rebecca supposed, Víctor was trying to talk some sense into her.

Rebecca went over to her brother. “How did it happen? The thing with the firm.”

“There was a ‘drag along’ clause in the partnership agreement.”

“A what clause?”

“To put it simply,” Pablo explained, “it means that if one founding partner leaves, everyone leaves, and the partnership is dissolved.”

“That’s why Mario was so agitated last night.”

“I’m so glad you’re finally leaving that jerk,” Enric said.

Rebecca hugged her brother and smiled wryly.

TAKING STOCK

That summer proved special for Rebecca. Finally, her life was moving forward. Since she’d spoken with her father, years of frustration had melted away. She felt renewed, inside and out. Rebecca more fully acknowledged the seriousness of her depression now that she was climbing out of it. Her steps, at times, were still small and uncertain, but her confidence was growing daily.

What pleased her most was finding time to spend with her friends again. With an excitement she hadn’t felt for a long time, she made a reservation for a short stay in a big vacation house in Arbúcies, near Montseny Natural Park. It would be the perfect location for a reunion with her old friends.

They were memorable days. Berta’s twins had just learned to walk. Like tiny tornadoes always in motion, they had the innate need to explore, requiring constant attention. Fortunately, Inés had come along and was happy to entertain the twins. And Sofi was thrilled with them, because for once she wasn’t the youngest in the group.

Leaving a cell phone with Inés, the three friends took advantage of every moment the children were napping to stroll through the village together. It was a lovely place. As they walked along a tree-lined avenue in the intense heat, Lola alone scorned the shaded portion of the sidewalk, preferring instead the harsh rays, like a lizard in the sun.

“It feels so good,” she said, turning her face upward.

“Lola, it’s a hundred degrees in the shade,” Rebecca warned. “You’re going to get a sunburn.”

“It’s just for a minute. Besides, I put sunblock on as thick as butter—they would have to be very determined rays to get past it.”

“How are things going in Edinburgh?” Berta asked. “Do you miss Barcelona?”

Lola inhaled deeply. “I always knew I’d leave Barcelona, but I’m not sure Scotland’s where I’ll settle either.”

Rebecca looked at her curiously while trying to remain under the shade of the trees. “Really?”

“Edinburgh’s small, and my jobs are too. I’ve sent my résumé to newspapers in other countries.”

“And if they offer you a job?” Berta asked.

“I’ll spread my wings and fly.” She stretched her arms out to demonstrate.

“You’re kidding,” said Rebecca. “What about Rory?”

“I hope he comes with me.”

Berta furrowed her brow. “You want him to leave everything to follow you around the world?”

“I did for him.”

“That was different.”

“I don’t know why I tell you two my plans when all you do is criticize them.”

They continued their stroll in silence until Rebecca let out a long, audible sigh. “Did you ever think our lives would be like this?” she asked them. “Mine’s been a complete failure, but what about you two? You’re happy, aren’t you?”

Berta squeezed her arm gently. “You haven’t failed. You have Sofi, who is wonderful; you have your job. Just because your marriage ended doesn’t mean your life has. Besides, look at your hand.”

Rebecca didn’t understand.

“That silver ring you still wear is a clear reminder that you’ve experienced something truly wonderful, something many people never will.”

“But I lost him.”

“Oh, Lord, cheer up,” Lola said. “You’re not even thirty years old. You’ve got plenty of time to fall in love, get married, and get divorced several more times.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.”

They were quiet. Lola, her cheeks burning, finally moved into the shade.

“Things are good with me,” Berta said. “I don’t have a job, and I don’t think I’ll look for one until the kids are older, but I’m content.”

Lola moved between them and draped her arms over their shoulders. “Well, I thought by the time I was thirty, I’d be this hot-shot correspondent who roamed the globe going after the big stories. One article a week in a newspaper with hardly any readers isn’t what I expected.”

“But you have Rory,” Rebecca reminded her.

“Yes, I have Rory, but lately my job’s put me in such a crappy mood. And to make matters worse, Rory’s always pestering me about having a baby. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.”

They all stopped at once. Lola shrugged when they looked at her.

“But it’s normal to want a baby,” Rebecca said.

“Why? Why is it normal to get married and have babies? So
 . . .
what? The ones who don’t have this urge are abnormal? I can’t think about having kids now. Besides, I already told Rory my maternal instinct was so green, a sheep ate it.”

They laughed at Lola’s off-the-wall humor. It wasn’t so much what she said but how she said it, hamming it up, imitating a sheep.

“And what did he say? Berta asked.

“That if my maternal instinct had been eaten by a sheep, it certainly wasn’t a Scottish one.”

