Suspicion of Malice (48 page)

"What about the ballet? She got a part?"

"They made her a Flower. She wanted to do the Chinese dance, but they said maybe next time. If she does well—of course she will—and if she studies at the school for a little longer, she might get into the
company as an apprentice."

"Are you going to take me to
The Nutcracker?"

"iQue va?
I'll buy two rows of seats. We'll see it every performance."

Gail propped herself on an elbow. "Your grandparents will want to come. You might have to speak to Ernesto."

"Ah, well. It would make Nena happy." He pulled Gail close with an arm under her neck. She played
with the hair on his chest, lifting it with closed fin
gers. He said, "You want to hear something funny?
Alicia told me the other day that Ernesto wants me to take him to Cuba. Yes. To Cuba. He wants to see
it one more time before he dies."

"Oh. That isn't funny, it's so sad."

"He must be getting senile. He attacked me for
years for going to see my father and my sister. He
called me a communist. But now it's different. He
wants to see Cuba again, and I have to take him— in secret. If they caught him in the country, after
what he's done, they could charge him with treason.
No. If they're smart, they'd put his picture in the
newspaper and laugh about it, then send him back
to Miami. That would be worse than prison, for his
friends to know where he'd been. I didn't expect
such cowardice from the old man. He knows he was
wrong all these years, but he can't admit it."

"Are you going to talk to him?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"I'm not going to take him anywhere. He could
die on the way. And what would he see if he got
there? Nothing's left. The house, the farm, the stables.
All gone. Alicia wants me to lie to him! To tell him
I'll take him, just to make him happy."

"Maybe you should. A lie could be the kindest thing to do."

"Gail, I'd rather not talk about this now. Every
time I think of that old man, of that house, of the
fights we had . . . Look. I break into a sweat even
thinking about it." Anthony swung his legs off the
bed. "Are you hungry? I am starving to death."

He walked to the desk across the room to find
the room-service menu. He was wonderful in clothes,
more so without. Gail stretched out like a cat, arms
above her head, and watched him. His back in three-
quarter profile, the front of him in the mirror. The
desk lamp shining on chest hair, darker at his groin. Lean legs, a taut stomach. Not bad for almost forty-three. He flipped through pages. "A big steak and
baked potato. What do you think?"

"God, yes. No, I want a lobster, dripping in butter, and a whole loaf of French bread. I haven't had an
appetite like this in months. I'll get fat."

He turned to smile at her. "I would love to see
you fat.
Mi gordita."
He called room service and gave
the order, adding that they should bring a bottle of
champagne. Something nice. He hung up and came back, looking at her lying across the rumpled sheets, one leg crooked over a pillow. Under the heat of his
eyes, her skin tingled.

He patted her hip and sat down. "When are we getting married?"

"We don't have to."

"What do you mean? To have a child without a father?"

"I thought it had one."

"Gail, please, no jokes. We have to get married. It's better. You know it."

"For the baby? Or for us?"

"Of course for us. For the baby too. Are you
being difficult?"

"If I weren't pregnant, would you even consider
it?"

"Yes."

She laughed. "You would not."

"Okay, maybe not as soon, but the fact is, you
are
pregnant, and I love you, and here we are, together again. Aren't we? Gail?"

"I don't want to think about it right now."

"Ay, no me digas eso.
When will you think about it? In the labor room?"

"We have one night together, and everything is
suddenly different?"

"One night?
One?"

"Anthony, please don't push me."

"Okay, okay." He sat for a moment with his hands
in his lap, then leaned over to kiss her between her
hip bones. He whispered,
"Oyeme, bebita. Dile a tu
obstinada mama que se case conmigo."

"What was that?"

"I told her she has to convince you herself because
I can't get anywhere."

"She?"

"I hope it's a girl. I want her to have your face.
When I see her, I'll think of you." He leaned over
and whispered into Gail's navel.
"Ya te quiero aunque
no te he visto.
I just told her, 'I love you already, without
having seen you.'"

"You're sweet. What if she is a he?"

"A boy? Well, that's all right too."

"You'd better not make him too macho."

"No, but we can't allow him to be lazy or disre
spectful. You know what boys are like these days.
This one won't get into trouble, I promise." He spoke
into her navel again and patted her belly. "Hey.
Wake up. Are you listening to me,
hijo?
This is your
father speaking. You be a good boy, don't make problems for your mother."

Gail's throat tightened and ached. She pressed her
hands to her face and felt tears on her fingers.

He sat up. "What is this?
iQue te pasa?"

"It's real, isn't it? It hasn't been until this very moment. Please, Anthony, don't make me want this too much. What if I lose the baby?"

Murmuring softly, he picked her up and held her
tightly. "No, that won't happen. Shhh. Don't cry.
You'll see a doctor next week, a specialist, the best
in Miami."

She wept into his shoulder. "I didn't want to be pregnant. I thought I would miscarry, but it didn't happen. Then I made an appointment for an abor
tion, but I couldn't do it. The baby wasn't
real.
Now
it is, and you're here, and I'm afraid of losing both
of you."

