Summer Dreams (14 page)

"And ask Esteban to come too." Pura smiled and wagged her head. "That should make for an interesting evening."

***

"Would you like another slice of roast beef, Hector, or another helping of mashed potatoes?" Pura inquired.

"No, thanks," he replied, patting his flat abdomen. "Dinner was delicious, but I have to watch my weight."

"I hope you've saved room for dessert. Natalia made it," Pura said, a note of pride in her voice. "She told me it's your favorite, peach pie."

Natalia gritted her teeth and glanced across the table at Esteban, wondering what he was thinking. If she'd had her way, he wouldn't even be here, but Pura had made certain he showed up. Sometimes, she could cheerfully throttle her grandmother for her mischievous meddling.  And this was one of those times.

But there was no help for it. She couldn't leap up and explain that her
abuela
was a consummate liar when it suited her. Could she? The facts were that she'd made the pie because a neighbor had given them a bushel of ripe peaches, and she hadn't told her grandmother it was Hector's favorite, either. His favorite dessert was a flaming concoction called Bananas Foster. Not homely peach pie.

Either Esteban saw through Pura's devious machinations or he didn't care if she made her ex-fiancé's favorite dessert, because he flashed her a reassuring smile and said, "How fortunate.  It's my favorite, too. I'd love a piece of pie and some coffee."

Hector, who looked bewildered, fell in and said, "Yes, I'll have a piece, a small piece."

"
Bueno
," Pura cooed. "Natalia, you clear the table. I'll get the coffee and pie."

Tracking her gaze from Esteban to Hector and back again, Natalia wondered about the wisdom of leaving the two of them alone together. Since Esteban had arrived, a few minutes after Hector, the two had been like flint and tinder, ready to flare into spontaneous combustion.

Stacking the dishes with as much efficiency as possible so she didn't have to make too many trips, Natalia offered, "I think there's a ball game on the radio. Esteban, why don't you turn it on?"

"Sure, I'll get it." He rose and walked to the ancient Philco, switching it on.

"Don't you have a television set, Natalia?" Hector asked.

"No, Pura doesn't believe in them," she replied from the kitchen. 

Carefully, she lowered the dishes to the drain board. Turning on the faucet, she sprinkled soap powder in the sink and plunged the dishes into the sudsy water. Returning to the dining area, she overheard Hector ask, "Aren't you a ballplayer, Esteban?"

"
Sí
, I play Double A ball."

"Kind of old to be playing ball, don't you think," Hector observed.

Natalia purposely pushed between the two men and bent to retrieve the silverware and glasses from the table. She moved with calm efficiency, but inwardly, she seethed at her ex-fiancé's dig.

"Funny you should bring that up, I've been thinking the same thing. I am getting a little old for ball," Esteban agreed. Catching Natalia's gaze, he winked.

Relaxing a fraction, she turned at the doorway to the kitchen with the glasses clutched to her chest. "Esteban is going to quit after this season if he doesn't get signed," she said.

Esteban's head came up, and he gave her a sharp look. She wondered why. Hector glanced at Esteban and back to Natalia, his eyes narrowing.

"How nice. Making plans together?" Hector asked.

Natalia understood Esteban's look. He didn't want her to acknowledge their closeness. Again, she wondered why. Was he ashamed?

Pura rescued her by calling from the kitchen, "Have you finished clearing the table?"

"Coming," she replied.

She deposited the glasses and silverware into the sink. When she returned to finish clearing the table, she was relieved to find the men listening to the ball game and not speaking.

Helping her
abuela
, she brought in plates of pie and cups of coffee. While serving the men, Hector abandoned listening and turned to Esteban again. "What happens after you stop playing ball?"

"I return to college and get my education degree."

"You want to be a teacher?" Hector laughed.

This time, it was Natalia who shot Hector a sharp look. She knew he thought teaching was a dead-end job, a chomp's vocation because you made so little money. But she wished he wouldn't express his negative opinions in Pura's home. After all, her
abuela
had dedicated her life to teaching.

"Actually, I want to be a coach," Esteban replied. But Natalia saw the effort it cost him to answer calmly. The knuckles on his hand shone white; he was gripping his coffee cup so hard.