They burst out laughing again. “Well, from now until you’re forty-five,” Berta said, “there’s plenty of time for you to have ten kids.”

“Perish the thought,” Lola said and rolled her eyes.

MATT

Barcelona

March 21, 2013

Rebecca shuffled papers on her desk at school. She’d spent the past hour preparing for tomorrow’s class. Shunning the traditional approach, she preferred creating a collaborative space for promoting community among her students. Drawing from the required curriculum, she presented a theme, and then her students were encouraged to develop it through group work. So far the results had been positive. And in view of the motivation and performance of her students, her methods received high praise from the headmaster. She took pride in her professional life.

The radio was on. Rebecca was listening to a report about a referendum on independence from the United Kingdom that the Scottish prime minister, Alex Salmond, had announced Scotland would hold in September of 2014. Rebecca was pleased the citizens would have a chance to decide the issue for themselves. She thought about Kenzie and how he’d be pleased too. Would Scotland opt for independence? They’d have to wait a year and a half to find out.

Rebecca checked the time; Sofi’s swim lesson was about to begin. Rebecca walked to the outdoor pavilion where after-school activities were held. On the way she ran into Matt, one of the English teachers. Matt had arrived in Barcelona a year ago looking for a teaching job, and it wasn’t hard for him to find a position. He was from London and had several master’s degrees, and women generally found him irresistible. Rebecca knew he liked her company because they could speak in English. But she suspected his interest went a little further than that, so she wasn’t overly surprised when he asked if she would join him for dinner the following evening.

Seated at a table at Sant Pau’s, Rebecca was enjoying conversation with Matt. It was her first date since her divorce, and the evening was going well. Rebecca had been in no hurry to have male company. But Matt—pleasant and handsome, his longish brown hair a bit unkempt—gave off just the right touch of unself-consciousness for Rebecca’s taste. Unexpectedly, he was a bit clumsy—endearingly so—and he made up for his lack of coordination with a great sense of humor. He had just finished an amusing joke when he smiled at Rebecca and told her how beautiful he found her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, a shadow crossing her face for an instant at the memory of another man who had said the same thing upon meeting her.

“I should’ve asked you out months ago, but I thought you’d say no.”

“Months ago I might have.”

“What changed?”

“Me.”

“Well, here’s to change.” Matt raised his wineglass, and Rebecca followed suit, marking what turned out to be the start of a new beginning.

They went out frequently after that evening, enjoying each other’s company: long walks, good conversations, meals out, movies. They had fun together. One night he invited her up to his apartment. And she accepted. She liked Matt, and it had been so long since she’d felt anything. Her desire for a man to touch her, to make love to her, had intensified lately. It had been a year since her divorce but three since she’d been with a man. Before she left Mario, she had discovered he was having an affair. She had kept it to herself; it hadn’t bothered her. On the contrary, it had meant he never forced an intimacy she didn’t want.

Her body was set free again in Matt’s arms, and during the months following that first encounter, she felt strangely happy, wondering if perhaps she loved him.

Until one night.

Matt considered himself an excellent cook and had promised to prepare the most amazing dinner of all time for her. When Rebecca rang the bell to his apartment, he greeted her with a big smile. The smell of sautéed onions hung in the air. Matt was wearing a black apron over his casual clothes, his hair characteristically disheveled.

She watched him as he readied their roast chicken dinner for the oven. He stuffed the bird with a chestnut-and-sage dressing. As he coated it with butter, Rebecca looked on in resignation, sighing at his selection of butter over olive oil.

With the chicken roasting in the oven, Matt went to shower and change. She poured herself a glass of red wine, a Chapoutier. She preferred a Spanish Ribera del Duero or a good red from Toro, but with her first sip she savored the decent French he had chosen. She wandered around the room and tuned in to a radio station. She felt comfortable and relaxed. Matt had turned off the bright overhead lights and created a warm ambiance with lamps and candles. She poked through the books on the shelves and found that he was a fan of Conan Doyle and Wilkie Collins. She took out a book by the latter and flipped through it. It was a well-preserved 1964 edition of
The Woman in White
. She read the summary of the story, which turned out to be a mix of impossible love, wild ambition, deceit, and betrayal.

Typical,
she thought. She sipped her wine and allowed herself to be carried away by the soft guitar music on the sound system. A framed photo of her and Matt, in a prominent spot on the bookcase, caught her attention. Rebecca remembered him taking it with his phone. She smiled. Next to it was another photo showing an adventurous Matt posing in front of a pagoda somewhere in Asia.

She turned away from the bookcase and toward the beautifully set table, listening to the song playing in the background.
So romantic,
she thought, swaying with the melody.
Made for a night with your lover
. Then Rebecca recognized the lyrics and was transported back to the enchanted evening in the forest and her promise to her beloved.
For you, Kenzie MacLeod, I would forget the entire universe
, she whispered.