"No Mores. Todo va a salir bien.
Everything will be
all right, I promise."

"If I lost the baby, would you still want me?"

"Oh, Gail." He made her look at him. "How can
you say that? Of course I would." He kissed her
tears.

Scooting away, she said, "I remember what you
told me a few months ago. You wanted me, and you loved me, but you didn't need me. Is that still true?"

Anthony smiled and shook his head. "I can't be
lieve I said such a stupid thing.
Si, mamita, te necesito.
I need you, I love you, I want you. Now come here."
He lay back on the bed and pulled her down beside him, cradling her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. He held her for
a while, then said, "I bought the house on Clematis
Street."

"You
did? Then who are the Garcias?"

"Raul made them up for me. I didn't want to let
the house go. We can live there after it's remodeled,
but that could take a year or more. Do you mind
living in an apartment until then? We should start
looking for something right away."

"Wait. I didn't say I would marry you. I didn't
even say I would live with you."

He shifted down in the bed until they were looking
eye to eye. He smiled. "You know you will. Don't play these games with me."

She avoided his kiss. "I am totally serious. We
shouldn't rush."

"Listen to what you're saying! You're afraid of los
ing me, but you don't want to live with me. Does
that make sense? What do you want me to do, come
visit the baby at your mother's house? That's crazy.
Gail,
corazon,
be reasonable."

"After everything that's happened, we have to take it slowly."

"Okay." He gently kissed one corner of her mouth,
then the other. "As slowly as you want." His hand
moved between her thighs.
"Muy despacio."

She drew back and stilled his hand. "Anthony,
please."

His heated breath was on her lips. "Don't run
away from me anymore. Please don't."

"God, I'm so afraid of loving you." She laughed.
"It was so much easier to hate you."

"Oh, yes, I know."

"Just don't lie to me. Promise."

"I promise.
Te juro.
You don't have to be afraid of
anything. I love you. Let me touch you. Don't be
afraid." She felt herself falling, and Anthony holding her, then filling her with himself, and her body became liquid fire, consuming all conscious thought.
"Siempre te amare, te quiero, amor mio.
..."

Chapter 24

Leaning on the railing, wrapped in the hotel's
white robe, Anthony looked out at the ocean. Im
mense, boundless. There were still stars, but they
were beginning to fade in the east. The beach was deserted. He could see lines of beach chairs, some folded umbrellas.

The ocean was black in the distance, a vague gray motion nearer the shore. The waves were paler gray
where they broke on the sand, an irregular shush
and thud.

He heard a noise behind him, then Gail's sleepy
voice. "Hi. What are you doing?" She had put on
the other robe, but it hung open crookedly, and he could see her body. Beautiful. And her stomach was
not as flat as two months ago.

He said, "The sun will be up soon.
Amanecer.
Dawn."

"You should have woken me. I like to see the
sunrise."

"You didn't sleep much. I don't want you to get
too tired." He held out his arm. "Come here." Yawn
ing, she belted the robe as she crossed the terrace.
He pulled her next to him.

A slight breeze came up, warm and salty. He could
feel, more than see, the darkness diminishing. The
foam on the sand was whiter, the railing more visible. The horizon showed clearly.

He kissed her forehead. "There's something I'd
like to do right now, before it gets any later." The words seemed to snag on their own implausibility.

"Tell me," she said.

"My grandfather always gets up at dawn. He has
his
cafe con leche,
and his
tostada,
and he sits on the
balcony outside his room and watches the sun. He
used to read two or three newspapers. I don't know
if he still does."

"You want to go see him."

"Yes."

"Go. It's all right. I'll sleep for a little longer, then
drive home."

"Will you come with me?" He could see her smile fade. What must she be thinking? The last time she'd
been there, such a scene. Walking out of the Fourth
of July party. Running onto the golf course, Anthony
running after her, everyone talking about it.

"Ernesto wouldn't want me there. Or your grand
mother—"

He put a finger on her lips. "They aren't as unfor
giving as you think. I would like you to come with
me, but if you can't, I understand. I won't say any
thing else about it. It's up to you."

He understood because it was the same for him. Worse. Going back into that house again. Claustrophobic and old, heavy with the weight of history and lost dreams. He had to go back, but she didn't. Even
so
...

She was looking at him intently, and the light had changed even more. Her eyes caught the color of the
sky. "All right. I'll come with you."

Anthony called the house, and Aunt Fermina an
swered in the kitchen. She had just started the coffee,
and she would set out extra cups for him and Gail.

By the time they arrived, the wide iron gate was open. He drove in and parked, sitting for a moment
with his hands on the steering wheel, looking at the house. The fountain and cobblestone driveway. The bougainvillea climbing the twisted Moorish columns
under the portico. The second-floor windows with
their iron balconies and heavy curtains. Shafts of sun
light slanted across faded stucco. Someone had come
out to pick up the newspapers.