The front door of the mansion was hung with a large, dark wreath. All the mirrors were covered with dark cloths. After the funeral, Victoria became withdrawn and hid in her bedroom; she could not bear to think that Carlos, her wonderful brother, was dead and gone. He had been like one of her children and was so attentive to her. For days and weeks she was absent from the public, and when she did show her presence, it was like an aura of doom and gloom had pervaded her spirit. Her face looked even more drawn and pale contrasted against the black attire she wore from head to toe. Her attitude was haughty and she ate very little. The housemaids and Felicia and Dan would take turns helping out, bringing in Mexican casseroles even though they had their hands full with Emma and their own children. Carlos's death had been like a wicked curse—a poker hand, black spades dealt in a bad round. Victoria had no other choice but to postpone her travel plans.
In the following two months, Victoria had to rely on her strong will to snap out of her doldrums. She was determined to find someone who would help her manage the fields, machinery, and crops. With Carlos gone, someone had to work out in the fields instructing the workers and working the heavy machinery. The first person that came to mind was Pepito, the son of Miguel and Ellen, now in his late thirties and still living at Spanish Quarters. She would have to travel to Spanish Acres and make arrangements.
Roy was getting older, as were so many of the vaqueros who still lived there and cared for the cattle. Much of the milk, cheese, and butter were being sold to the local Mexican grocers in the smaller communities. Memo and José, who now drove a small Ford van, would deliver to the surrounding ranchitos on a daily basis. Cattle were slaughtered twice a week, split in half, and hung for several days; these were also sold to the local Mexican people and many of the adjoining small business proprietors.
By the end of March, the letter that Victoria had mailed to Fred in Tampico was returned. It was stamped "cancelled" in Spanish on the outside of the envelope. This puzzled Don Federico and became a concern to Victoria. In their grief, the two had no other alternative but to wait until they received confirmation of Fred's whereabouts.
During her visit to Spanish Acres, Victoria talked to Pepito and was alarmed to hear about the mystery of Yolanda's long absence. Yolanda was Pepitos oldest sister, and the family had been proud of her, being so astute in acquiring ownership of Spanish Quarters from the Juelson estate. Nobody in Spanish Acres had seen her. "She now spends most of her time in Monterrey, México," Pepito told her.
"And just what is she doing in Monterrey? Who is she staying with?" she asked, knowing the answer before she even heard it.
The answer came back quickly: "With the Del Calderóne family, of course."
Forgetting about her bereavement, Victoria went into a petulant rage. The bitch and the bastard! She thought, with hate seething inside of her. My own supposed husband with that hateful puta, Yolanda! The two had been planning something all this time behind her back, but she was not surprised. They were planning to take over Spanish Acres! No wonder Ricardo was so interested in the land she owned and was advising Yolanda on the legal aspects of the property all this time. She'd fix him. She'd fix the two of 'em. The bastard! Her Juelson blood boiled. It was amazing how her anger triggered and controlled her emotions, making her want to quickly act.
Pepito was startled when he saw Victoria's reactions. She was worse than a pregnant rattler with an impacted tooth, and he wanted no part of working for her. He refused and decided to concoct a story of leaving for Houston in the following weeks.
Victoria did not remember how she returned to Mercedes. She hit the door cussing. There was more news, a letter stamped from Monterrey, with Ricardo's handwriting informing them that Magdalena had died from some strange ailment that no one could cure. At first, she felt sorry for the dead Magdalena and the family, but she had expected it. Minutes zoomed; her mind began spiraling, thinking of Ricardo and Yolanda making a fool of her and her family all this time.
Fuming, Victoria began making arrangements for her trip and did not care whether it would hair-lip every Goddamn cow in Texas. Don Federico was not surprised in hearing Victoria's theory on Yolanda and Ricardo's scheming escapades, knowing, Ricardo's craftiness’ and Yolanda's ill-morals. Uncertain of what to say, he began chewing the inside of his cheek as he smoked his pipe, his eyes steely. Victoria called Felicia and told her the story. In thirty minutes, Felicia, who also had her hands full, but with concern, showed up, still wiping her hands on her apron, trying to calm her cousin in her raging tantrum. Victoria swore as she threw clothes, undergarments, hats, and gloves into several train trunks. Shoes were scattered everywhere in the bedroom. In anger, she had a lovely habit of throwing things, and shoes were handy and very appropriate—she had a hundred pair.
