Raquel's Abel (18 page)

“Your father bad, not you.”

“Regina is looking for the love my father withheld from her. So she tries to find it in every man she meets.”

“But you should not letting her talk to you bad all the time.” She sat down beside me with a look on her face like she was not going to let me drop this subject.

“I hope that by being nice to her, she’ll feel supported and will develop confidence in herself.”

“She getting confidence in being mean to her sister.” Maria Elena gave me long slow nods as if trying to grind in what she’d said.

Maria Elena was right. Regina even picked on my grandmother when she was in a bad mood.

She got up from the couch. “Next time she coming, you tell her she no talking to you that way.” Maria Elena disappeared around the corner.

I needed to be more assertive with Regina.

Chapter Ten

A week passed and Abel hadn’t surfaced. I missed his beautiful dark eyes that raked over me like I was an exquisite piece of crystal. I needed to put him out of my mind, though. He was a ghost and he was a chauvinist; he wanted to control every part of my life. It was flattering, though. Having a man think I was as important as the sun and the moon was a good feeling. How could I have a life with a ghost, though?

That night, Owen and I were dancing in yet another competition. I put on a new outfit I’d bought. Buying clothes before had been a chore, something necessary, but hardly pleasant, and now, I couldn’t wait to get to the mall to get a new outfit. I needed to be careful about what I spent. The bills were always just around the corner when it came to this house. Most of the money from my father’s estate was gone and my paychecks couldn’t pay to maintain a house as big as many hotels.

We rolled down the long driveway, Owen’s truck rattling and creaking. I rummaged around in my purse.

“Whatcha looking for?”

“My cell phone.” I shut my purse angrily. “Abel must have hidden it.”

“You and your ghost.”

I shook my head. He was probably doing that so I wouldn’t know if Mitch called or not.

“Ready to do that sexy tango move tonight?” Owen looked like he was about to burst with excitement.

I nodded and looked down at the royal blue dress with an orangey-gold scarf that encircled the neckline then hung down in the back. It would plummet to the floor just right when Owen did the dramatic dip at the end.

“We are really going somewhere, Raquel.” He banged his freckly fists on the rusty steering wheel.

“You are such a good dancer.”

He patted me on the thigh. “
We
are such good dancers.”

“But you have the drive and the enthusiasm. You live to get on the dance floor and many of those moves you choreograph are ten times better than what we see at the national championship.”

“Wish my family would come see me dance.”

I inhaled loudly. “You should invite them. Why not?”

“Why not.” His eyes grew dim as he pulled into the parking lot. “Because they wouldn’t want anybody to know they were related to the ho-o-mosexual dancing like a fairy up on stage.”

“They’ll accept you one day.” If I had a child, I’d love them no matter what.

“They’d accept me if I were the champion wood chopper, or if I owned the winning bird in a cockfight. But come to see me dance? They’d just as soon have dinner with Osama bin Laden.” The truck made a sick grinding sound when he engaged the parking gear.

Owen came around and opened the door for me since there was no handle on the inside.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll always be there to cheer you on.”

I was glad I said something kind to him because he grabbed me and sobbed into my shoulder. “Thanks,” he croaked.

“Don’t get yourself into bad spirits.” I pushed him off my shoulder. “You are going to dance much better than any Fred Astaire tonight.” He had to cheer up. Dancing, many times, had to do with the mood the dancer was in. No matter how difficult the moves were, you had to look like you were having the time of your life.

As if he’d read my mind, he pushed his chest out and offered me his elbow. I laced my arm around his and we entered the competition area to wait for our turn.

A little while later, we were on the dance floor and the sinuous Tango music started. With our arms rigidly extended, we waited for the music to draw us into the Argentine rhythm. Soon the parts below my waist began to swivel as Owen led me up and down the ballroom taking long exaggerated steps ending with dramatic about-faces. Owen pushed me and I arched back, hearing the crowd moan, then he pulled me into our ending pose, me with my hair dragging the ground and Owen bending over me. By the applause, no one had to tell us. We had qualified to go on to the next level.

