Authors: Hebby Roman
"For our sakes?" She asked. "Hector, I'm not stupid, so don't patronize me. I know how much this development means to you."
"Just give me the benefit of the doubt, okay? I'll take you to a nice place for dinner and we can talk." He paused and smiled at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Do you have the ring I gave you? Why don't you wear it?" The tiniest note of hurt crept into his voice. "You could wear it on your right hand if you wanted to."
She studied his face for a moment. He'd lost the fake smile and seemed to be looking at her with genuine interest. Did he really mean what he'd just said? With Hector, you never knew, he was great at play-acting.
And what did she care if he was upset or not? She was over him. Esteban had made her realize what loving someone, really loving them, felt like. Even if she hadn't told Esteban how she felt.
As for Hector's ring---she didn't care about it, one way or the other. And she had no intention of ever wearing it again.
"Yes, I have the ring. I was going to return it to you when I got back to Dallas. But since you're here." She let out a puff of breath. "Wait here. I'll get it."
He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. "Not now, please."
His eyes gleamed in the porch light, and she recognized that look because she'd seen it on his face so many times before---it was the look of undisguised greed. So Hector had wanted her to return the ring all along.
She pulled her shoulders back and shrugged off his hand, holding herself carefully erect. She shouldn't care but she did. Not about the ring or their broken engagement. But that he valued her and their long relationship so little. She wanted to rush inside and grab the ring and fling it in his face. But they'd all had enough ugly scenes for one evening.
"I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow night. You can bring the ring then," Hector offered. "We'll go someplace nice and talk."
She wanted to tell Hector where he could go right now, forget tomorrow night. And that was straight to hell. But before she could get the words out of her mouth, the front door swung open, and Esteban stood in the doorway, his face a scowl and his hands fisted.
Hector took the cue and started down the front steps, calling back, "Tomorrow at eight." He opened the door to his rented Beamer and got in. Spewing dirt and loose gravel, he roared off.
Natalia's shoulders slumped, and she felt like a rag doll that had lost its stuffing. She ignored Esteban's possessive stance and sank with a sigh into the newly-repaired porch swing. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the slatted wood. Pura's great brain child of a supper with Esteban and Hector together had proven even worse than she'd dreaded.
And now this thing over the ring. She hadn't been prepared for that.
She sensed Esteban looming over her and her nose picked up the spicy cologne that he favored. But she wasn't ready to face him yet, and she wished she could keep her eyes closed indefinitely. Right now, she felt like a prize-fighter who'd gone the full ten rounds.
Slowly and reluctantly, she opened her eyes and found herself staring at his crisp white shirt. He had his feet spread wide and looked as if he was bracing himself for a fight.
"What happens tomorrow night at eight?" He asked.
She opened her eyes and leaned forward. "I see Hector and give back his ring. I tried to give it to him tonight, but he said he didn't want to make another scene."
"So you've agreed to a date with him, just to give back his ring," he said.
Like a hibernating bear awakening from a long winter's nap, Esteban's prodding irritated her. She'd had more than enough confrontations for one night. And she didn't want to argue with him over Hector. Her ex-fiancé was definitely not worth it.
"I hadn't planned on going out with him, but he kept pressing. And then you came out and he sort of ran off before I could refuse."
"Really?"
"But I want to give back his ring."
"So you're not going on a date with him?"
What did she have to do---spell it out? Who did Esteban think he was her keeper? They didn't have any hold on each other. She'd assumed he wasn't seeing other people, since that night in Santa Fe, because he'd spent all his free time with her. But she hadn't demanded he not see other women.
And she hadn't expected Hector would come back for his ring, desperate to cut his losses.
And what of Esteban? He hadn't given her anything to bind them together. Why was he so possessive. If she wanted to go out with her ex-fiancé, even if he was a greedy worm, then
por Dios
, she would do just that. Let Esteban put up or shut up. Let him tell her how he felt about her. Let him take her in his arms and kiss her silly.
Her wounded pride needed reassurance.
"What do you care if I go out with him?" She asked. "You and I don't have an understanding. I haven't told you that you can't go out with other women."
