Raquel's Abel (15 page)

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Authors: Leigh Barbour

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BOOK: Raquel's Abel
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Maria Elena’s face had darkened and her eyes were squinting. That must have been her way to fight back tears.

“Don’t you see?” Regina jerked her hand back. Her black eyes were blazing. The pathetic thing was that her anger was really for Barry and not for me or Maria Elena. “Grandmother needs to be in a home.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Abel approaching, then he was gone. I looked around for him.

“What are you looking at, Raquel?” My sister turned around then looked back at me.

“Nothing,” I looked back at her.

“The ghost,” Maria Elena whispered.

“You crazy thing,” Regina said to Maria Elena. She turned her wrath back at me. “You see, Raquel, that woman needs to be out of here and away from Grandmother.”

Abel was walking toward Regina with a big bowl of salad.

“The salad moving…” Maria Elena pointed to Abel.

Suddenly, the big bowl was on Regina’s head. Lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers streamed down my sister’s face and chest. Big chunks of the salad clung to her shoulders.

She slung the big plastic bowl to the floor making it bounce. “What have you done?” Regina first pointed her finger at Maria Elena, then at me.

Abel stood in the corner, his arms crossed with a satisfied grin on his face.

“No me, Señora, I no do that.” Maria Elena’s eyes resembled big black olives and she shook as if stifling back a laugh.

“Well, one of you did it,” Regina accused.

I stared at the salad dressing dripping down my sister’s face and staining her halter-top. “You know I didn’t do it. You were looking right at me when it happened.”

“That ghost.” Maria Elena shook her head.

“Ghost.” Regina’s voice sounded like cold steel. “Trying to blame it on a ghost, why not a leprechaun or a fairy?”

Abel rolled his eyes at the ceiling and gave me a straight-lipped smile.

I glared at him.

Regina wiped the salad off her hair, then tried to grab her purse with her greasy fingers, but it kept slipping out of her hand. Finally she cupped it then headed for the door.

I chased her out into the foyer. “Regina, at least clean yourself up before going.”

“I don’t want to spend another minute in this house.”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Don’t be mad?” She outstretched her arms. “Look at me.”

The salad dressing had left oily splotches all over her halter-top and tiny pieces of lettuce seemed glued to her arms.

“I’m calling nursing homes today. I’m finding a place for her. Barry’s a lawyer. I’ll
make
you put her in a home.” She tried to grip the doorknob, but her hands couldn’t turn it.

Maria Elena ran into the foyer with a rag in her hand. “I opening,” she said and opened it for Regina.

Regina stepped through and slammed it as hard as she could.

“She getting a lawyer?” Maria Elena asked.

“Don’t worry. As soon as she finds a new boyfriend or gets back on good terms with Barry, she’ll forget all about this.” I looked at the locket Maria Elena had on.


Si
, Señorita, she giving it to me.”

I nodded. “You better clean the salad up. It might stain the carpet.”

“Si, Señora.” She scurried into the living room.

Then I remembered Abel. “Where are you?” I called out.

He materialized in front of me. “At your service.” He bowed. He had my father’s jacket on again which right now made me even madder.

“You really shouldn’t have treated my sister like that.” I tried to keep from giggling at the memory of salad being piled on top of her head.

“She was calling Maria Elena a common thief and was threatening to send your grandmother to an asylum.”

“Not an asylum. A home. A nursing home. A nice place where she just might be more comfortable.”

“Reminds me of the terms my uncle used when he deposited me in that orphanage.”

“Can’t you see this is different?” When Abel didn’t like something, he tried to manipulate things so he’d get his way. Just like when he tried to keep me from getting the surgery.

“How is it different? A person belongs with their family and not in some institution.”

“Maybe your heart is in the right place, but Regina and I are her granddaughters and we will make the decision.”

“How can I stand by and allow her to send that sweet little old lady away?” His eyes were calm and his voice sarcastic.

“She thinks she’s Anastasia Romanov.” He needed to accept what Regina and I were up against.

“And do you know that she’s not?” His eyebrows lifted and he smiled.

He was making fun of me. “I know she’s not. She isn’t Russian. She was born right here in Richmond, Virginia.”

“That’s what you assume.”

“Wait.” I held my hand in a halting gesture. “Let me get this straight. You think my grandmother is Princess Anastasia?”

“I have learned that many things are possible in this world.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “Have you ever heard her speak a word of Russian?” My voice was really loud now and I imagined Maria Elena quaking in the next room.