We’d have to practice a lot harder in the upcoming months, and we’d have to design and learn an entirely new routine, one that was much more difficult than anything we’d ever even attempted. The problem was that I really needed to get to work on my Teddy Roosevelt biography, which my agent was sure would bring a hefty advance once the manuscript was finished and polished.

I’d dance with Owen, though. He was my friend and I owed him to do my best at winning these championships. I knew how much it meant to him.

After we left the dance studio, we headed for an all-night diner. On the way over, I told him about Mitch. I thought Owen would be thrilled for me, but he was quiet while we were driving.

I sipped on my water and nibbled on crackers and a salad while he ate a big greasy hamburger with fries slathered in ketchup. “You miss this?” He asked as he stuffed a few French fries in his mouth.

“No, not at all.” I held my arms out. “I’m enjoying this slimness.”

“That’s the problem.”

“Problem?” Was he crazy?

“You aren’t used to all this attention you’re getting from men.”

I felt defensive the way I always felt with Regina, but I knew Owen meant well.

“I’m not too crazy about this Mitch guy.”

“I don’t say anything about the guys you go out with.”

“That’s different, ’cause I got experience and you don’t.” Owen had a big smear of mayonnaise across his cheek.

I pointed and watched him wipe it off with his napkin. “What difference does it make if you’ve gone out with a lot of people? It’s the person who counts.”

“Ya don’t know how to read people, that’s all.”

“Maybe I haven’t dated a lot, but I’ve done pretty well negotiating with agents and things like that.”

He laid what was left of his hamburger on his plate. “Totally different, girl.”

I pretended I was looking out the window at the headlights whizzing by outside, but inside I was angry that he didn’t think I was able to carry on a relationship with a man.

“Just be careful is all. Don’t jump in headfirst.

Owen dropped me off after a very quiet ride home.

“Abel,” I called loudly as soon as I’d stepped into the foyer. The house was dark except for a light Maria Elena had left burning for me at the top of the stairs. “Abel Rollins,” I said.

“At your service, my dear.” He appeared on the staircase. “I am here for you.”

“Where is my cell phone?”

“I am fine, Raquel. H
H
ow are you?” He smiled.

“I don’t exchange pleasantries with thieves.”

He slowly descended the stairs. He had my father’s smoking jacket on again. “I hardly think you should call me a common thief.”

“Where is it?”

His lids rose seductively. “Right where you put it.”

I felt inside my purse. My fingers felt the phone. “I bet you think that’s cute.” I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed. He thought he could control me. I looked down at the display. There were seven calls from Mitch.

Abel’s mouth puckered into a pout. “How could you prefer him to me?”

“It isn’t that I…” I blinked my eyes and he was gone. “Where did you go?”

Silence.

“That’s why I prefer him over you,” I called out in the still night air.

“From Señorita Regina,” Maria Elena handed me a postcard with a picture of white sand, lazy palm trees and aqua seas.

“Having a blast. Love, Regina.” She’d written on the back.

“She not writing much, must being very romantic.” Maria Elena tucked her chin under and raised her eyebrows as she laughed.

“I’m sure it is.” Had Barry actually signed the divorce papers before he left as he said he would?

Maria Elena and I walked into the living room, where Grandmother was sitting ignoring the television blasting away with Spanish programs.

“Good morning, dear.” Grandmother smiled at me stretching the wrinkly lips out.

“From Regina.” I handed her the postcard.

“Raquel having boyfriend, too.” Maria Elena did a little dance before sitting down and turning down the volume with the remote.

“You have another suitor?” Grandmother turned her head toward me and raised her brow.

“I seeing him, very handsome.” Maria Elena grinned and nodded.

“You weren’t around when he picked me up.”

“Yes, I watching.” She turned to grandmother. “Nice car.”

“Abel Rollins is a delightful gentleman, also.” She stared at me without flinching, as if she were lecturing me without opening her mouth.

“You seem to be forgetting the fact that he isn’t real. He’s a ghost.”