He shook his head. "Natalia, you can't mean that. You know I haven't so much as looked at another woman since---"
"Who's stopping you," she taunted. "Certainly not me." Rising from the swing, she tried to push past him. "I'm tired, Esteban. It's been a long night."
But he blocked her way. He didn't lay a hand on her. Instead, he stood solidly in her path, waiting. She could hear his labored breathing, glimpsed the pain etched on his shadowed features. She'd hurt him, and she hadn't meant to do that. Or had she?
Had she lashed out at Esteban, unconsciously hoping to hurt him as Hector had hurt her? If so, she was no better than her ex-fiancé. Maybe even worse, at least Hector had his greed to blame. Guilt rode her like a heavy-handed jockey. Shame swamped her, but she couldn't back down now.
"Not a date tomorrow, just give him back his ring, Natalia." Esteban pleaded.
She nodded. "Not a date, I'll just give him his ring."
"Thank you, Natalia." He kissed the top of her head. "You know you're the only one for me. Since we were kids, all I've wanted was you."
She lifted her face to him. "Really?"
***
Natalia almost fell face forward into the soapy water, helping Pura with the breakfast dishes. She was so tired it took an effort of will to keep her eyes open. She hadn't been able to sleep last night after Esteban left.
Her sleepy eyes drifted shut. She forced them open, but they grew moist. With the back of her hand, she dashed away the tears. Yawning behind her fist, she said, "I think I'll take a nap."
"Don't you have class this morning?" Pura asked.
"I'm cutting it."
"That's not like you,
mi
Nieta. Don't let this García boy bother you. He's not worth it."
"That's not the problem." Not wanting to explain how she'd spent the night, tossing and turning and thinking about Esteban and what he'd said. "What about Hector's offer? Have you thought about it?"
"You mean the road."
"
Sí
. It's not such a bad idea. The farm needs a new road. Why not let someone else pay for it?"
"Pah! Another road to bring more tourists in? Gracias, no."
"But what if you needed an ambulance? The farm's road is---"
"I can take care of myself, Natalia," Pura stopped her. "I'm not so old that I need an ambulance or so young that I'm afraid of dying."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Natalia asked, crossing her soapy arms.
"Whatever you want it to mean. It's my life, not yours."
"Is that why you spurn José's efforts? Why you won't let him move you to town?" Natalia asked.
"My eldest son wants to make a ward of me. My grandmother would have said that was a good thing and that I should be grateful for his concern. I should let him take care of me. But I don't want that. I want to take care of myself."
"Okay, I understand you want to stay on the farm and live you own life, but I think---"
"Don't think. It doesn't become you. It carves big wrinkles in your forehead. Don't think so much," she repeated. "Sometimes, it's better to just feel, just to be."
Natalia shook her head. "I was wrong. I don't understand what you want."
"A man," she replied. "If I had it to do over again, I would have remarried. Not that I didn't love your grandfather." She shrugged. "I'm starting to repeat myself, and I've told you this before. Excuse my momentary lapse of senility,
por favor
."
"Not that living with a man, any man, is a bed of roses," her
abuela
admitted. "Your grandfather, the Blessed Virgin keep him, was a stubborn, obstinate man, given to great passions. He wasn't easy to live with." Rolling her eyes, she said, "I could tell you stories." She paused and then continued, "But despite all that, I would rather care for an aging husband and have him care for me, than put the burden on my children."
"But you're not a burden, Abuelita. Why do you think that?"
"Because that's your sentiment speaking, Natalia, not your reason. Think about it," she admonished, adding, "and don't plague me about a road. The last thing I want is a road cutting through my farm."
"I'm supposed to go on a date tonight with Hector and tell him what you've decided and give him back his engagement ring. But Esteban doesn't want---"
"Do it for me, Nieta." Pura placed her wet hand on Natalia's arm. "Esteban is afraid you'll go back to Hector, but we both know you won't. And he should realize it too." She shook her head. "I don't want to talk with your ex-fiancé, Natalia. So, do this for your old
abuela
, go out with him and be polite and tell Hector I don't want the road. And don't worry about Esteban, he will understand."
