Steps to the Altar (38 page)

On the drive back to the new house, I forced myself to think about the possibilities. Maybe Gabe would leave me. Maybe he would go with his first love, Del Hernandez. But he’d always remember me as the woman in his life who didn’t beg him to stay. If he stayed, it would be his choice. And if he didn’t, I would survive as surely as I’d survived Jack’s death. I loved him. I wanted him. Although the thought of never again running my hands down his warm back, counting his ribs with my fingers, feeling his hardness inside me, his lips on the back of my neck, my breasts, the inside of my wrist, was almost too painful to bear, I knew I would survive. I’d experienced love twice in my lifetime. For that, I would always be grateful.

24

GABE

GABE STOOD IN the bar and watched Benni walk away from him. Seeing another man look at her with such naked longing ripped at his stomach like a bullet through flesh. That man—what was his name, something Hudson—was in love with her as surely as Gabe was his father’s son.

“And what did you expect,
mijo
,” he could imagine his father saying. “Do not think that a good woman is left alone for too long. There are too few of them, and the smart men, they know it. You have always been too greedy, Gabe. How many times do I tell you?
Quien todo lo quiere todo lo pierde.
”

His father’s words blared through his brain like a siren.
He who wants everything will lose everything.

Did Benni realize how this man, Hudson, felt about her? Had she fallen in love with him? Had Gabe screwed up the only relationship in his life that had ever brought him peace? His mind burned with turmoil. He wished he could reach inside his brain and scoop out with his bare hands the sections that had brought about all of this.

In minutes he was out at his car, cursing under his breath at its sluggish carburetor. It was time he got rid of his Corvette, maybe give it to Sam. Maybe it was time to buy a new car to go along with his new life.

Whatever new life he had left.

At Del’s hotel, she answered the door on his first knock, her face lighting up when she saw him.

“I knew you’d come,” she said, opening the door wider.

“Go home,” he said. “Don’t come back. Don’t ever call me again.”

Her coffee-colored eyes darted around him, as if she expected to see someone behind him prompting his words.

His heart beat faster. Is that what she thought? Did she think he was that easy to manipulate? Is that the appearance he gave to her? To everyone else? Shame and anger heated the back of his neck.

“She talked you into going back to her,” she said, spitting out the words. “She jerked your chain and you responded. What a good boy you are. What did she do, call your mama? Did your mama tell you to go back to your smug little wife? And here you are, doing just what you’re told. What a good little Mexican boy you turned out to be.”

He had never been tempted to hit a woman until now. His hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat itched with the desire. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t the type of man he was, that he’d ever been.

In that moment, he was overcome with shame for the part he’d played in this game. For how he’d used Del to make himself feel better, feel an illusion of excitement and youth, for just a split second in time. After this, he would call Father Mark. It was time. Time to let all of this go. Time for reconciliation. God would forgive, Mark had assured him of that. He could only hope his wife would show the same mercy.

“I’m sorry, Del,” he said, his voice kinder this time. “I should have never hurt you like this. Go home to your family. Have a good life. Find someone to love.”

Her voice cracked with anger. “You’re a fool, Gabriel Ortiz. Do you have any idea what you’ve lost? Do you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid I do.”

25

BENNI

THE WEDDING WAS . . . well, I just don’t have the words for it. Gorgeous, perfect, the wedding of Elvia’s childhood dreams. Santa Celine Mission was filled with the scent of roses and lilies and lavender. I cried when I walked down the aisle ahead of Elvia and saw my cousin’s beaming face. I cried even harder when Elvia floated down the aisle gripping her father’s arm as if it were the only oak tree standing in a hurricane.

When they repeated their vows after Father Mark, I glanced over at Gabe. He looked so impossibly handsome in his tuxedo. The tears that flowed from me at that moment had nothing to do with the wedding and everything to do with the passion I still felt for this man, the desire I had for him both physically and emotionally. It would not be easy to let him go. Though Jack had been my first love, the love of my youth, Gabe was definitely the love I had wanted to be my last. Both were special. Both had changed my life irrevocably. I would never be the same woman I was before either of them loved me. And I did not regret for one moment giving either of them my heart.

I touched Maple’s locket that, at the last minute, I’d exchanged Gabe’s necklace for. Somehow, I knew she’d understand how I felt.

When Elvia and Emory were introduced as husband and wife, I suspected every tissue in the audience was soaked. Señora Aragon was the only one not crying. Her face had a smile that, as Daddy would say, reached clear around to the back of her head. I could already hear her voice nagging at Elvia about having a
bebé
.