“I have never heard her speak Russian, but I’ve never heard her speak Spanish or Italian either,” he said in a mocking tone.

He was so stubborn. “You’re just being obstinate. My Grandmother is as American as apple pie and she’s never set foot in Russia.”

He tilted his head and grinned at me. “You don’t honestly think that you know all of the secrets of the universe.”

“My grandmother suffers from some sort of dementia, and you’re acting like it’s a mystery.”

“Have you ever given any thought to the possibility that your grandmother could be Anastasia Romanov?”

I felt so angry I could cry. It felt like he was making fun of my grandmother’s delusions.

He joined his hands together in front of him. “Perhaps your grandmother is talking about things you couldn’t possibly understand.”

I felt my entire body quake with anger.

He continued with a satisfied expression on his face. “You can’t actually think your grandmother would be better off in one of those places with no family, no friends, just left to rot like an animal that’s met its demise in the wild.”

“If Regina and I decide to put her in a home, it’s none of your affair.”

He took a deep breath and his eyes widened. “I will not hear of it.” He clicked his heels together. “That lovely woman won’t be expelled from this house.”

“Wait a minute. It’s
my
house and she’s
my
grandmother.” I pressed my lips together. My skin was probably bright red.

“You, my lady, are in quite a foul mood.” He was so handsome and that’s what was driving me crazy.

My teeth clenched. “If I’m in a foul mood it’s because of you.”

He lowered his shoulders and smirked at me.

He seemed to enjoy making me angry. “Abel Rollins, I want you out of my house. All you do is meddle and...and...and tease me.”

“I have never teased you…” His eyes narrowed and I saw him dissipate.

“Good, and don’t come back!” I hollered, hoping he heard every word.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

I searched through the papers in my office. I’d left it right on top of my work area, but it wasn’t there. Where was that list? The day before I’d talked with the editor and she’d given me some feedback on the first few chapters of my biography. I needed that list of changes to make. I should have taken the notes on my laptop. Abel didn’t know how to delete things in there—yet. But hiding a piece of paper would be easy for him.

After he’d taken my car key the first time, I made another copy and attached it to a magnet that I kept underneath my car. He could hide the keys I kept in my purse all he wanted.

“Good ma-a-ahning.”

I looked up to see my grandmother wheeling into my office.

“Good morning, Grandmother.” I hurried over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Tell me, Dear. What have you done to get that Abel Rollins so upset?” Her green eyes angled up at me and her upper lip stretched down the way she used to do when I’d misbehaved as a child.

“That man is so arrogant. He thinks he can tell me what to do.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I already missed him, but I wouldn’t think about that. He just thought he could pop in and out of my life as he pleased.

“You just have to learn how to handle him.” She gave me a smile that looked devilish on her elderly face.

“How do you know he’s so upset?”

“Why, he’s right there beside you, can’t you see him?” She pointed to my left side.

My heart jumped. I turned my head and looked all around. “He’s not there, Grandmother.” If he were there, I’d have demanded he give me my paper back.

“How could you not see him, dear? He’s standing close enough for you to hear him breathing.”

“I’m glad I can’t see him,” I said in a loud voice. “I don’t need someone meddling in my affairs.”

There was a loud bang behind me. I looked down to see a glass paperweight rolling across the floor.

“Throwing things will not make me change my mind,” I called out to nothingness.

My grandmother reached her frail hand out and caught mine. “My dear, a man needs to feel like he’s in charge.”

“I live in a different era than you, Grandmother.”

She let out a deep laugh. “I don’t believe men have changed in the last thousand years.”

I heard a whooshing sound and papers fell to the floor all around me. “What is he doing now?”

“He charged out into the hallway. He’s much too proud to sulk in here.”

“If you could see him in here, then why couldn’t I?”

She squeezed my hand. “Be patient with him.”

“How can I be patient with a man that hides from me?”

“I don’t believe that he intentionally hides from you.”

“Then why was he letting you see him and not me?”

She grabbed my other hand and leaned forward in the wheelchair. “I believe that deep inside he’s scared, and he can’t be here for you all the time until he feels his love is returned.”

I gently pulled my hands back from my grandmother. “I appreciate your trying to help, but I am too liberated a woman to accept a man’s trying to run my life.”

“Every man needs to feel like he’s in charge, even when he isn’t.”

My grandmother was from another generation. How could I make her understand that in today’s relationships, the man and woman were equal?

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