The wineglass almost slipped from her hand. Matt entered the room, and Rebecca turned to him, shaken. She didn’t notice how attractive he looked in his white shirt and good black pants.

He could see something was wrong. “What is it?”

She put a finger to her lips. The song filled the silence in the apartment.

“You like it?” asked Matt. She nodded, but he saw her tremendous sadness. “Does it have a special meaning for you?”

“Yes, but it was a long time ago.”

“Snow Patrol,” Matt said. “It’s a group from Northern Ireland. This song, ‘Chasing Cars,’ was a hit for them a few years ago.”

It wasn’t his fault, nor was it hers. Rebecca simply couldn’t keep moving forward. For a time, Matt tried hard to make their relationship work. He knew something in Rebecca’s past was tormenting her and asked her more than once to tell him about it. But she always refused, saying it was something she had to work out for herself.

In the end, Matt gave up, recognizing the futility of trying any longer to fight whatever was haunting her. One afternoon he let her know he’d met someone. Rebecca wasn’t hurt. She thanked him for his friendship and wished him luck, and they parted ways.

What grieved her most was thinking she would never fall in love again. Matt was attentive, affectionate, and kind. But a few simple song lyrics had been enough to change everything.

How long would she be a slave to her memories?

December was a strange month. Mario asked to see her regarding something about Sofi. She had him come to her house. Feeling a little apprehensive, she’d asked Enric and Pablo to be there so she wouldn’t be alone with him, especially in case he brought up any legal issues that could affect her daughter.

Mario looked tense when he came to her door, but Sofi greeted him with her characteristic cheer, and he relaxed. Enric and Pablo’s presence, however, put him on edge again, and he asked to speak to her alone. He claimed that what they needed to discuss didn’t require the assistance of legal experts. She acquiesced but asked them not to leave; she didn’t trust Mario and wanted them nearby. Sofi was thrilled to have her two uncles to herself, and they went with her to her bedroom to wait.

Rebecca invited Mario into the living room. She sat across from him, keeping a distance, prepared to listen.

It was even more distressing than she’d anticipated. Her ex-husband had accepted a job with a law firm in Brussels. He was moving to the Belgian capital, which meant Sofi would have to travel there to spend her planned Christmas vacation with him.

The news unsettled Rebecca. Mario had visitation rights, but it saddened her that her daughter would be so far away now when she went to be with her father. She sighed. There was no point in complaining. The two of them worked out a new schedule for visits, and then they both relaxed a little.

Before leaving, Mario informed her he wouldn’t be going to Brussels alone. “I’ve been seeing someone for a while now,” he said.

Rebecca was surprised, but she didn’t let her face show it. “Is she the one you were seeing while we were married?” Mario looked at her uncomfortably. “Please, don’t tell me you thought I didn’t know.”

Automatically, he made some practiced gestures with his elegant hands—movements intended to add emphasis to his arguments. But he didn’t answer her question. Instead he said, “I just want you to explain to Sofi. Julia will be living with me.”

“Fine,” she responded curtly.

“I
 . . .
I plan to marry her.”

Rebecca shrugged. “It’s your life. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes, well
 . . .
Julia wants a Catholic wedding.”

“You can’t get married in the Church again!” exclaimed Rebecca.

“I’m going to the ecclesiastical court to request an annulment of our marriage.”

This time she couldn’t hide her shock. “And what are you going to claim? That I forced you to marry me? Come on, Mario.”

“I’ll say whatever I have to. Canon law has a variety of reasons for annulment. And don’t worry; I won’t involve your family. I’ll take full responsibility.”

She smiled at this irony. “You must be very much in love.”

“I am.”

“And how does it feel, Mario?”

“What do you mean?”

“This love you feel for her.”

Even though he maintained his reserve, he managed a wan smile. “It’s special.”

“It’s taken you a long time to fall in love. I fell in love once too, remember?”

Mario’s face turned dark. “Don’t start. You know we made the right decision.”

“Right for whom?”

“For both of us.”

“I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but I want you to know something. I never thought I would love anyone the way I loved him. And I never imagined I would lose him. All the years you and I were married, I never stopped thinking about him. Even when we made love, I imagined his hands touching me, his mouth kissing me. It was the only way I could stand it.”

“Be quiet! Out of respect for our daughter, if nothing else.”

Rebecca exhaled in frustration, and her eyes filled with tears. “It’s precisely out of respect for her that you should think long and hard about what you’re planning to do.”

“I’ve made my decision. I didn’t come here to ask your permission.”

“Do whatever you want.” She got up from her chair and indicated the way out.