Fierce Pride (16 page)

Libby leaned against the bathroom door. “Maybe the secret is in finding the right partner.”

“Or in avoiding all the wrong ones,” her mother added.

Libby had already justified staying with Santos, who was clearly wrong, but she didn’t confide her reasoning now. “That’s probably equally true. Please don’t worry about Maggie. You did a fine job raising us all.”

Linda fluffed her hair and stepped back from the mirror. “You’re very sweet, and I wish I believed you. Peter’s been a wonderful father, though, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he certainly has.” He’d been to every school event, cheered when she’d competed and consoled her on the few occasions she hadn’t won. He’d never advised her to be more ladylike and less athletic and had always made her feel proud of who she was. “He was perfect.”

They went downstairs together, and Santos appeared soon afterward. He’d changed his suit pants for gray sweatpants that would accommodate the knee brace. He nodded to her as though he expected to be complimented, and she blew him a kiss.

There were extra leaves in the table to seat fourteen, a snowy-white damask tablecloth, silver candelabra with white candles, even more ornate sterling silver than they usually used at meals, and a gorgeous floral centerpiece filled with white roses, gladiolas and carnations. The staff had so much practice with parties everything ran smoothly, and Libby couldn’t help but wonder how many times they’d presented the same dazzling wedding dinner party at Miguel’s request. Cirilda had probably had her receptions there too.

Santos had suggested where the place cards should go. Libby took her place at his right, Perry sat beside her, then Maggie and Rafael, Nadia and Claudio Mendez. Cirilda sat at the end of the table with Alfonso on her right; Linda and Peter were opposite Maggie and Rafael. Patricia sat between her parents and Fox, and Connie sat on Santos’s left. Patricia began to whisper to Fox as soon as they were seated, and he leaned close to hang on her every word.

Both of Tomas’s helpers, Julian and Adolfo, served the meal without once missing the opportunity to smile at Patricia and the twins. To Libby’s absolute amazement, her little sister appeared to be so absorbed in her conversation with Fox, she failed to notice.

The dinner began with warm appetizers. Santos spoke softly to the twins. “I insist you sample everything served, but take only a few bites. We have the whole evening to dine, and you mustn’t get full before the wedding cake is served.”

“Do we look as though we overeat?” Perry responded with a barely muffled snort.

“No, you look half starved,” Santos replied, “and I don’t want this delicious dinner to make you sick.”

“You’re trying to make us fat,” Connie murmured under her breath.

“I am not,” Santos argued. “You’re beautiful girls, but you needn’t be as thin as a single strand of spaghetti.”

The twins glanced toward Libby with slyly raised brows. “Some people are naturally thin,” Libby offered. She hadn’t expected Santos to have such a fatherly approach to the twins. Maggie had said he held the family together, but she’d not seen that side of him until now. He might flirt like crazy with her, but he acted like a parent when one was needed. She’d wished he had more depth, and it surprised her to discover he did.

Connie sat up straighter. “That’s why we’re slender. It’s natural for us. Now, when are you doing the commercials for the cologne, Santos?”

“Next week.” He looked at Libby. “Father wanted me to do the photo shoot when he couldn’t, and I can’t postpone it any longer. The ads have to be ready well before Christmas.”

“What’s it called?” Libby asked.

“Aragon,” the twins answered. “It was created for Father, and Santos wears it,” Perry said.

“I do too,” Rafael added. He hugged Maggie. “It worked for me.”

Cirilda leaned forward. “I’m sure it works wonders for every man who wears it, but the ads should feature Santos.”

Libby held her breath and wondered if Santos had warned Cirilda to keep her mouth shut about Rafael’s prison record and Carmen’s assault. She couldn’t ask without the danger her mother might overhear. Santos reached for her hand and smiled. He’d grown up with his father’s shifting families and had undoubtedly become adept at guarding secrets. He didn’t know the doctor and his wife, though, but perhaps Rafael had requested their silence himself.

