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Authors: Mimi Barbour

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Chapter Thirty

 

Cousin Paula turned out to be a bubbly woman of thirty or so, with big green eyes, auburn hair and a smile that flirted with every male in the vicinity. Her personality made boring fun. Except for the flirting, she reminded Sheri of Mary-Anne, and so she took to her at once.

The first afternoon they visited the Plaza de Armas, a beautiful square in the heart of the city near many of the prominent older buildings with history pulsating and echoing from every inch of limestone and granite. Then they took a gondola trip up the San Cristóbal Hill to see the
famous statue of the Virgin Mary. Small kiosks full of touristy treats decorated the area with everything from stuffed llamas and homemade jewellery.

Never having had to learn a second language left her with no personal knowledge of how really difficult it could be. Mind you, once she let go of her shyness
Sheri began to make progress. Therefore each day spent together, they started with Spanish lessons, and then as they played tourist.

Once Paula introduced Sheri to her own women’s apparel shops, they spent happy hours choosing just the right look for a girl who had never fussed with her image or chosen clothes for style over cost. At first Sheri balked at spending so much money on her wardrobe, but both Andrea and Paula pooh-hooed her reserve. It wasn’t until sharp, old keen-eyed Maria kicked in with her two cents, “
You want that Miguel is shamed by his wife?” that blew her restraint to smithereens, and she began to have fun.

She
ri gave herself over to Paula’s expertise, and her preferred items of clothing, jeans and t-shirts, were allowed--but not off the rack. Instead they were designer items and so delightful that she found herself blessing her small frame. 

Added to those absolute necessities were dresses and nightwear and shoes and, and…
the list went on until only with a promise that she’d visit Paula’s hairdresser and spa did Sheri get a break from the buying frenzy.

Once seated in the chair with both Paula and the eager woman chatting away in such
machine gun Spanish did she finally demonstrate her fierce stubbornness. They would not cut her hair. Every night her husband tenderly played with the long strands and buried his hands in the mass of curls as his body took hers to heaven. No way would she cut off that which gave him such gratification and her so much joy.

 

***

Today, Paula had insisted they must visit Pomaire, a small village to the west that sold wonderful examples of pottery. After wandering for a few fascinating hours and watching the workman as they fashioned different kinds of
terracotta pots and dishes, Sheri sat at table in the local restaurant waiting for Paula to finish ordering their meals.  As usual, whenever she had time to daydream, her thoughts returned to the night before.

Ever since her serious talk with Andrea, Sheri had felt lighter, happier
and more forgiving towards Miguel, who’d put himself out each evening to be amusing during dinner and a wonderful lover after. Tirelessly, he’d take her from one peak of ecstasy to another while she slowly overcame her restraint, her shyness to touch and fondle his body in return.

Last night, after more wine than usual, she’d ignored their routine and chose to ride him instead of the other way around. His Spanish endearments, that made sense to her now, encouraged her, increased her gratification and lifted her to new heights.

All the while seduction poured from lips that played havoc with every sensitive spot on her aching body, his warm hands fondled her breasts, stomach and buttocks. Ultimately, he cradled her face, sweeping her curls back over her shoulders in order for him to have full access. So his eyes could watch the reactions in hers. And he might drive her to even new heights once she became aware of the persuasive seduction shining in his.

Breaking free from
her inhibitions, she’d goaded him with her mouth and her unleashed needs. Needs that claimed his body and forced his heart to be engaged—the outcome of total fulfillment rocked them both.

Noises nearby forced her to return to the moment, to open her eyes, wipe the moisture from her brow, and close her legs tightly.
Enough! Think about something else!

Think of the recent nights Miguel brought
Rafael and Carrie-Anne into their bed so they could have playtime with the babies before they fell asleep. Sheri had watched him encourage their smiles and babbles while he further delighted the rug-bunnies by playing horsey and tickling them into fits of giggles. The closeness and warmth from these evenings had lulled her into a false comfort.

Until this morning when he’d suggested he should legally adopt his brother’s children. The fact that they bore his last name wasn’t enough. He wanted rights to his own children
and as he’d so charmingly told her, the right for them to call him Papá. Now what the hell could she do? If she told him the truth, he’d hate her for lying all this time. But if she didn’t, she’d hate herself. What could be worse?

“Sheri? You’re wearing the strangest expression. Are you in pain?” Paula patted her new friend’s clenched hands and sat across, concern evident in her soft smile.

“No—yes, well sort of.” Sheri looked up into kind eyes and an anxious smile.  “Actually, I’m so mixed up.”

“I did pick up on that, mi Amiga. Did you want to talk about it? Is Miguel being a horse
’s ass? I bet it’s Maria. That woman scares the hell out of me.”