Victoria hired several more servants and wasted no time in giving orders to the household. During the Depression, workers could be bought for a dime a dozen, and in no time she had hired ten maids. Her instructions were to care for her three-year-old son and help out with the rest of the household chores. The cotton planting at Spanish Acres would have to wait. She would make other arrangements when she returned from her trip; there was still plenty of time.
Within two days, she arrived in Monterrey. After descending from the train; she ordered the cab driver to take her to the most expensive and fanciest hotel in the heart of the beautiful silver mining city. The cab driver drove her to the elegant El Gran Hotel Ancira, located in the downtown Monterrey's Zona Rosa. The hotel was what Victoria had expected: beautiful, built in 1912, in French architectural style. All of the décors was French imported marqueterie furniture and accessories. It had the classical marble floors and winding staircase. There were several exquisite shops inside the Gran hotel, ideal for shopping.
That afternoon, after reading Monterrey's news and informing herself about the funeral service for Magdalena, Victoria shopped for a white gown in the lobby of one the finest Italian shops in the Gran Hotel. She also purchased a long, blonde wig, expensive perfume, and dark glasses, and put them on. She looked like a million dollar woman. She walked out onto the sidewalk, not wanting anyone to recognize her.
She had plans. Walking along the unfamiliar Monterrey streets, she was a woman on a mission. First, she wanted to uncloak the two lovers, slap her husband, and knock Yolanda into kingdom come! Her unscrupulous, womanizer husband had used her to get the family's money and had become a married bachelor, doing what he pleased, with no responsibilities. Second, was the bitch Yolanda, who was his mistress, going around enjoying vacations, with the cotton money the Juelsons had worked so hard for. Victoria would give new meaning to the old saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Her mind stewed as she walked. She came upon the cathedral where Magdalena's funeral was going to take place the next morning. She studied it and went inside. Perhaps she would light a white candle. Maybe it would save her soul.
Early the next morning, Victoria, completely disguised with her blonde wig, black glasses, and a black lace mantilla over her head, slipped into the church. She found a seat next to the adjoining room where the casket was being viewed. From that area, she could view the attendance and watch the movements of each individual. Slowly, each individual dressed in black lined up and hovered over Magdalena lying in her casket. Tears flowed down their faces, and they used their white handkerchiefs to wipe their noses and eyes as they walked in an attitude of dutiful respect.
There were few people present, mostly family and some who knew the Del Calderóne family. She was surprised to see the revolutionist, Luis Del Calderóne, who had outlived the Revolution and now limped with a cane. Next to him was Amparo with white hair, looking older, but still attractive. Victoria recognized Yolanda from a distance, playing the part of Ricardo's partner. She watched her husband being so attentive to her, with his arm around her as they both viewed his sister's body in her casket, and with copious tears flowing from their eyes. How touching, Victoria thought.
Three heavy-se
t, older women dressed in dark clothing and hats sat in the front row. Victoria sat behind them and listened to their conversation. They were very talkative and gossiped and conversed among themselves about how Magdalena had died. They talked about the bereaved, handsome husband, now governor of Tamaulipas.
"The well-known doctor of Monterrey couldn't save her as she lay in her bedroom quarters for months," said the lady on the left.
"He didn't know what was wrong. He tried everything to save her. He loved her so much," said one of the other ladies.
They also discussed Magdalena's brother, Ricardo, who was so dutiful to his mother after her husband, the jackass El General Calderóne was found murdered. "The girl with him is from Texas, not his wife, I was told, but he is so smitten by her. She comes from Texas and spends many weeks at a time with him and his mother. Ricardo is so appreciative. I was told he buys her the most beautiful jewelry from the French shops at the fancy hotel Gran Ancira. She is wearing a beautiful opal necklace that Señora Calderóne gave her. They make such a fine couple, don't you think?"
