Raquel's Abel (23 page)

Relief flooded me. “We did?”

“Of course we did.”

“Thank God,” I breathed.

“‘Thank God.’ No thank God. We deserved that. We’re better than those mamby-pamby dancers. Girl, we’re gonna win this whole competition.”

As we drove down the road, Owen’s eyes twinkled and his lips were trembling as if he could imagine hugging that trophy as he slept at night. “We are going to win the whole thing. Aren’t we?” Owen asked.

I didn’t answer him as he pulled into the same old greasy spoon we always dined in.

We ordered the usual. I looked at Owen who was wiggling with excitement and felt a pang of guilt that I wasn’t as happy as he was.

“Who was that you were talking to right after we danced?” I asked.

The waitress put the greasy burger in front of him. I wondered how many calories the hamburger had. When I used to eat like that, I bloated up like a Goodyear blimp, but Owen stayed svelte no matter what he put in his mouth.

I gave him a look like I really wanted an answer.

“Nobody,” he said as he gnawed on the burger, a small piece of lettuce doused in mayonnaise clung to his cheek. I reached over to wipe it off with my napkin.

“Nobody, huh?” There was something he didn’t want me to know.

“Loraine Morrison,” he said without looking at me.

“Loraine?” She won the competition two years ago and then her partner had been hurt in a traffic accident. Was she interested in Owen?

“Don’t fret. I told her no.” His dark blue eyes looked right at me as he stuffed French fries slathered with ketchup into his mouth. He let his elbows rest on the table. “Don’t worry. I ain’t interested in dancing with her.”

I took another small bite of my grilled chicken. “She asked you to be her partner?” That was an incredible honor.

“Aaah, she’s probably a bitch on wheels.”

“I’ve never heard anything like that about her. She must not be too hard to work with since she has won a lot of competitions.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a loyal partner.” He gave me a toothy smile. “And, I like dancing with you.”

When Owen first started dancing ballroom, no one wanted to dance with him because they considered him an effeminate gangly hillbilly. But now he‘d proven himself.

“You should consider taking Loraine up on her offer.”

“No way. We got a good thing going, and once you finish that book you’re working on, you’ll have more time to rehearse.”

I looked down at the table unable to meet his eager stare.

“But there’s something else bothering you?” He grinned and eyed me suspiciously. “Is it your ghostly man?” He giggled.

“No.” I felt myself blush.

“You have fallen for that haint.” Owen leaned over, almost dipping his shirt in ketchup. “Tell me, does he have a brother?”

“Sorry, he was an only child.”

“Just my luck.” He deposited the rest of the hamburger in his mouth and licked his fingers. His eyes narrowed at me. “I think something else is bothering you, though.”

I told him about how much money it would take to fix up the house and then I told him about the orphanage idea.

Owen had been sipping on a Coke and he practically spit. “An orphanage?” He shook his head. “What a fabulous idea. Hey, I could cater your meals for the kids.”

“The way you eat, they’d be in seventh heaven. But I haven’t told you the other part. I can’t get any funds from social services for the renovations.” He shook his head. “No funds.” He leaned back in his seat. “There’s never enough money for the things that matter.”

I pressed my lips together thinking how much this was beginning to mean to me. “There has to be a way.”

Owen pointed at me. “Raquel, you’re a resourceful woman. If there’s a way to do this, you’ll do it.”

Owen and I were quiet on the way home. After we said goodbye, I walked into the house thinking of how I could resolve this issue. Owen was right. I’d had the weight problem, and I’d been able to overcome that. Now I had to figure out a way not to lose my house. That was much more difficult, though. I’d need at least a million dollars to do all the work that was needed.

I heard a clank from up above me and
 
looked up to see Maria Elena carrying a tray down the steps.

“Your grandmother feeling tired, so I taking food to her.”

I smiled at her and thought how lucky I was that Elena took care of her like she would her own grandmother.

“Forgiving me, Señorita, but you looking sad.” She had gotten to the bottom of the stairs and stopped and looked at me. “You having problems with your ghost?”

The tension I’d been feeling flowed out of me as I laughed at her question. “No, my ghost is fine.” I stopped and stared at her chest. The locket my grandmother had given her was in plain view since her blouse was buttoned low in the front.