“Oh
, Paula, she loves the family and is the most trustworthy person in the world. I never worry about leaving the twins in her care, they adore her.”

“But?”

“She scares me stupid, too. Truly, it isn’t her that has me so worried. In fact, she’s been easier lately. She’s taken on so much of the twin’s care and softens whenever they’re near her. It’s a miracle how one lady can be so sweet and still so sour.”

“Like
jalapeno jelly.”

Laughing, Sheri nodded
her agreement. “She orders Andrea about like a motherly drill-sergeant, spoils the babies with cuddles and rides in their stroller and is besotted with Miguel.”

“What about you?”

“Me, she just watches. Unless Miguel is nearby, then she tries to be kind, but I’m pretty sure it’s for his sake.”

“Other than Juan, her husband, Andrea and Miguel are her whole life
,” said Paula. “Anything that might hurt them will have to pass through her first. Look, I know the circumstances of your marriage to Miguel. I bet it terrifies them that you have so much power…”

“Power? What are you talking about? I have no power, and I have no money. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”

“Right!” Paula’s hands waved as they always did when she talked, and when she got excited, they gestured madly as if a mass of hornets were attacking. “Exactly. If you would have had the money to pay for Rafael’s operation, you’d never have agreed to marry Miguel and bring the babies to Chile, would you?”

Sheri took the moment while the waiter delivered their meals to think carefully before replying. Paula’s raised eyebrow soon made her realize that she was waiting for her answer.

“No. I wouldn’t have come. Not then, anyway. But if Miguel would have explained about Andrea’s illness, and how important her seeing the babies would be to her recovery, I would have come, at least for a while.”


What about Miguel’s needs for the babies?”

She
ri thought for a moment and then honesty prevailed. “Oh, I realized he felt a responsibility for the twins. I respected him for having that commitment. But frankly, I wouldn’t have taken that into consideration.”

“What about the fact that the torture he suffered in Col
ombia ruined his chances of ever being able to have a family of his own? Wouldn’t that have softened your heart?”

What?
Sheri’s trembling hand seized her stomach while she fought for control. Bile rose in her throat like waves of acid heartache. She swallowed, choked and then swallowed again. An eerie sensation ran up her neck, then over the back of her head leaving a squad of skin cells clamouring and screaming, tightening like a vice.

Paula whispered with force. “Sheri, you’re frightening me. Are you okay? You’ve turned so pale. You
didn’t
know, did you? I’m so sorry. I’d have thought either Miguel or Andrea would have told you.” When Sheri closed her eyes and shook her head in a negative way, Paula continued. “Me and my big mouth. I’m going to shut-up now.”

“No.” Sheri gathered her backbone from the puddle it had formed and tried to reshape it by memory. She was strong
and also a big fat idiot.

Evoked by guilt, the image of Miguel playing with the twins and loving them so tenderly wouldn’t be shattered by excuses for her selfish
behavior. The fact that she hadn’t known of his plight didn’t enter into her mind at that point either.

My poor beloved
. Those words entered, took root and wouldn’t leave. Knowledge of his pain seeped in, and the evident love hiding in her heart reacted by flying right out of her chest, heading straight for his. Her husband. She truly loved him.
Oh, Lordy!
She loved him more than… too much.

Paula, clearing her throat
, pulled her back to their conversation. “Don’t worry. I’m so glad you told me. It answers questions I’ve had about some of Andrea’s comments. I guess she thought Miguel had already shared.”

“But he hasn’t.”

“No. He’s said nothing.”

“Since you already have the twins, he most likely thinks you’ll be satisfied with your family.”

“But what about him?”

“He loved Felipe so much. I’m sure that bringing up his children will go a long way to help him deal with his own situation. He’ll be their
papá, a wonderful role model, and love them as if they were his own.”

As an author, Sheri had always worked with words, knew their influence, their power, but until she heard that phrase spoken ‘love them as his own’, she’d never experienced that power against herself.
They slammed her directly against the walls of her strong convictions, convictions between right and wrong. She began to hate herself and her past choices.

To reveal her secret, tell her husband about her lies would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do
and begging for his forgiveness, even harder.

Chapter
Thirty-One

 

Tonight he’d be marrying his wife for the second time and Miguel couldn’t stop grinning like some infatuated fool. After their recent nights of lovemaking, her taking the initiative to be the dominant lover, he’d inflated a vision of ‘forever after’ in his mind. The beautiful picture wouldn’t go away. Thus, the vows presented for them to say this evening would be a lot more meaningful than those he’d previously repeated.

