Raquel's Abel (20 page)

A little while later, I was riding in Owen's dilapidated old truck listening to its strange creaks and rattles. It sure was nicer than Mitch's BMW.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Never even met the guy, but I didn't like the way he sounded.”

I recognized his black slacks and the white shirt he usually wore to work. “You didn't have to blow off work just for me,” I tried to sound convincing, but I was really glad he was here with me.

“I got a guy to cover from me. I'm sick of that place anyway.”

“You should have your own restaurant. Then you'd be more motivated.”

“Yeah, and I should just go on and fly my little old self to the moon,” he drawled in his mountain twang.

“You'd have a great restaurant with the way you cook and with your business sense.”

“No, no, you're just trying to change the subject. I'm here because you had a date worse than walking barefoot through a brier patch.”

“It wasn't all that bad. I just suddenly saw him in a different light.”

“Sounds like you saw him in the light of day—glaring, overhead, flaw-revealing light.” He laughed as we pulled into the same greasy spoon as the last time.

We walked in and took a seat in the same booth as before. Owen didn't even look at the menu before ordering the same sinful hamburger and french fries. I got a grilled chicken sandwich.

After the waitress walked away, I said, “And it makes me realize how much I like Abel.” Just saying his name made me feel bad. He probably was really worried about me going out with Mitch.

“Your ghost friend?” He let his jaw drop with his mouth closed so his chin dimpled. “And I thought I was bad.”

“Don't laugh. He's the nicest man I've ever met.” And would ever hope to meet. “But he is a ghost.” I twisted one of the saltshakers around. “A ghost. Can you believe it?”

“Doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“He's a ghost. Like nobody else can see him, like he doesn't really exist.”

“You have feelings for him, so obviously he exists.” He looked at me. “And, believe me, the way he threw me down that day? He exists.” He nodded his head emphatically.

“But how can I have a relationship with a person that nobody else can see?”

He leaned over the table, resting on his elbows. “You're bellyaching about people not being able to see your lover to a gay guy?” He let his mouth hang open for effect. “Listen, all the crap you hear about everybody being open about being gay these days. Don't believe it, honey. Tons of us opt for lovers that aren't out in the open.”

“You're suggesting that I let myself fall in love with a phantom?”

The waitress brought his hamburger and fries. He stuffed one in his mouth before she'd even left. With it still in his mouth, he began to talk. “Listen, if I had a chance at real love,” he chewed some more, “I'd go for it. I don't care if he's Count Dracula or Willie the Werewolf.”

I took the bread off the chicken and began to take small bites. “That's easy for you to say. You don't know the frustration of having a man that's whole for just a little while and then he vanishes.” I remembered him turning into thin air while still in my arms.

“He didn't vanish on you. Believe me, I know about the vanishing kind. He was there. You just couldn't see him. That's not vanishing.”

That was true. I never had truly felt alone when Abel and I were getting along and even the arguments we'd had were about him caring too much for my grandmother and me.

“If I were you, I'd go for that ghost. Screw the rest of the world.”

When Owen brought me home, it was just a little past nine. I walked in the door and saw Abel standing right in the middle of the foyer in his Top hat and tails.

“Such a vision of loveliness.” He bent over and slid his hat off his head.

I didn’t want to admit it, but it felt so good to see him again.

He raised back up. “Home so early. You must have tired of your friend Mitch's witty conversation.”

Could he have followed me on this date, too? No, if he had he would have walloped Mitch. That would have been an interesting sight.

“You're here just to gloat,” I accused.

“Not so.” He focused on me. “You look like the air's been let out of your tires.” He puffed his chest out. “What has he done to you?” He stepped toward me, his shiny leather shoes making a tapping sound as he walked.

My shoulders sagged. “Nothing.” I laid my purse down on a small table.

“If he has done something to you,” he raised his white-gloved hand and extended his index finger, “he will learn the wrath of Abel Rollins.”

“Relax. He only brought me back to reality.”

“And what is reality?” His forehead was wrinkled and his lips pinched as if he were suffering seeing me unhappy.

Reality? What was it? I didn’t want to know what reality was. I liked what I saw right in front of me. “I think I'm struggling with that.”

“I don't like seeing you struggle.” He stepped so close I caught the faint fragrance of cedar that emanated from his clothes.

“I'll be all right.” I looked into his eyes. The dark color of his pupils always reminded me of pure milk chocolate. I stepped toward him.

