Paper Moon (5 page)

Suddenly he turned to Caroline and grinned. “Love could be waiting but a dance away,
Señora
.”

She didn't even know he'd been listening. “When our Mexican moon shines . . .” he sang in a parody of the old love song, “
ni
modo
. It can't be helped.”

“Could I go with you, Miz C?” Karen peered over the seat edge as if the hope of mankind now rested on Caroline's shoulders. Caroline's tired shoulders.

“Ni modo,”
she sighed with a toss of her hands. “I guess it can't be helped.”

Later, standing with the girls at the hotel window on the fourteenth floor, Caroline stared at the busy street below. The traffic flowed through vendor-lined streets, tangling at intersections with honks of impatience. The magnificent vista of a city set in a ring of sun-dashed mountains, as seen from the plane, was lost here amid the high-rises, but vestiges of the foreign culture were not. The colorful canopies of the street vendors competed with those of the VW Beetle taxi drivers who shouted
“Viva!”
from the lusterless concrete and asphalt beds. Lime greens, lemonade yellow, fiesta red, sunset orange—one was even painted like a ladybug.

The girls wanted to go shopping, and Caroline had gotten her second wind. There were souvenirs to buy for her staff and friends, plus she was eager to put into practice the A's that she'd earned in high school Spanish.

Caroline dragged herself away from the fascinating hubbub of activity below. It could have looked like Philly, or any other big city, but it wasn't. It was Mexico, land of the cactus, eagle, and serpent. And if the ancient Aztecs had searched a continent looking for such a place, then she could skip a nap.

“First we do a room check. Then I'm going to wash my face and pull this hair off my neck, and I'll be ready to go.”

“Room check?” Karen gave Annie a puzzled look.

Annie grimaced. “Yeah, Mom has this thing about checking for bugs . . . especially spiders.”

Karen snorted. “No way.”

“Yes, way,” Caroline told her as she scanned the ceiling for cobwebs. “And if you'd been bitten the day of your first high school dance and wound up in the hospital with an allergic reaction, you'd be looking too.”

Annie lifted the cushion of the sofa bed. “Uh-oh.”

Caroline stiffened. “What?”

“Put a hold on the bug spray, Mom—”

“She brought bug spray?” Karen marveled.

“No sheets,” Annie finished.

Caroline's upshot of adrenaline ebbed.
“No hay problema.
I'll just get my handy dandy Spanish dictionary and order them up. Unless one of you ladies would care to.”

“No way.” Karen stopped the verbal traffic with an extended hand. “Not with my grades.”

“You first, Mom.” Annie's dubious look hardly shouted confidence.

“And we need more cups,” Caroline observed, undaunted. Next to a mini coffeepot were only two Styrofoam cups. She closed the suitcase on the small can of insect spray she'd brought along, just in case.

A knock sounded on the adjoining door to their room, echoed by Blaine Madison's query. “Everything okay in here?”

“Not a spider in sight,” Karen proclaimed.

Caroline groaned. “That's a family secret,” she warned the girl.

Caroline didn't want the world thinking she was a hysterical arachnophobic. She preferred the word “cautious.”

“It's safe with me, Miz C,” Karen assured her. After a little finagling with the flush-mounted handle and deadbolt, Karen got the door open.

Blaine's six-foot-plus frame all but filled the entrance.

“It's just great here, Daddy. Did you see the taxi that was painted like a beetle bug?”

“A ladybug,” Annie corrected, the subject switched to a more acceptable insect.

“We're doing just fine,” Caroline assured him. “How is your room?”

“Just be sure to use the bottled water, even if they do post that the tap water is safe.”

“We're slipping out to get some traveler's checks cashed, grab a bite to eat, and do a little shopping. Care to join us?”

“Take in the sights, absorb the flavors of old and new Mexico.” Karen grabbed her father's hand and danced as far as his arms would allow.

“I've been in Mexico on several projects, Kitten,” Blaine said. His manner suggested to Caroline that he wasn't all that impressed. “You all enjoy. I'll just order up a sandwich and get to work.” He winked at his daughter and peered past her. “Are you sure you're okay with the girls?”

Caroline was poring over the Spanish dictionary, looking for the right word for bedclothes or linens.
“No hay problema
. . . now that my feet are on the ground.” Linens. Caroline made out the tiny print. She cast a reassuring smile Blaine's way as she punched the phone for room service.

A woman answered, drawing her full attention.
“Servicio.”

“Yes, have you . . .
Necesitas a los linos . . . para la cama y tam-bien
una vaca en cuarto numero catorce veinte,
” Caroline finished in triumph.
We need linens for the bed and also a water glass in room
number fourteen-twenty.
At least that's what she thought she said.

But when the woman repeated the request in a mix of uncertainty and incredulity, doubt set in.

“Sheets,” Caroline reiterated.

“Sábanas,”
Blaine prompted. His smile was as unsettling as the housekeeper's tone. “You asked for a tablecloth for the bed.”

“Oh,
sábanas
, no
linos
,” she said, shaking her head as though the woman on the line could see her.

“And
un vaso para agua,”
Blaine prompted.

“Y un vaso para agua.”
Caroline glanced at him. “What did I say?” she mouthed silently.

The corner of his mouth tipped upward. “You said you needed a cow . . . I think.”