***
Speeding down the highway to Taos, seated beside her ex-fiancé in his rented Beamer, Natalia remembered she'd traveled this same stretch of road with Esteban, only a few days before. What was she doing here with Hector? She should have given the ring back and ended it. But her grandmother wanted her here, wanted Natalia to dash Hector's hope for a road to his proposed resort.
She hoped her grandmother was right---that Esteban would understand why she was with Hector.
Turning in her seat, she asked, "How's the Hilton in Santa Fe?"
"It's great. I always love coming here; the mountain air is so pure."
"Yes, I love it too." And it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she intended to remain in New Mexico, but for some reason, she decided not to share her plans.
After small talk about their mutual friends in Dallas, they passed Taos and began their ascent into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Natalia wondered where on earth Hector was taking her, but she didn't ask.
Winding around the torturous mountain roads, they reached the Taos Ski Valley. Hector turned into a huge gate spanning the roadway with the name "Mariposa," spelled out in wrought-iron letters. Something about the name struck her, but she couldn't place it. There were numerous resorts in the Taos Valley, open in winter for skiing and in summer for sightseeing.
"I wanted to bring you here because the Mariposa is known for its gourmet cuisine as well as its view," he explained. "You can see the Rio Grande Gorge from the dining room windows."
"How marvelous," she said.
Leaving the car with the parking attendant, Hector ushered her into the resort. Built in the modern style with cathedral ceilings and lots of windows, the spacious interior gave her the feeling of being perched on a mountaintop. In contrast to the modern design, the decor was Southwestern. Paintings of the mountains and pueblos covered the natural rock walls, sculptures depicting native and cowboy motifs graced the tables and niches, and underfoot, brightly-woven Navajo rugs dotted the Spanish tile floor.
The decor reminded her of Santa Fe. And that reminded her of Esteban---as if she needed any reminding.
The maitre d' seated them next to a ceiling-to-floor panel of glass. Evening was falling, and the view was stunning. The vivid reds and oranges of the roughly-hewn cliffs of the Rio Grande Gorge appeared so beautiful that they almost looked manufactured like a painting. And while they watched, the encroaching night spread a purple mantle over the rocky outcrops and sheer cliffs, contrasting boldly with the fading blue sky overhead. The view was breathtaking, and Natalia wished Esteban was there to share it.
She let Hector order for her, not interested in the cuisine, no matter how fine it might be. Conferring with him over the dinner would bring yet another reminder of that other night in Santa Fe. And she didn't need any more reminders. She was here for two purposes: give back the ring and tell Hector that her grandmother didn't want the road.
After that, getting through dinner and returning home was her goal.
Their drinks arrived. He lifted his Scotch and toasted, "To us and all the old times."
She touched her glass to his. But she couldn't sustain the charade much longer. Better to get down to business. Opening her purse, she pulled out a black velvet box. Placing the box in the center of the table, she flipped it open, revealing the brilliant diamond and emerald engagement ring. "Here it is, Hector."
"Don't be crass, Natalia, put it away." He glanced around, as if to see if anyone was watching. His reaction didn't surprise her. He'd always cared too much about what other people thought. He leaned across the table. "I'll get it from you later," he added in a whisper.
She folded her arms across her chest. "If you want it out of sight, put it in your pocket, Hector. I want to get this over with."
Gazing at her, a dim realization dawned. He ducked his head and looked sheepish. "I hadn't thought how this might affect you, Natalia. I, ah, I'm at a loss as to what to say."
She didn't know what to say, either, nor did she want to look at his arrogant, foolish face any longer. But she had another mission, and she'd promised Pura. "This is it, Hector. You have my ring. And Pura considered your offer. But she's not interested. Not interested, okay? And as much as you've praised the cuisine here, if you want to go, I understand. I'm done."
"Don't be silly, we've already ordered. And I'll have to pay. No, we're going to finish our meal like civilized human beings. As for Pura," he paused and pursed his lips. "I didn't tell her how much cash would come with the new road. If she knows how lucrative this could be for her, I think she'll change her mind."