Broken Soldier: A Novel (14 page)

“I would like the salt,” said the girl to Emily’s left. Salome. She had the still-pudgy face of a fifteen year old.

Emily salted her stew and passed the shaker over. “Your English is very good.”

Salome blushed. “Thank you. I have tried for four years to learn.” Her speech was halting and heavily accented, but understandable.

“Are you a cousin or a friend of the family?” Emily asked. The younger girl thought about it, and Emily could see that she wasn’t sure what the question meant. “Is your mother or father related to Maria or Yaya?”

Salome smiled. “Yaya is my family.”

Rafa leaned in, stage whispering, “She is a second cousin. Yaya’s sister is her grandmother.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it’s a pleasure to share a meal with you.”

Salome nodded.

“Is this your first time in Spain?” Antonella asked.

Emily looked up, unsure whether the question was for her. Everyone else seemed to be looking at her, so she assumed it was. “Yes. I went to Paris in high school, but I never made it south of the Pyrenees.”

Antonella pursed her lips. “You will find that we in Spain are better hosts, I think. More polite.”

“No complaints so far.” Emily hoped her lie wasn’t completely transparent.

“We also have better nightlife,” Bernardo said. “Come to the club some time. We know how to dance far better than the French.”

“And you’re better at football, is my understanding,” Emily said.

Bernardo laughed. “Absolutely. Tiki taka has taken over the world.”

“Tell that to the Germans.” Rafa kept a straight face when he said it.

Bernardo’s expression only darkened for a moment. “When the Germans win consecutive Euros and a World Cup in between, they can talk.”

“Are there any games between now and New Year’s?” Rafa asked.

“Of course. If you want to see a match, let me know. I can get tickets.”

Rafa looked at Emily. She shrugged. Going to a football game hadn’t been on her list of things to do in Madrid, but if Rafa wanted to take her, she was willing to try.

“Perhaps,” Rafa said. “I will get back to you on that.”

“It will be busy with the wedding,” Yaya said. “Be careful trying to sneak off when we need you, Rafael.”

He bowed his head. “Yes, Yaya.”

“He’s a good boy.” Yaya directed her words at Emily. “He just needs to be kept in line now and then.”

Emily set her fork aside. “Rafa showed me your library, Yaya. It is very impressive.”

Yaya beamed. “It is my life’s work. I am very proud of it.”

“Do you still read very much?”

“Every day. Maria bought me an e-reader.”

Huh. An eighty year old woman with an e-reader. Yet another surprise.

Yaya kept going, “I can make the text as big as I like. It’s so much easier to read.”

“That’s not something I would have ever considered,” Emily said.

Further down the table, Antonella and Maria were chatting quietly in Spanish. A peal of laughter rose from Antonella. She kept chatting, not even acknowledging that anyone else was having a conversation.

Emily picked her fork up again and continued eating. Long-dead ancestors looked down at her from the walls. Rafa and Bernardo and Lorena chatted quietly in Spanish. Yaya and Salome ate quietly, both lost in their own thoughts. Or at least not trying to sneak a word in edgewise to the other conversations. Emily felt terribly lonely in a room full of people.

Fatigue from the long day of flying crashed home in one massive wave. Emily’s eyelids felt heavy, and it took effort to lift her wine glass. Everyone else at the table appeared to be in high spirits, though she could see the bags under Rafa’s eyes. He somehow powered through the tiredness. It was admirable, even though she couldn’t understand how he kept going. A skill learned in war zones, perhaps? Or maybe from dealing with his mother.

Rafa turned toward her, nodding at something Bernardo had said. “Em, do you have any interest in going out after dinner? Bernardo wants to show us his nightclub.”

“I don’t know if I can. I feel like a zombie right now.” It took an effort of will not to yawn and punctuate her statement.

Rafa looked at her more closely, the fire in his eyes dimming. Emily felt terrible for being a wet blanket, but she really would pass out if they tried to stay out late. Twenty-four hours awake was not something she was used to handling, and the cat naps on the airplane hadn’t been nearly enough.

“Alright.” Rafa turned back to his friends, presumably to explain the situation.

Emily settled in, expecting to sit through another uncomfortable half hour until dinner ended.

“Have you ever been to a Madrid party?” Salome asked.

