The Surrogate's Secret (15 page)

Later that evening, in her husband’s arms, Sheri felt like a princess dancing with the devil. He’d never looked at her with eyes so cold before. She hated how they made her feel. What had happened to him? Where was her gentle lover from the night before?

The evening ceremony had been beautiful. Her sappy tears shared with Paula and Andrea. She’d even seen a sentimental smile crack Maria’s stern face as she’d forced a tissue on Juan, who was openly weeping.  If only Miguel had enjoyed the event, things would have been perfect. She had to ask herself, how many husbands would surprise their wives with a dream wedding? He had to have done it to please her, and he’d succeeded, so why did he frown so? 

Most embarrassing had been the moment when the priest had asked for the ring. Miguel had stiffened and slowly reached into his pocket and then pulled his hand out as if he’d been bitten. Coughs, shuffling, and cleared throats could be heard around the room. Finally, she’d taken off her ring and handed it to him, the ring he’d given her in Washington, the ring she’d only lately begun to wear as it felt like it meant something since their last few wonderful nights together.

Earlier, when Sheri returned home and seen
all the decorations. Andrea admitted to their conniving. “Darling, Miguel wanted to tell you, but he must have missed your arrival. Tonight, he’s arranged for you two to be remarried, to have a proper ceremony. He’s told us how he’d cheated you out of your day in Washington, and that he wanted you to have better memories to cherish.”

“It’s a party? For us?”

“Yes. Everything’s arranged. All you have to do is go and get ready. Paula will help you.” Andrea turned to include the smiling Paula who had held back so as not to be the first through the door.

Flabbergasted and delighted, Sheri ran to their suite to
seek Miguel, and instead found her wedding finery spread over the gold cover. She swept the beautiful white satin creation up, held it in front of her, and watched the flounces swirl while she twirled around the room. The full-length mirror beckoned as she danced her way to pose in front.

Her hair, a mass of blonde curls that had escaped the scrunchy, now framed her face and caught her attention. Hot rollers, big fat ones would fix the mess. Then she stared into
her own shimmering multi-toned brown eyes so like those of her Irish mother. Happiness glowed right back at her

Was this radiant woman Sheri O’Connor
Rivera? She’d never seen herself looking so happy, so in love. Laying her gown gently back onto the bed, she again searched for her husband and found him in the nursery leaning over the crib while staring at the sleeping twins. She launched herself into his arms and kissed him with abandon.

Whispering so as not to disturb the babies, she said. “Miguel, thank you for the gorgeous dress
, I’ve never owned anything like it.”

He wrenched himself from her arms and turned away to walk across the room. “I’m glad you like it.  Go now, and get ready.” The shadows hid his face but even a fool couldn’t mistake his rejection.

“Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“You must go. I’m not supposed to see you until the ceremony.” He waved his fingers as if he brushed at some dirt in the air.

Still sensing a problem, she hesitated. “Are you sure? You’re okay?”

“Yes. Scram. Before the little ones wake up and see you. They’ll never settle down again with you here. I believe Maria wanted them to nap so they’d be able to stay up later tonight. My mother is finally getting the opportunity to show off her grandchildren and nothing must stand in her way.”  

She backed out of the room, her eyes never leaving his stiff profile. As she closed the door, his hands caught her attention. They were fisted and white from the pressure he’d exerted.

Something had happened. This wasn’t the same man, who, only this morning had kissed her so many times before he’d left for work that he’d given up and gotten back into their bed.

After the shocking news Paula had exposed this afternoon, about his inability to father children, she’d made up her mind not to let another day pass without telling him the truth. The secret that now weighed her down, plaguing her conscience and needed to be told. Her plan to confess after they’d made love seemed the most logical, and obviously the most cowardly. Sheri knew in her heart that once she’d satisfied him with her body, he’d be much more amiable. Hopefully, he’d feel so relaxed that happy relief, and not anger, would be his dominant emotion.

All through the time she’d gotten ready, while Paula helped with her hair and Andrea assisted with her makeup, she’d fretted over her decision, worrying that her coward
’s side had made the wrong choice. Now, that the ceremony was over and the dancing had begun, it was too late to change her mind.