“Raquel, I hope you can forgive me for…”

I moved my hands forward and slipped them between his biceps and his chest. He wound his arms around me and once again I felt whole. What had I seen in Mitch?

His lips descended onto mine and I dug my tongue into his mouth wanting him like a real man.

“Señorita.”

We pulled away from each other to see Maria Elena running down the stairs, her arms flailing and her nightgown jiggling around her.

“Señorita Raquel, your grandmother making sick.”

“What?” My stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor.

Abel wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders.

“What's the matter?” I squeaked out.

Maria Elena stepped onto the floor in her bare feet making a sliding sound. “She grabbing her chest and much in pain.”

I slipped my heels off and charged upstairs. I stopped. “Maria Elena. Call 911 and then call her doctor.”

“
Si
, I calling.” She ran out of the foyer and I ran upstairs.

Was she in pain? What was the last thing I said to her? I couldn't think about that right now.

When I got to her, Grandmother was laying very still in the bed looking at the ceiling.

“Grandmother, speak to me.”

“Raquel.” She slid her hand toward me.

I grasped it and shuddered at how cool it was.

“Don’t let them take me.”

“Everything’s all right. We called 911 so the paramedics will be here soon.”

Muscles tightened around her eyes. “Don’t let them take me.”

“They’ll just check you out, give you oxygen probably, and get you to the hospital.”

I heard the front door open. “Up here,” I screamed.

Footsteps sounded on the circular staircase and then the sound of wheels and clanging metal. They were probably bringing the stretcher with them.

Grandmother’s finger tightened around mine. “Bolsheviks.” She gasped for air. “I always knew they’d come for me.”

“Bolsheviks?” They were the ones who killed Rasputin and the Russian royal family.

“Relax, there are no Bolsheviks in this country.” I turned my head to see a man in a blue jacket with EMT printed on one side. “I think she had a heart attack.”

“Raquel, they’re here to take me away.”

“No, Grandmother. They’re here to help you. They’re American.”

She feebly pulled the sheet to her chin. “No, they’ll do to me what they did to Mama and Papa.”

The EMT pulled out a stethoscope and bent over Grandmother.

“No, please, Raquel, don’t let this Bolshevik man touch me.” Her voice was surprisingly strong, but her skin was still very pale. She held her hand up to keep the man away.

The EMT vanished into the hallway.

“Grandmother, you need medical attention.” My voice turned hard as if reprimanding a child.

“What happening?” Maria Elena entered the room. “The EMT people looking at me funny.”

“Don’t worry. Dr. Blake is on his way.”

Chapter Twelve

I stayed with Grandmother while the EMTs waited. “Dr. Blake will be here soon.”

She feigned a smile then attempted to raise her head but couldn’t.

“Just relax.” I put my head on her shoulder then stood up to adjust her pillows.

“The j-j-jewels,” she raspily whispered.

The door opened and white-haired Dr. Blake walked in with his little black bag. He was the same doctor who had treated my father and my grandfather. I didn’t know his age, but he got around in spite of a stoop and a limp that somehow made him appear more dignified.

Without even looking at my grandmother, he turned to me. “Raquel, your grandmother’s heart is weak.”

He’d shown me her EKG results months ago, but I’d put that bad news out of my mind until now. I nodded and walked to the door, knowing he was trying to prepare me.

“Mrs. Blankenship, how are you this evening?” He sat down on the bed and pulled out his stethoscope.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” I said, but he didn’t turn around. He was already listening to Grandmother’s chest. I stepped out into the hall.

“Don’t tell me she worse.” Maria Elena’s eyes were red as if she’d been crying.

“No, I don’t think she’s worse.” I wasn’t sure if that were the truth.

“I no knowing what I do if she die.” She wrung her hands as if she were Lady MacBeth.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to live in this big place by myself.” I assumed she was worried about where she’d go if she didn’t have my grandmother to take care of.

Her head fell into her hands. “Your grandmother only family I having.”

“Don’t be silly. You have family back in Ecuador.”

“My family no want me. Your grandmother making me feeling good like my real grandmother used to.”

It pulled at my heartstrings that she cared so much about Grandmother. “You should visit your family more often.” She’d never taken any kind of vacation in all the years she worked for me.

“No. I can’t. My father never forgive me, and he say my mother and grandmother no can talk to me.”

I gulped. “Your father actually said your mother couldn’t talk to her own daughter?”