“Mother!” Annie declared in half-giggle, half-horror.

“I'm more checked out on travel Spanish than rural,” he admitted, breaking into a full grin.

“What did the operator say?” Karen asked, plopping down on the bed next to Caroline. Her dark eyes, like her father's, danced with delight.

Caroline focused on the floor, head shaking. With a
“Sí, muchas
gracias, Señora,”
she hung up the phone. “So much for high school Spanish.”

“Hey, all you have to do is brush ten years' or so worth of dust off it, and you'll be fine.”

Caroline cut her gaze toward Blaine. “Very gallant, but add a few
or so's worth
to that ten.”

“As long as you have both feet planted on the ground, I have complete faith in you.”

“And so do we,” Annie proclaimed, as she threw herself across the bed.

“Even if I have to sleep on a tablecloth next to a cow,” Karen added, grinning.

Caroline ruffled Annie's ponytail. “You two would do anything to be footloose in Mexico.”

“Have a good time, troops, and don't drink the water or take anything from anyone on the street to carry back to the States.” Blaine closed the door between the rooms, dodging the girls' indignation.

“Like, duh.” Karen rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “Hector already warned us.”

“And Señora Marron, and every other adult on the planet,” the other girl chimed in. “It's like everyone thinks we missed 9-11.”

“Then it's good to know that you remember so well what you were told.” Caroline grabbed her shoulder bag from the bed and struck a tour guide pose. “Let's went.”

CHAPTER
4

After cashing some travelers' checks into colorful denominations of pesos, Caroline led the girls around the block from the hotel, where, according to the moneychanger, there was a KFC. Annie and Karen were starved, but not enough to try the food from the street vendors. Enchiladas, tacos, and corn on the cob served with chili, mayonnaise, and lime, it looked and smelled delicious. But sanitation didn't appear to be high on many of the owners' lists, so Caroline yielded to the plea to find some American food.

The scent of fresh
pan dulce
and roasting coffee beans from the sidewalk espresso café beside them was making her tummy growl in protest, when Karen pointed to a red-and-white sign that seemed to blend into the line of canopies, marquees, and lights.

“There's the Colonel!”

Inside, the restaurant had the same decor as the one in downtown Edenton. With a minimum of fuss, they purchased their meals and found a table.

The potatoes tasted a little strange, most likely the result of being made with heavily treated water. Caroline advised the girls to skip the spuds and slaw in favor of the biscuits. “The last thing we need is Montezuma's revenge.”

“My dad does business here all the time, and he's never had that.” Karen twirled her straw inside her can of soda. “But he carries enough milk of magnesia for an army . . . like a gallon or something.”

“That was one of the suggestions in the pamphlet that Señora Marron handed out before the trip,” Caroline reminded her. She had a travel-size bottle in her own case. “He travels a lot, does he?”

“All over the world, but mostly in the States, Canada, and Mexico.” A cloud settled on the girl's face. “You'd think he'd want to show it to me . . . Mexico City. After all, I am his daughter.”

“Maybe he's just busy finishing up the business from this last trip so that he'll be free tomorrow,” Annie said. She slurped the last of her Coke from the bottom of the can—another precaution. Fountain drinks were not recommended on the tip sheet.

Caroline conveyed her motherly disapproval with a grimace. “You know,” she said to Karen, “we parents don't always get to do what we want to do either. There's this little thing called
earning
money
to put food on the table, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads that comes first.”

“That's what Dad and Nana are always saying. I wish Uncle Mark or Aunt Jeanne had come instead. They're more fun.”

Caroline packed their trash into the large bag their meals had come in. “Maybe so, but I'd cut him some extra slack. After all, your dad didn't get to plan this trip in advance.”

“Yeah, give him a chance,” Annie chimed in. “At least he came.

My dad didn't even bother to tell me he was too busy. No call, no nothing.”

The words squeezed Caroline's heart. As she looked away from the girls, the clock over the soda cooler caught her eye.

“Oh my goodness, it's six-thirty!” Incredulous, she glanced at her wristwatch to confirm it. “We have to be dressed and in the lobby in one hour.”

Fortunately, Caroline and the girls weren't the only ones who had lost track of time. An hour and a half later, they squeezed into the backseat of one of the VW taxis. The front passenger seat had been removed to facilitate getting in and out. Outside, Hector worked with the taxi drivers to sort passengers like cattle to squeeze the most bodies into each vehicle.

“Okay, we need one more,” Hector said, after peeking into their cab. He held up his hands to indicate the narrow width of space allowed.

“Thank goodness I made it in before he started measuring,”

Caroline mumbled under her breath, exacting a giggle from Annie.

“You're not
that
big, Mom.”

Judging from the jabbing hipbones of the girls on either side of her, Caroline was at least older and rounder.

“Think we can squeeze two more in here?” Hector asked.

Standing outside were Kurt and Wally, looking like lost sheep in their idea of evening attire—clean T-shirts and jeans.

“You know Eddie and Rick are with Amy and Christie,” Karen remarked.

“Sure, there's always room for more.” Annie moved over as far as she could. “Who wants to be with those snobs anyway?”

“I don't want to be with all of them . . . just Eddie,” Karen said, unaffected by the look Caroline shot in her direction. “Or maybe Rick.”