“I’ve never been to Madrid, unless you count the ride from the airport to here.”

“A Madrid party is best in the world.”

Great, Emily thought. Even the fifteen year old is going to hound me into going out on the town.

“You should rest,” Salome said. “At the wedding party, what do you call it? After the wedding?”

“The reception?”

“Yes.” Salome smiled. “The reception. There, I will teach you to dance.”

Emily smiled at the younger girl. It was an impossibly sweet offer, and while she wouldn’t have had the slightest problem refusing Bernardo--or Lorena--Salome was a different a matter. “Alright,” Emily said.

When she looked up, Bernardo had his eyes on her. When he caught her watching, he gave her a wolfish smile. Emily shuddered.

Bernardo and Lorena should get together, she thought. Two predators in different packages. It was disturbing to see the kinds of friends that Rafa had kept as a child. She considered that a moment, before realizing that he’d had their respect. So that made him what? The apex predator? The Army must have loved having someone like him. The Taliban didn’t stand a chance.

She waited as long as she could, then patted Rafa on the arm. “I’m sorry, but I need to go up to bed before I fall over.”

She didn’t want to abandon him, and certainly not with the likes of Bernardo and Lorena, but maybe Yaya and Salome could balance them out. It was small comfort, but if she didn’t get to bed, she was going to collapse.

“Of course, of course,” Rafa said. “Do you need any help?” He started to stand up.

“Stay with your friends.” Emily smiled to the rest of the table, but directed her words to Yaya and Salome. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner, everyone. I’m going to retire early.”

Yaya and Salome wished her goodnight. Maria and Antonella gave her stony looks. With a heart heavier than the oversized table, Emily trudged upstairs toward her little garret room.

#

Lorena’s laughter filled the study, overwhelming even the crackling flames in the fireplace. She had an armchair to herself while Rafa and Bernardo shared a sofa that was a little too snug for the two of them.

“And the clients are very gracious,” Lorena continued. “At least as long as I wear a slim fitting dress.” She shifted, crossing one olive leg over the other.

Rafa jerked his eyes away. Those legs had gotten him into too much trouble as a young man. “So medical school didn’t work out?”

“No, of course not. We both knew it was a foolish dream. I went into fashion. Madrid is not Milan, but these days, neither is Milan.” She did not so much sit as perch. The king’s falcons were no more regal. Or haughty.

“So tell us about the hand, Rafa.” Bernardo splashed more brandy into his glass and offered Rafa the bottle. “I didn’t want to ask in front of your grandmother.”

Rafa laid his left hand over his empty right sleeve. “It is gone. What more is there to know?”

“Well, how did it happen? I thought you were a modern Rambo.”

“I was in a convoy and there was a bomb. It happens every day.” He really didn’t want to talk about it, not with them. They were a reminder of an earlier, more innocent phase in his life, one that he didn’t want to spoil by mixing with the hardships and horrors of the last few years.

“Your mother said your leg, too?” Lorena asked. “That was the only way anyone could have ever slowed you.”

“Yes. It is not an easy subject for me. Perhaps we could discuss something else?”

Bernardo clearly wanted to keep asking questions, and Rafa had a feeling it wasn’t just the brandy driving him onward. Whatever Rafa told him, he’d be spreading to the rest of the city before the clock chimed midnight.

Lorena cut in, stopping Bernardo just as he opened his mouth. “Can you still dance?”

“I haven’t really tried.”

“Then you should find out. Bernardo is modest, but he is managing the finest disco in Madrid. We could go.”

“It’s getting a bit late for me. I’ve been up since yesterday morning. And I couldn’t go without Emily.”

Lorena’s face fell for a moment, and it was obvious that the part about Emily had gotten to her, but she nodded.

“So Bernardo,” Rafa said, “How many hearts have you broken this year?”

“A dozen, at least.” Bernardo grinned. “The girls cannot resist me, you know? And I tell them that I am a busy man, but they never listen. It is my burden.”

Lorena’s eyes glittered, but she said nothing to contradict him. Rafa considered asking her how many hearts she’d broken, but he was afraid to hear the answer. A dozen would surely be too low.