The music wound down as the song came to an end. Paula broke into her reverie and
beckoned her from arms more than willing to let her go. They both watched as Miguel walked across the room straight to the bar where he’d spent a fair amount of time already.

“What is wrong with
Miguel? He’s been acting very strange tonight,” Paula whispered.

“I don’t know. He won’t talk to me. When I tried to ask him earlier, he made light of his behavio
r and said he’d been working too hard.”

“What rubbish!”

“That’s sort of what I thought. I’ll have him alone later and then I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.” 

“Good. Now you must throw the bouquet. Everyone is waiting. Then you and Miguel can cut the cake and pose for pictures.”

“More? It seems like hundreds of flashes have gone off since the evening began.”

“Quit whining
, you lucky girl. How many women get to pose next to such a hunk?”

The familiar phrase made her giggle. Paula loved the word ‘hunk
,’ and with her keen eye always on the lookout, and the Chilean males being some of the best looking in the world, she used it obsessively. “I suppose he makes me look good. Is he at least smiling when they take the photos?”

“Not so you’d notice. I stuck my tongue out at him during the last bunch and he lightened up for a few minutes. We’re not the only ones baffled. I caught Andrea giving him hell earlier, and since then, he seems better.”

“I wish he’d talk to me. I wonder if it’s really something with work that’s upset him?”

“Ladies, I need to cut in. Paula you’re hogging the bride, and I still haven’t had my dance with her yet. Please introduce us, so she won’t think I’m some jerk trying to come
-on to her.” Blond, slim and attractive in a beautifully tailored gray suit, the man held out his hand and appraised her at the same time as she did her own surveillance.

“Sheri, this is Nick Wharton, a very good friend of the family. Mi amigo, this is Miguel’s bride, Sheri. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted while I organize the
battle over the bouquet.” Sheri watched her gesture to the band before leaving them, and wasn’t surprised when they started playing a slow waltz.

“Have you and Miguel been friends for long?” Interested in everything about her husband, Sheri questioned her amber-eyed partner.

“Since we were kids. As were my father and his before we were born. Our families go back a long way. We spent our college years together—”

“Getting into mischief, no doubt.”

“Nah! We were the good guys. Nerds, totally into our studies. Okay. I can tell by that pretty little sneer, you don’t believe a word of that nonsense.”

“
You’d be right. My guess is you guys spent a lot of time getting into trouble and trying not to get caught.”

A strange expression wiped the smile from his face and he peered at her closely. “Miguel told you about my capture in Col
ombia?”

“You were captured
too? I knew he’d been a prisoner, but he doesn’t talk about it much. It must have been horrible.”

“The terrorists ambushed
me and three other political prisoners. During the operation when Miguel freed us, they took him hostage. It was brutal. Then Andrea got him out. My father was dying at the time or I would have gone instead. If that wasn’t bad enough, my good friend helped me again not too long ago. The same crazies imprisoned me here in Santiago the first day you’d arrived, and Miguel came to the rescue. This time we uncovered the person behind everything.”

“It’s over then. You’re safe now.”

He nodded satisfaction prominent on his face. “Oh yes. This morning Miguel’s testimony in court ensured that the worst of the culprits would get what was coming to her.”

“Her? A woman was involved?” Sheri knew the shock in her voice
must be displayed on her face. She hadn’t expected to hear the word woman in junction with crazies and Colombian terrorists.

A strange look appeared before he ducked his head and swung her around in a circle. “Forget it. I talk too much.”

“Who went to jail?” Misgivings changed to fear, as a sick sense turned her insides to ice. She came close to letting it slide until her stubborn need to know took over. “Nick, who did he send to jail?”

The switch from debonair to sheepish ensured him a place in her heart from that moment on, and she almost cut him some slack.
In spite of this, she had to know. It would explain so much. Why, for instance, today her passionate lover had become a stranger. “Tell me,” she reiterated. “I need to understand.” She tightened her hold on his hand and jiggled it in her insistence.

“You already
do. It’s written on your face. I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you.”

“Margarita’s the reason he’s suffered this terrible
ordeal? She did this to him, his own fiancé? Why, the black-hearted bitch.”