“Thank you, Santos,” Maggie said. “Everything is absolutely perfect down to the last detail. I couldn’t have managed this lovely dinner without you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure,” he replied.

Next came small crystal bowls of sweet, chilled melon balls, served to cleanse the pallet. They were followed with caviar on buttery toast. Libby had never cared for it but gave it a small taste while Perry and Connie appeared to love the salty roe.

The salad was a colorful combination of greens combined with artichoke hearts marinated in a vinaigrette dressing. “I love artichokes,” Libby murmured between bites.

“Would you care for more?” Santos asked.

“No, I’m sure the next course will bring something even more delicious.”

“Tomas is good, isn’t he?”

Santos was relaxed, perfectly at home, and Libby was grateful her mother had worked so hard to give her daughters fine manners so she could sip the savory clear soup without slurping. Her parents were carrying on an animated conversation with Rafael and Maggie about again visiting Spain. Alfonso, a pediatrician, had engaged Dr. Mendez in a conversation about medicine. Mendez mentioned a private practice rather than serving as a prison physician, so Rafael’s secret was safe for the moment.

With a variety of sherbets served between the courses, everything tasted especially good. The salmon on a bed of caramelized onions with a dill sauce and sliced avocado garnish was the best anyone had ever eaten. The filet mignon sliced thin on a bed of wild rice with a fan of green beans brought similar effusive compliments. The tart lemon ice and the delectable cheese and flavorful fruit signaled the close of the extravagant meal.

The musicians had played a lighthearted musical accompaniment throughout, and with every course, a new and increasingly expensive wine had been opened. Libby didn’t dare swallow more than a sip of each, while Cirilda and Alfonso had more than their share and giggled together as they proposed another toast to the newlyweds. The twins, Fox and Patricia were served only sparkling cider, just as they would have been in the Gunderson home. The Aragon family apparently had some standards, but everything was so far from Libby’s usual routine, she felt as though she were part of a stage production and at any minute the director might stop the action and insist they begin again from act one, scene one.

More than three hours passed before Tomas rolled in the wedding cake on a linen-draped teacart. The three-tiered cake had clusters of beautifully formed roses with ruffles of ivory frosting, and the spectacular confection appeared so delicate it might float from the plate when cut. Rafael and Maggie left their seats to slice it, and Peter recorded the moment with his camera. Laughing, the newlyweds exchanged a tiny taste of the spice cake laced with ground pecans.

“I’ve never tasted a more delicious cake,” Linda exclaimed. “Thank you so much, Tomas. Everything was so good, the next time one of our daughters marries, you must come to Minneapolis to prepare another wedding feast.”

Rafael translated for her, and Tomas bowed slightly as though he might consider making such an unlikely trip. When the first slices of cake were eaten, several at the table asked for a second piece.

Champagne filled sparkling crystal flutes with dessert. Cirilda swiftly finished the last drop in hers. “Isn’t it a shame, Rafael, that they don’t serve food this delicious in prison?”

A shattering silence shot down the table, and Linda drew in a startled breath. “You’ve been in prison? Isn’t that something you should have told us, Maggie? Did you know, Peter?”

He had nowhere to hide and nodded. “Let’s talk about it later.”

“No, we’ll talk about it right now,” Linda demanded. “I asked the other night if there were anything more I should know. How can a prison record not qualify?”

Santos glared at Cirilda, and Libby thought she saw a glint of triumph in his aunt’s dark eyes. “This has been such a lovely evening, Mother,” Libby interjected. “Whatever troubles Rafael might have had in his youth are long over. Now let’s give the newlyweds our presents so they can leave on their honeymoon before dawn.”

“Yes, wonderful idea,” Peter declared. He helped his wife from her chair. “I’ll explain later, but the evening belongs to Maggie and Rafael.”

Linda searched the faces of her companions. “Why am I the only one here who doesn’t know the full story?”