Hector obviously didn't get the undercurrents because he asked, "Do you have another vocation, something to see you through college?" 

"I work at a resort," Esteban replied. He turned in his seat and cocked his head toward the radio, making a show of listening. To Natalia, it was obvious he wanted to end Hector's interrogation.

But his answer only spurred Hector on. "I'm glad you brought up the topic of resorts, Esteban. That's why I'm here---to discuss a resort development I've been putting together."

Esteban clenched his jaw and nodded.

Shifting in his chair, Hector's gaze fell on her and Pura. Her grandmother poured herself a cup of coffee. Natalia placed the sugar bowl on the table.

"Sit down, ladies," Hector said. "I want your full attention because I've got some exciting news about my development." He turned and faced Pura. "We need public access to the area, and my engineer has decided your land is perfect for a road."

Hector must have seen the perplexed look on her grandmother's face because he tried to explain, "It will give you a new road to your farm, Mrs. Alberty. Plus, some extra cash for the right of way. What do you think of that?"

Except for the radio announcer droning in the background, the silence greeting Hector's announcement was so thick, Natalia almost choked on it. Oblivious to their less-than-enthusiastic response, Hector sipped his coffee, his gaze trained expectantly on Pura as if he were waiting for the winning lottery number. Esteban's face was closed, his gray eyes hooded. The only clue to his reaction was a clenched jaw and the nervous tapping of one forefinger on the table.

Pura acted as if she hadn't heard the offer. She kept her full attention on her dessert and carefully cut the peach pie into tiny bite-sized pieces.

Natalia didn't know how she felt. Her first reaction was indignation, mixed with a good dose of rancor. How dare Hector say he wanted to see her when what he really wanted was Pura's land for one of his get-rich-quick schemes? She knew she shouldn't feel betrayed. After all, she didn't care what he did or who he wanted to see. But why did he have to bring up his development in front of Esteban? She didn't need to guess how Esteban would feel about it and the impact on his mountain.

"Mrs. Alberty, did you hear what I said?" Hector prompted.

Her grandmother lifted her head and speared him with one of her sharp teacher looks over the top of her spectacles. "I may be old, young man, but I haven't gone deaf yet."

"Uh, I didn't mean to imply that you ..."

"No offense taken, Mr. García."

"Please call me Hector, Mrs. Alberty."

"Why? You call me Mrs. Alberty."

"But that's a form of courtesy, an acknowledgement of your age and---"

"Natalia, this young man seems to have an obsession with age," Pura said and sniffed. "Wasn't he questioning Esteban about his age earlier?"

Natalia stifled an urge to giggle. She bit on her lip and covered her mouth with one hand. Valiantly, she fought the hysterical bubble rising in her throat. She glanced at Esteban from the corner of her eye and saw he was experiencing the same difficulty, but he was clever enough to hide behind his napkin.

Hector squirmed in his chair. His gaze snared hers, and his expression silently pleaded for Natalia to do or say something. She hated to rescue him, the low-down worm, but common courtesy demanded she explain.

"Abuelita, I don't think Hector means anything impolite. He merely feels more comfortable addressing you formally. But he would like for you to call him by his given name."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's just fine then," Pura replied. "You were saying, Hector?" Pura pronounced Hector's name in two long syllables, drawing it out.

Wiping his brow with his napkin, Hector pushed away from the table and said, "I've optioned some land to the west of your farm for a resort area, Mrs. Alberty---for a winter ski resort. Unfortunately, there's no public road leading to the land, and after surveying the area, the engineer decided the straightest and shortest route would cut across your farm. I want to purchase some of your land for a right-of-way to build an access road to the resort."

"You want to cut a road through my farm," Pura repeated. "What part of the farm?"

"The southwest corner."

"How many acres will this road take?"

"Well, it's not usually measured in acres, Mrs. Alberty," he explained, leaning forward.  "The road would be measured in feet or miles, not acres."

"But part of the farm would be cut off, wouldn't it? I'd have to cross the road to get to my fields on the other side, wouldn't I?" Pura asked.

"Yes, that's right, but you'd have a new road to your farm and cash in the bank."