“S
i
, he saying that when I found out I pregnant. I wanting to die inside.”

“Well, I’m sure your mother didn’t agree with that.” Now I finally understood why Maria Elena was so attached to my grandmother.

“My mother always do what my father saying.” She kneaded her hands together then looked up at me. “She dying, Señorita Raquel?”

“I hope not, Maria Elena.” I laid my arm across her shoulders and guided her to the steps. “Let’s go down and drink a cup of tea while the doctor’s in with Grandmother.

We walked down the steps and were half way through the foyer when the front door opened.

Regina was standing there, her eyes glassy and her usually alabaster skin bright red.

“Did you call my sister?” I turned to Maria Elena.

She shook her head. “No, I no calling her.”

“How did you know about Grandmother?” I asked Regina.

She tried to take a deep breath but choked. “It’s Barry. He just told me he’s getting back with his wife.”

“No. I thought he signed the divorce papers before you went to the Caribbean.”

“You haven’t heard the worst yet.” She looked up at the ceiling then her eyes filled with tears. “They’re expecting a baby.” She ran toward me then sobbed on my shoulder.

I stepped back. “Regina, I honestly do care about your life, but right now I’m worried about Grandmother.”

She jumped back as if I’d slapped her. “Grandmother?”

Maria Elena slid her slippered feet toward us. “Yes, the doctor with her now.”

Regina took a deep breath, looked down at the floor, then at me. “She’s just like Father. They all liked you and never cared for me.”

I bristled. “That’s not true. Grandmother has always loved us equally.” I put my hands on my hips. “You know, not everything is about you, Regina.”

Maria Elena nodded at me as if she were my own cheering squad.

Regina straightened up. Her tears had stopped.

“Maria Elena and I were on our way to have some tea while we wait for the doctor. You can join us if you’d like.”

Regina took several deep breaths. “No, I’m going home. Call me if there’s any change.” She turned and walked out, not even saying goodbye.

“Your poor sister,” said a deep voice.

A big smile crawled across my face. I turned and saw Abel.

His deep dark eyes drooped sadly at me.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“The ghost?” Maria Elena’s eyes got so wide I thought her eyeballs would fall out.

“A wonderful ghost.” I didn’t care if she saw me hug thin air.

“Your grandmother seems to be breathing easier. The doctor gave her something.” I could feel the baritone quality of Abel’s voice resonate against me as he talked.

I pulled away sharply as I saw Dr. Blake descending the stairs.

“She being all right?” Maria Elena asked, looking like she’d fall over if he gave her the wrong answer.

He gave a faint smile. “She’s resting peacefully now.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and put a prescription into my hand. “I gave her some medication I always carry with me for such occasions. She’ll be all right, but her heart is very weak.”

I’d known she had some heart problems, but I just didn’t think…

“She’s had a mild heart attack.”

“Heart attack?”

“You should remember that the last time she had an EKG, it was obvious she’s suffered many of these small attacks.”

“So, she needs to go to the hospital. I’ll…we’ll have to insist.”

“No, no.” His white eyebrows raised and lowered. “The journey to a hospital would only weaken her and at her age, mild heart attacks are to be expected.”

“She’s only seventy-eight.”

He got the kind of smile usually seen when a child does something naughty but cute. “Your grandmother may tell you she’s seventy-eight, but I estimate her age to be at least ninety-eight.”

“But my grandmother can’t be…”

Abel put his arm around me and whispered in my ear. “Let it go.”

Dr. Blake walked toward the door. “Let your grandmother stay here in the house where she’s comfortable. A hospital environment would only be torture for a lady like her.” He opened the door. “Good night. Call me if there are any changes.”

Maria Elena locked the door. “She all right. I so happy.” She started up the stairs. “You staying here with your ghost. I going upstairs.” She giggled.

Tears welled up and I winced at the sting. “You were very right.”

“About what?” He ran his hands down my back.

“I never should have even listened to Regina when she mentioned putting her in a home.”

He opened his mouth to respond.

“I should have known that wasn’t a good idea. What if she’d been in that place when this happened?” The guilt made me tremble.

“Your sister can be as toxic as a bad case of poison ivy and it isn’t your fault.” He pulled me close and kissed my cheek.

I remembered the doctor’s statement about my grandmother’s age. “Abel, if Grandmother is as old as the doctor says.” I gulped and shivered with the thought. “Could she be Anastasia Romanov?”