“My sentiments exactly
and she’s not just a part of it. She was completely responsible.”

“
My poor Miguel.” Thoughts boomeranged in Sheri’s mind. He’d loved the woman, and she’d hurt him.

He
still cares!

From then on for Sheri, the evening turned from a beautiful dream of a future full of love and happiness to pure hell. Questions kept churning in her mind. 
Should I let on that I know about Margarita? Is tonight the right time to bare my soul? Now, when he’s probably had all he can take of lying women?
Worry played havoc with her temper until she could scream from the bother of having to smile.

Their guests vied for her attention with questions and curiosity. Most
were welcoming, and the few who took longer to warm up fell for her when she tried to use her broken Spanish for those who couldn’t speak English.

Shyness affected the twins who would only be carried by those people they recognized. Andrea
showed them off for a short time until Rafael wailed for his mother. Miguel, being closer, appeared and Rafael’s bellows quieted while his smile beckoned. He settled down happily in Miguel’s arms and played his part well from then on.

Carrie-Anne, a little actress in the making, held court
for all who wanted to see her smile and perform. Dressed in matching outfits, both wearing white, Rafael a tiny tuxedo and Carrie-Anne a ruffled gown to match her mother’s, looked as fantastic as they appeared in the photos passed around on the windows of digital cameras.

“I will take the babies to their beds now.” Maria, dressed in a
soft grey dress partially hidden by a white ruffled apron, approached.

“Maria, they’re fine. Look how well they’re behaving.” Andrea clung to the giggling Carrie-Anne.

“Look closer, Senora Andrea.”

The circle of friends around the proud grandmother all followed where Maria pointed and caught exactly what she wanted them to see. The tiny girl rubbed at her eyes with her dimpled chubby fingers fisted.

Andrea sighed theatrically. “You’re right, Maria. She’s ready for her bed.”

When Sheri saw Maria with the two heading toward their
bedroom, she made a beeline to cut her off.

“Maria, I’ll take them and put them to bed. You have enough to do.” Sheri reached out
with welcoming arms only to find her babies whisked out of reach.

“And ruin your lovely gown?
” The horror in Maria’s voice had been real and so was the shock on her face.

“Give it up my friend,” said a grinning Paula who’d stood nearby. “She’ll not let you usurp her nannyship in
front of all these people.” Sadly, Sheri’s hope to use them as her excuse to cut the evening short faded. She stayed and played her part until the festivities concluded.  All the while, she worried about what to say to a husband in turmoil.

Of course, the semi-sotted rogue was no help at all. He played his role of happy husband when necessary, obvious
ly where Carrie-Anne got her talent, but most of the time he hid out at the bar or on the terrace. Whenever he was called to perform in one or other of the wedding rituals, he did so with charm that went only skin deep and a smile that never reached his soul.

Whenever she tried to get him alone or even get close, he’d manage to evade her. She guessed he couldn’t stand to see the sympathy she couldn’t hide
.

As an anticlimax, when the last guest left, Miguel informed her he’d been called out to handle a security situation, and for her not to worry about him. Still suffering over his anguish, she gently hugged his arm.

“It’s fine Miguel. I’ll wait up for you—”

“No. Don’t. I’ll be late, maybe all night. I’m sorry Sheri I…” A step back out of her reach, a shrug, his hand halfway to her shoulder and then he just stopped and looked deep into her eyes. Whatever he saw made his jaw tighten and gray ice gleam. “I’ll call.” He’d reverted back to the same guy who’d stood in her doorway the first time she’d met him. The chip on his shoulder
was firmly back in place.

After the house quieted
, Sheri in her t-shirt, sleeping shorts and bare feet wandered back to the room where the celebrations had taken place. Most of the mess had been cleared, all the dishes and food no longer anywhere in sight. The bouquets of magnolias had been gathered and placed in a large pail full of water. Ahh! She found what she’d been searching for. With tiny scissors, she cut one beautiful bloom and secreted it to her room where her journal waited. Flipping back a handful of pages, she checked to see that the pink blossom from another bouquet was still attached.