Unable to remain quiet, Rafael circled the table, put his arm around his new mother-in-law’s shoulders and spoke in a comforting tone to lure her from the room, “Come with me, Mrs. Gunderson, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Santos waited to speak with his aunt until he heard the den door close. “You did that on purpose, and it was a mean, spiteful thing to do. You’re out of your mind if you marry her again, Alfonso, because she’ll treat you no better than she did the first time.”

Alfonso lurched from his chair. “I never allowed your father to show me such disrespect, and you’re not half the man he was.”

“You’re wrong,” Maggie cried. “Santos is the better man in every way. Now you two have had too much to drink. Please go upstairs and spend the night in Cirilda’s room.”

For a moment, Alfonso looked lost. When he took Cirilda’s hand and started toward the front of the house, Dr. Mendez immediately rose. “Dr. Rivera, you mustn’t drive. Give me your car keys, or I’ll be forced to take them.”

Alfonso bumped into the wall. “I can find my way home.”

Santos struggled to rise and grabbed his crutches. “Dr. Mendez, I’ll handle this.”

“On your crutches?” Fox sprang from his chair. “I’ll help them.” He approached the couple and smiled. “Let’s use the elevator so you don’t fall.”

“Elevator?” Peter whispered. “The house has an elevator?”

Libby rose and squeezed his arm. “That isn’t really the issue, is it, Dad?”

“No, of course not. I can’t let Rafael take the blame for this. I’ll join them.” He waited until Fox had guided Alfonso and Cirilda from the room before he took a step toward the door. “I did what I thought was best, Maggie. I would have told you mother everything when we got home.”

“I understand,” Maggie assured him. “Let’s go into the living room and have coffee there. I’ll wait for Rafael to open presents.”

Peter peered in the den, and when Linda didn’t throw anything, he entered. “Please don’t blame Rafael. I asked him not to reveal the details of his past.”

His wife had collapsed on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. “Rafael told me about his sister’s rape and the unfortunate result, but I can’t abide your shielding me from the truth. Why did you think I couldn’t handle it?”

“That wasn’t my reasoning,” Peter argued softly. “This trip to Miguel’s home has been difficult for you, and I didn’t want to burden you any further.”

“Difficult?” Linda shook her head. “I’ve been grateful all these years Maggie is nothing like her father. Miguel spoke only what was expedient, and now you’re doing it.”

Peter was skilled at defense, but he couldn’t excuse his behavior. “If you want to yell at me all the way home, fine, but don’t spoil the evening for Maggie and Rafael. They have presents to open, and I’m sure they’d rather spend their wedding night together than here with us.”

Linda hesitated before she stood and her expression hardened. “First promise me you’ll tell me the truth in the future. I don’t care if everyone I love is stricken with a fatal disease. Don’t leave me in the dark where I’ll be unprepared.”

Peter took a step toward her. “It might be impossible for me to say something that awful, but I promise to try.”

He looked so remorseful, Linda walked into his arms and hugged him tight. “We have to be a team.”

“I know, love. I’m sorry.” He looked over her head at Rafael. “Let’s go back to the party.”

Rafael opened the door. As they walked by, he felt an uncomfortable surge of guilt for not telling them Carmen had tried to kill Maggie, or that someone had it in for Santos. The Aragon home was not usually such a dangerous place, but he was glad he’d soon be taking Maggie away. He followed his new in-laws into the living room.

It stretched across the front of the house, with walls painted a sunny yellow and the elegant furniture upholstered in pale fabrics to set off the bright colors of the modern abstract art. A Wassily Kandinsky, with his signature strange floating objects, was displayed on one wall, and balanced on the opposite side of the room by a painting by Swiss artist, Paul Klee, with a riot of color in the background overlaid with black lines forming fanciful faces.

Peter entered the seldom-used room, and he could only stare. “Those are originals, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Santos answered. “Our grandfather, Augustin, had a keen eye for art. Some of the family paintings are on loan to museums, but these are kept here.”

Knowing a diversion when he heard one, Rafael reached for the beribboned package on the top of the pile. He gestured toward his new in-laws. “Please make yourselves comfortable.” He took his place beside his bride. “I didn’t expect presents.”