“You looking at gift.” She blinked her eyes. “I know really belonging to you or Señora Regina, but it mean so much to me.” I knew she was nervous because the tray of dishes began to chatter.

Could the jewelry really be from Russia? “Maria Elena, can I borrow the necklace?”

She looked down at the tray. “
Si
, you can borrowing it.”

I knew she believed she’d never see it again.

“I liking because it from your grandmother.” Her eyes refused to look at me.

“I promise I’ll return it if possible.”

She nodded keeping her eyes away from mine.

I stepped behind her and undid the clasp.

As Maria Elena continued toward the kitchen silently I inspected the necklace more closely. The writing on it was so badly damaged it was hard to make out what it was. When I’d first seen it, I’d thought it might be Cyrillic, but now I wasn’t sure. It appeared to be some sort of emblem and the colors were incredibly vivid in spite of it being very worn.

What if Grandmother were Anastasia Romanov as she claimed? Was there a possibility the jewelry my grandmother referred to was really valuable? If so, could it be the solution to my problem?

Chapter Fourteen

The man at the jeweler my family had used for decades had said it would take over a week to get the appraisal. He’d looked at it, but said he couldn’t even guess the necklace’s apparent value or origins. I’d just have to wait and be patient. That was hard to do when I felt like wolves were at the door.

I lay in bed wondering if I’d be able to keep this old house. I thought of Abel and how he liked roaming the grand halls. The two of us belonged here. I still hadn’t given up on the idea of the orphanage. Abel and I should work together helping the children everyone else had given up on. A tingle ran up my spine. Writing gave me a wonderful outlet, but giving back to society was something I had never done; mainly because I’d been too much of a recluse. Maybe my father kept me so close because he was afraid I’d do the same thing as my mother. He damaged my sister and me with his fears.

I pulled the covers back and felt a twinge in my belly button. I pulled myself out of bed and looked into the full-length mirror. Raising my arms, I looked at the droops under my arms that looked like gigantic earlobes. Then I raised the skin that hung from my waistline like yards and yards of extra fabric. Above my triangle was a gigantic red rash and from the area around my belly-button, a horrible green-looking blob oozed. It was happening, just what I’d read about.
 
I had so much excess skin it was getting infected.

I needed this surgery to cut away the skin that dangerously hung over my tummy. The skin on my thighs hung so loosely it bagged around my knees. The surgery was expensive and I’d miss a lot of time from writing. If something didn’t happen, I would lose this house.

I made an appointment with the doctor. In the meantime, I’d have to take antibiotics and use creams to keep my skin from getting infected.

Finally a week had passed and I drove over to the jewelers. The man handed me the necklace in a tiny plastic bag with a large manila envelope. I opened it and began to read the appraisal. The value of the necklace was right around $200.

I looked at the man standing behind the counter. “Did the jeweler tell you if the necklace could be a Faberge?”

He raised his eyebrows as if he felt sorry for me. “I’m sorry, but the jeweler thought it was a rather run of the mill piece of gold jewelry.”

I walked out of the jewelry store like a puppy with its tail between its legs. I wanted to kick myself for being so gullible. What had I been thinking? That I was royalty or something? That I could just go and claim the Russian throne and kick out Putin and his cronies? I needed my head examined.

Now I had to come up with a real solution. Then I began to worry. If I lost the house, what would happen to Grandmother? I couldn’t envision her being happy in a condo. Then I began to wonder what would become of the house. Who would buy it? And, would Abel come with me wherever I went?

When I got back home, Abel was standing in the foyer as if he’d been waiting for me. He wore a thick gray sweater a turtleneck and baggy slacks.

As I opened the door and beheld him, my eyes began to gush and I bent over into a shivering heap.

“What on earth is wrong?” He ran to me and pulled me to him.

I sobbed on his shoulder, feeling the coarseness of the wool.

“Whatever is bothering you, I’m sure we can fix it.” I felt his voice tremble as if he feared the worst.

“If I lose this place, I’ll be letting my family down.”

He pulled my head up and looked into my eyes. “No, we’re not going to lose it. We’re going to find a way to keep this house.”

“But if I lost it, would I…” I trailed off. Maybe I didn’t want to know. I had come to live for my interludes with Abel.

“Would what?” His lips began to trail across my cheek giving me tiny kisses. “Don’t be so upset. Tell me.” He looked at me with his big, dark eyes.