Raquel's Abel (4 page)

I trembled, wondering what he’d do next.

With his hands locked behind him, he started to walk around me eying me as if I were a fine racehorse he was thinking of buying.

“What are you doing?” I might go down, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I turned to face him. “Whe-where did you go?” The hallway was empty. Had he entered one of the rooms? I tried a few doors, but they were locked as always.

“Maria Elena,” I screamed and ran for their wing.

She wheeled my grandmother out into the hallway.

“Why you yelling?” she asked, staring at me as if I were a lunatic.

“You look lovely, my dear,” my grandmother smiled. “That dress does you justice.”

“Never mind that. A man is in the house.” I raised my hands up. They didn’t react. “Did you hear me? A man!”

Maria Elena’s eyes got big and round. “Where the man?”

“I don’t know. He was right down there. I was talking to him and then he was gone.”

“Was he fair-haired with piercing dark eyes? Was he very handsome?” My grandmother gave a deep giggle.

I thought back on the man. His voice had been cultured as if he really knew how to speak eloquently. In fact, thinking about him sent a thrill from my toes to my head.

“Was he wearing your father’s smoking jacket?”

I stared at my grandmother who looked like she was ready to laugh out loud.

“That’s Abel Rollins,” she declared with delight.

Maria Elena looked at my grandmother then back at me. “You was seeing him, too?” Her mouth dropped open as I nodded my head. “Oh, no,” she gasped.

Chapter Two

I was still shaking when I got into Owen’s old pickup truck.

“What’s the matter?” Owen said when I slammed the rusty door shut. “Looks like you’ve seen yourself a ghost.”

I slid my eyes my gaze over to him. His dark red hair was combed into a mini pompadour. “You don’t know how right you are.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me none if that ol’ place is haunted.” The rusty truck made all kinds of ghastly sounds as he drove down the half-mile driveway then out onto River Road.

Visions of the man Grandmother referred to as Abel Rollins paraded through my mind. I felt a tingle inside. How could I be turned on by a ghost?

“Hope that ghost was tall, dark, and handsome?” Owen was always between boyfriends, which was good since each one was always rotten to the core.

Abel’s fair hair had been parted in the middle and combed back in that way you always see in old photographs. “His eyes
were
dreamy.”

“I tell ya, these days I’d even settle for a ghost, girl.”

“It’s not funny. I was scared to death.”

“Probably just a figment of your imagination—you know, wishful thinking.”

It was hard to be serious with Owen. “I’ve got big news.”

“Bigger than your ghost?” He angled his head down, his dark blue eyes blinking at me.

“I’m almost positive I’m going to do it.” I took a deep breath. “The gastric bypass surgery.”

He splayed his long fingers across his chest. “Raquel’s going to be a lean mean dancing machine.”

I felt little chills run through me just thinking about being slender.

“You know what this means.” He took his eyes off the road and gave me an impish smile.

“Yeah, if I do it, I’m having major surgery.”

“Next year, we can be in one of the competitions.” He smiled so wide I could see which of his molars were missing.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you from the big competitions because of my limitations.”

“Oh, Raquey-el, don’t talk like that. You’re one of the best dance partners I’ve ever had. I can just see you doing a tantalizing Tango with a rose in your mouth.”

I imagined myself doing those quick, tight-legged, hip-twisting steps that were impossible now because of my girth.

“We are going to knock their sequined socks off next year.”

“You know, Owen, you don’t have to be so loyal. You could’ve won a competition long ago if you hadn’t insisted on dancing with me.”

“So many of those dancers are such bitches.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

He was just the loyal type. We’d hit it off a few years ago and had become fast friends. He didn’t want to hurt my feelings by leaving me in the dust.

We walked across the parking lot toward the restaurant. A couple of waiters were obviously taking a break beside the front door. “Sorry, we’re all booked up,” one of them said as he stamped out his cigarette.

Owen pushed his chest out, making himself look like a bantam rooster.

The other waiter said under his breath, “And we ain’t got enough food for that one.”

I heard every word and tried to ignore it. Owen’s hearing wasn’t that great since his father used to box his ears when he was a kid. I looked at Owen, afraid he may have heard it. He may have seemed like a stereotypical gay, but being from coalmining country, when provoked he turned right back into an Appalachian hillbilly, ready to take anyone on.

“We are the dancers.” Owen spread out his arms so they would notice his sparkly white top with a wide collar. His black slinky pants tapered out into wide bells.

“A fruit loop and an elephant are going to entertain us,” whispered the same one who’d spoken under his breath before.

Again, I searched Owen’s freckled face for a reaction. Thank God he hadn’t heard either comment.

Luckily, the maitre d’ stuck his head out the door and recognized us. “Come on in, we’ve been waiting for you.” He ushered us backstage where we waited in the wings for the first half of the play to finish.

“Why wouldn’t those two just let us in?” Owen shook his head. “Some people are so danged ru-u-de.” He angled his eyes at me. “But I’m most intrigued by this ghost of yours.” He winked.

Just thinking about him caused my skin to warm.

“My goodness, must not have been Casper by the way you’re blushing.”

“Don’t be silly. There are no such things as ghosts.”

“I don’t know about that.” He waved his nicely-manicured finger around. “Granny Mills, on my father’s side, says a Civil War soldier shows himself on her staircase from time to time.”

His grandmother was probably as loony as mine, but I didn’t want to say that. “This one seemed awfully flesh and bone to be a ghost.”

“Well, if he’s hot and he’s haunting you, just go for it, girl.”

I admired Owen, the way he enjoyed life in whatever form it came.

A few minutes later, the actors filed past us from the stage and the MC introduced us.

The music started up and we whisked on stage. I followed Owen’s very masculine lead into a sumptuous Latin salsa. At first we heard a few catcalls, to be expected, even in a high-dollar supper club. Then, as my feet made quick steps, adeptly showing how the sexy rhythm should be performed, the audience fell silent. As we moved in time to the beat and I followed Owen’s strong arms into tight pirouettes and extended twirls, I left the fat Raquel behind. I savored the feeling knowing it would soon be gone. We ended our performance with a foxtrot and a sexy pose at the end. Clearly mesmerized by us, the audience applauded.

I was exhausted when I got home, way too tired to worry about seeing any ghost. That made me think. With the surgery, would I get as tired as I did now? Or would I be able to dance all night long and never get heavy eyelids?

I got in bed and waited for sleep to descend over me.

“Who was that dadblamed rascal who picked you up in a jalopy?”

I opened my eyes to see the man Grandmother called Abel Rollins standing at the foot of my bed. “Who are you? And why are you here?” I pulled the sheets up to my neck.

He was still wearing my father’s smoking jacket, which further annoyed me. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

I reached over and flicked the light on. “What are you doing in my house?” I demanded. He certainly didn’t look like a ghost, but his edges were hazy. Was this a dream? I certainly felt awake.

“I would like to know why you run around with a man like that.” He sucked his cheeks in giving himself a gaunt look.

“I will call the police if you won’t leave right now.” I thought about it for a second. “If you can’t afford clothes, then I can give you some of my father’s.”

“I don’t need your charity.” He stepped around to the side of the bed, and I saw him clearly. The haze had disappeared. What was he going to do?

“I swear. I’ll call the police if you take a step closer.”

He sat down on my hope chest at the end of the bed. “You may call the police if that would make you feel better.” A childish grin crawled across his face. “It might be a little embarrassing for you, though.”