"How many lanes would this road be?"

"Oh, two lanes with shoulders."

"And there would be traffic on it?"

"Yes, traffic to and from the resort."

"I'll have to think about it, Hector." Pura tapped her forehead with one gnarled index finger. "The gray matter doesn't move as fast as it used to. Age, you understand."

Hector's face fell, and then a kind of comprehension stole over his features. Natalia sucked in her breath. Did Hector know that Pura was baiting him?

But Hector shrugged and pressed on. "I wish you would give it serious consideration, Mrs. Alberty. If for no other reason, then consider your safety. That rutted road to your farm is dangerous. What if you needed an ambulance to come quickly?" 

Natalia held her breath, waiting for her grandmother's response. She wasn't certain what Pura would say. No one had more pride than her
abuela
. Hector telling Pura that her road was unsafe was the least persuasive thing he could have said. 

  "Aren't you overstepping your boundaries as a guest, Hector?" It was Esteban, not Pura, who spoke. "Where did you learn your manners? I was taught you don't come to someone's house, eat their food, and then disparage their home."

Feeling like she was in the eye of a hurricane, Natalia watched as Hector's face turned red and then progressed to purple. A vein throbbed visibly in his forehead. He leaped to his feet and angled his body across the table, thrusting his face into Esteban's.

"I learned my manners at the finest private schools in Dallas. Where did you learn yours?" He sneered. "You're a nothing, Montalvo, a penniless nothing. A dreamy-eyed ballplayer and Mrs. Alberty's hired hand." He hooked his thumb in Natalia's direction. "And I've watched you mooning around her. I know what you want. If she was still engaged to me, you wouldn't stand a chance."

Esteban rose to his feet, too, but very slowly, as if testing each of his legs before putting weight on them. With his fists clenched at his sides, he leaned over the table and every muscle of his powerful build strained forward. He opened his mouth to speak but never got the words out.

Pura put her hand on Esteban's arm and said, "I won't have such talk at my table, Hector. You've insulted us all. And I don't care what schools you attended." She also rose to her feet. "I think it's time you left."

Hector stared at her, his eyes bulging from his head. Natalia wanted to jump up and down and cheer. Seldom had she seen her ex-fiancé bested. But she should have known better, over forty years of teaching rowdy kids had given her
abuela
more than enough practice at dealing with rude people.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Hector glanced around and tried to catch Natalia's eye. But she purposely avoided his gaze and stared at the table, waiting. For several beats of her heart, he just stood there, looking undecided. 

Then he took a deep breath and offered, "I apologize for my behavior, Mrs. Alberty. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"
Buenas noches
," Pura replied, ignoring his apology.

He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. This time he gazed at Natalia until she felt that she had to raise her head, and he asked, "Would you see me out?"

"Of course," she said. 

Natalia slanted a look at Esteban from beneath her eyelashes and saw his hands clench on the tabletop and the muscle in his jaw jump. She knew he wouldn't be pleased, but someone had to see Hector out. The whole episode was embarrassing enough without making it worse.

"Thank you again for the fine dinner," Hector said to Pura.

"
De nada
," Pura replied but didn't look up.

Natalia wondered if her grandmother realized how much Hector hated to speak Spanish. Knowing Pura and her almost extra sensory reading of people, she'd probably figured it out and had decided to speak Spanish just to spite him.

Hector opened the front door wide, and Natalia took the hint and went through the door first. Outside on the front porch, relief rolled over her, and she felt as if she'd escaped from a burning building.

She crossed her arms on her chest and asked, "Do you know the way back?"

"Natalia, I've got to see you again. But not like this. I need to see you alone."

"Hector, I don't think we should ..."

"It's not like that, not what you think," he said. "I've got to talk to you about the farm and the road."

"Pura said she would think about it, Hector. Why can't you give her time?"

"Because I've offended her, and she won't consider my offer seriously."

"That's not true. She may have ordered you from the house, but I know my grandmother.  She
will
consider it."

Hector pulled his hand through his hair, mussing its perfectly-combed waves. "You've got to convince her, Natalia. It's for her sake and yours. That road is dangerous."