The last of the brandy found its way to Bernardo’s glass, and a few minutes later he set the empty glass aside. “Rafael, it has been a pleasure to see you, and I hope to see you again tomorrow night, yes?”

“Sure.”

“Then I wish you well. I must check in at the club and ensure that my DJs have not let the place be burned to the ground.
Adios
.”

“Do you need me to call you a cab?” Rafa asked, rising to escort Bernardo to the door.

“I am fine,
mano
. One or two drinks cannot slow me.”

It was more like seven or eight drinks, but he was steady on his feet. “Alright,
Jefe
, be safe.”

Rafa returned to the study. Lorena was standing, looking at a painting of two women in the Madrid plaza.

“It is funny how style is cyclical,” Lorena said when she heard Rafa’s footsteps. “If they put their parasols in their handbags, these women could go out in public today and not be out of place. Ten years ago they would have looked like they were from the moon.”

“And if they were men, they could wear the same suit for fifty years?” Rafa sat back on the sofa, the long day starting to catch up with him. Emily had gone to bed three hours ago, and he was wishing he could go join her.

“With different shirts, perhaps.” Lorena came over and sat beside him on the sofa.

A thrill of anticipation coursed through Rafa, followed immediately by guilt and a sense of unease. Lorena could still tie his emotions into knots.

She crossed her legs, revealing a long expanse of thigh. Rafa forced himself not to look, focusing instead on her eyes. Her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Are you happy in America, Rafael?”

“Of course.” He said it reflexively.

“There is still pain within you. It is obvious for all who knew you before your…” She gestured toward his leg. “The Army did not want you back, no?”

Rafa shook his head. “I am teaching in the winter term. For the Air Force academy.”

“And it is a prestigious position?”

“It is a prestigious school.”

“But those are not the same things.” Her hand grazed his leg.

Rafa tensed. “I was lucky to find the position.”

“You’ve always been lucky at finding positions, Rafa. Perhaps while you are in town…”

“Lorena, I cannot. We tried this once--”

“More than once.”

“--And it ended horribly. I have moved on and found--”

“You ended it, Rafa, not I. You are one of the very few regrets in my life.” Her eyes were soft and welcoming, and her lips were beginning to bend toward him.

Rafa’s body remembered their electric touch. The way they moved in time with her hips. He pushed the thought aside. “It is past my bedtime, Lorena.” He caught her hand and placed it back in her lap. “May I show you to the door?”

Her lips shifted from a welcoming kiss to a hard line. “So you break my heart again?”

It tore at him. He didn’t want to hurt her. But at the same time, he knew that what he had with Emily was far deeper, far richer than anything Lorena could ever offer. She didn’t have the same depth of compassion, the same tenderness that Emily had.

“I see,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I will show myself out, thank you.” She rose and smoothed her dress, standing there a few moments before turning toward the door.

Rafa walked with her. Her silence made him uncomfortable, but so did her very presence.

Lorena stopped with a hand on the door handle. “You should let the poor girl rest tonight, Rafael. She looked tired.”

“Good night, Lorena.”

Rafa stood in the foyer for a long minute after she left, forcing his heart rate to slow down. That woman had always been trouble, ever since they were children, and she’d only gotten worse with age. He trudged upstairs, hoping the rest of the trip would go better.

I
T 
was a surprisingly a short trip from the villa to the airport. Emily let Rafa do the driving, content to sit beside him and admire the city that flowed past. His mother’s--or maybe it was his grandmother’s, it hadn’t been made entirely clear--Land Rover hummed along in light morning traffic. Rush hour didn’t apply on Christmas Eve, apparently.

“I’m not used to the airport being so close to town,” she said. “In Denver it’s half an hour from everywhere.”

“Barajas has been here since the 20s. My great-grandfather was one of the first pilots to land on the original runway.”

“Really?”

“He was in the
Aeronáutica Española
until the 30s.”

“What happened then?”

“He died.” Rafa shrugged. “Civil war broke out.”

“He died in combat?”

“The story from the government was that he died fighting the Germans, but my grandmother did some research in the 50s. He died from dysentery.”

Emily’s eyes opened wide. “That’s terrible.”

“In the history of warfare far, far more people have died from disease than have been killed by enemy action.” He turned the SUV into a parking garage and eased them to a stop.