It was most certainly a day filled with tears, both happy and sad, though I doubt anyone could tell the difference in me. At least, I hoped they couldn’t. Gabe and I gave all the appearances of being a happily married couple. It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. I just remembered the good times we shared and pretended it was then instead of now.

At one point in the reception, located at a local hotel, we caught each other’s eyes and he came over to me.

“We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.

“Not now,” I said curtly. I’d managed to maintain a mask of marital harmony this long and I wasn’t about to get into an argument with him during the last moments of Emory and Elvia’s wedding celebration.

“When?” he asked, his blue-gray eyes dark with emotion.

“I don’t know”

“I told her to leave.”

I stared at him, not certain how his words made me feel. Relieved? Victorious? Angry? Did he really think it was that simple? He had to know that damage had been done to our relationship, possibly irreparable damage. And I wasn’t sure whether I was ready to dissect it all yet. I shrugged and walked away.

A half hour later, Father Mark caught me alone at the punch bowl.

“You know,” he said, sipping a glass of pale gold punch. “I am not betraying a confidence when I tell you that man would die for you.” I guessed by his compassionate expression that he knew about me and Gabe.

I couldn’t look him in the eye. Was I ready to forgive Gabe? Truly? And was I willing to accept the part of this that was my fault? That was even a harder question. “I know.”

“Love is not so easily found these days that we can toss it away without a fight,” he said, his voice edged with a sadness that made me wonder about his own past.

“Thank you, Father,” I said, not willing to discuss it right now. I was still too confused. But I was glad for one thing. That Gabe wasn’t alone. That he had someone to confide in. “Thank you for being there for him.”

“Despite his flaws, Benni, he is a good man.”

“Yes, Father, he is,” I agreed. “He is a very good man.”

After all the toasts had been toasted and the last piece of cake eaten, we finally saw the newlywed couple off in their shiny black Lincoln Navigator, decorated with a psychedelic rainbow of tissue flowers compliments of Elvia’s seventeen nieces and nephews. They were heading off to Aspen for a three-week honeymoon in a mountain top chalet loaned to Emory by a friend. Her dream honeymoon to the Caribbean was not to be since my cousin still had not overcome his fear of flying. By the look on Elvia’s face, a chalet in Aspen would be just fine.

“Go, be fruitful and multiply,” I told her as I helped her change into her pale blue cashmere going-away suit.

She rolled her eyes. “You and Mama. She’s already making the signs.” Elvia moved her arms as if she were rocking a baby.

“And this surprises you?” I asked, laughing.

Right before Emory stepped into the decorated car, I hugged my cousin hard. “You’d better take good care of her. She’s the best friend I’ve got.” Before he could protest, I added, “Best
girlfriend.”

He kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “People can live happily ever after. You always told me that and now I believe it.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “You will. You’ll live happily ever after.”

It was almost 6 P.M. by the time I drove back to the new house and had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. The rain that had been threatening to dampen Elvia and Emory’s day finally broke out of the black clouds in an angry torrent.

Exhaustion was not the word for what I was feeling. It was more like I was completely depleted of feeling. I’d put Maple’s box of possessions along with her diary in the back of the closet under the stairs. Her story would go with me throughout my life, a testament to one person’s true love for another.

I was just opening the refrigerator to get some milk to make myself hot chocolate when the doorbell rang. Its full, pleasant chime echoed through the still empty house. It was a chime I could have grown to love.

Gabe stood in the doorway, still dressed in his tuxedo, water dripping from his hair and trench coat. With all that had happened, his striking looks could still take my breath away. He would never know what it felt like to be just an average person, a person no one ever looked twice at walking down the street. He possessed the privilege that came with physical beauty. And yet, he was, as Father Mark asserted, a good man. A good man whom I happened to love.

“We need to talk,” he said.

I didn’t open the door wider. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

I didn’t answer. What could I say to that?

“
Querida
, please,” he said. “
Lo siento.
I am so sorry. I want you. I love you. Please, let me come home.”

I gripped the doorknob, suddenly angry at how easy he thought it would be. “How do I know that’s what you really feel? That you won’t change your mind tomorrow when some other woman wanders in from your past? How do I know for sure?” I asked, knowing as I said it that there was no simple answer to my questions. No guarantees for anything in this world.

His face twisted in pain.
“Escucha a mi corazon,”
he said, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. “Listen to my heart.”

I pulled my hand back and hesitated, deciding. It was moments like this, I knew, that changed lives forever. Inhaling deeply, I did the only thing I knew was possible for me. I stepped back and opened the door wider. A sound like a sob caught in his chest and he stepped through the doorway, stumbling over the unfamiliar threshold, falling toward me. And with every bit of strength left in my tired arms, I caught him.

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