The house had been a hive of activity ever since Paula had spirited Sheri to the small village of Pomaire for the day. Trucks full of flowers and wedding paraphernalia had been arriving non-stop, while the wedding planners with blackberr
ies and IPads clutched to their chests ran from room to room overseeing the details.

There were strategically placed arrangements of pink and white magnolias
dressed up with ribbons and ferns to catch one’s eye. Many were attached in a dramatic display in the living room where they were to say their vows, while others were artistically arrayed around the part of the house where the guests would congregate.

The heady
aroma of the flowers attacked his senses. He stopped to take a whiff of the scent remembering how Sheri had tossed her wedding bouquet into a trashcan. Also how, days later, he’d seen the same flowers in a vase in her bedroom.

What was with him lately? His emotions rode too close to the surface for his liking. He shrugged away his nostalgia and decided to try
to grab a few minutes down time before the festivities took over.

He knew that Andrea
slept while Maria stood guard on her and the babies to make sure they weren’t upset with all that was happening in the rest of the house. Guests were due to start arriving in a couple of hours. Paula and Sheri were expected home later, giving them enough time to prepare the bride for a wedding day she’d never forget.

Andrea
, wanting to make the day perfect for Sheri, had been pumping her for information on her closest friends. She’d thought to fly them in on one of their charter jets. As it turned out, Mary-Anne had held that position of honor with Charlie coming in a close second.

Guilt chipped away a little of Miguel’s happiness
. He’d told Andrea that he’d tried and failed to get in touch with Sheri’s friend Charlie. In fact, he hadn’t even tried. Fine, call him a jealous fool, but he couldn’t swallow having to share his wife on this day with the man who she constantly professed to love.

Therefore, they’d have to rely on the Rivera family and their friends to be guests for this special occasion. Since Sheri had met a few already, like Paula, Miguel knew she wouldn’t feel too alone.
He’d be with her the whole time.

He tried to picture her face when she returned from the day’s touring to find the fairy-tale princess gown and all the trappings draped across her bed. He’d been forbidden to go into the room, but Andrea’s gushing descriptions gave him the perfect
mental picture. He hoped the outfit Paula chose would be everything his wife could ever want, everything she’d ever envisioned for her special day.

He had obsessed over whether or not to present her with the family ring before the ceremony or during. After all, the ring she now wore had been a
quick choice bought in Washington so he’d have something to give her during the ceremony. She very seldom wore it, saying it felt wrong.  This time the ceremony would be for real, meant to last forever. Therefore, he wanted her to have the ring she deserved.

Sometime over the last few nights of passion, he’d started thinking of his shy lover as his woman and not just his wife.  Many times, while at the office, her sweet face popped into his mind as he floated in and out of arousing fantasies. Then he’d rush home at night to make those daydreams come true.

Belief that a marriage built on trust and friendship could emerge to one full of happiness had started him on this journey in the first place. It’s what kept him from yielding to the hovering sadness too often; from dealing with the shit that the indiscriminate forces of life had thrown across his path. Things like how much he missed Felipe and how much he wished him here as his best man

One thing did bother him
, though. Every so often, he’d be surprised by a look of guilt Sheri wore that always had him cringing away from coming right out and asking her what was wrong.

“Miguel?” Andrea approached from behind and caught his shoulder, startling him. “
Charlie just called for Sheri and knows nothing about the party tonight. You told me that had been taken care of.”

He wouldn’t turn around. His mother read him like a book, and he knew he couldn’t pull off any bullshit with her. “I left messages. I guess they never got through.”

“What a shame. It would have been lovely for her best friend to be here with her. I guess the family will just have step in and make this a special night.”

He turned and wrapped his arms around the woman who he’d loved all his life, the woman who’d always held first place in his heart and
now would need to move over. “We’ll make this an evening she won’t forget.”

“Yes, we will. Now, here is Sheri’s
iPad and the last message from Charlie with the e-mail address. Please write this moment, and apologize for the mistake.” She forced him to take what he didn’t want, and left him holding the damn thing.  
Fine!
He’d write and cover his ass. No reason to lie to her later. This way he’d have the proof that he’d tried to contact her friend.

Miguel
didn’t mean to scroll down the page after he read Charlie’s scant message saying only that he’d call Sheri back. Except he did. The words staring at him made him physically ill. Beatings he’d suffered as a prisoner in the jungle didn’t come close to giving him as much pain that coursed through him at this moment.

My friend
, I need you so much. You know I’ve lied to Miguel from the beginning, and I still haven’t gotten up the nerve to tell him the truth. If only you were here to help me through this horrible time. Please come soon like you’ve promised. With your help, I know I can do what needs to be done. If everything falls apart, we can go back to our plans to get a house together.

Love you…

Sheri

BOOK: The Surrogate's Secret
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