"Where is Ricardo's wife?" asked the lady sitting in the middle.
"I have never seen her, but Ricardo brags about her all the time and all their money. He talks as if she, whoever she is, does not care what he does and gives him all the money he wants."
The lady on the right said: "How lucky! Who wouldn't want it that way? And why would he want to divorce the rich Texas wife?" The three snickered and lowered their heads.
Victoria was aghast. She wanted to voice her opinion. She wanted to tell them that Ricardo was less than a manipulating parasitic worm, the worst breathing, a crawling creature that ever lived. She wanted to tell them who she was, but decided to stay calm and patient—not her strongest virtues—and listen.
He buys her beautiful expensive jewelry from the French jewelry shops. She is wearing a beautiful opal necklace that Señora Calderóne gave her. The words echoed in her brain. Ricardo brags about her all the time, and she gives him all the money he wants. It made Victoria's blood boil with contempt, making her head feel like it was about to explode. Her mother-in-law was in cahoots with Ricardo and going around giving opal necklaces to his son's lovers? She had received an opal necklace from Señora Calderóne on her birthday. The opals were becoming a curse, a devious power play, and she would get rid of the necklace she had stored away.
Victoria gritted her teeth and snarled in her soul, realizing that she was in a snake pit situation and had to play her cards right. She would turn the screws from both ends in her aggressive rage, but she would do it in her own cunning way. Her mind spiraled: He buys her beautiful expensive jewelry from the Gran Ancira Hotel. Was it coincidental that that was the hotel in which she was staying?
Toward the end of the long funeral service, the Bishop finally blessed the corpse by sprinkling holy water inside and closed the casket. The nuns upstairs sang Latin hymns and left everyone feeling spiritual. The immediate family began gathering in front of the cathedral and expressing their gratitude to those who came to the services.
Victoria sat quietly observing. She noticed a young girl, who looked to be about fifteen years old, in a navy blue organdy dress, crying at the casket, sobbing hard. It was then that Victoria realized that the girl must be Juan's daughter. She got up and hugged her. As she did so, Victoria felt the energy of someone behind her. She turned and looked up. There stood the bereaved Juan, older, with white hair at both temples, but still devastatingly handsome.
"Thank you," he said, not realizing who she was. "Thank you for being so kind to my daughter in this time of sorrow and loss." He bent down and kissed his daughter on her forehead. "She needs all the love that people can give her," he said, as he straightened himself up and faced her. For a few seconds, Juan's eyes narrowed as he tried to recognize Victoria. His daughter left to be with the other family members.
Victoria stood frozen behind her dark glasses, not knowing what to say. Finally, not being able to contain herself in the presence of the only man she ever loved, she looked around, making sure nobody was near them and found the courage to speak.
"Juan!" She finally said, removing her dark glasses.
Juan leaned closer and his eyes opened wider. He viewed her up and down and then exclaimed, "Victoria!" There was a long pause. "Is it possible that it's you?"
There was a long lingering moment of silence from Juan as he hesitated to hug and kiss her. He would have never known who she was until he took a good look. "I did not recognize you! You do look beautiful in your blonde get up. Where are you staying?"
"The Gran Hotel Ancira," she said in a low voice. "Tonight, maybe have dinner?"
"Tonight, of course," he said. "It will be late after saying adiós to the many guests at my home, but we'll have dinner. We have a lot to talk about."
While standing so close to Juan, Victoria's heart pumped so fast that it felt like it was coming out of her chest. She bristled when she saw her husband, the Casanova, with Yolanda, holding hands and coming in their direction. She could not let them recognize her, so she put her dark glass back on. Victoria excused herself, saying to Juan, "Tonight!" and held her lace mantilla close to her face. Juan acknowledged by nodding his head. As she left the church, she heard Ricardo asking Juan who she was. "A patient of mine," said Juan. "A very old friend of mine. I've known her for many years."
Victoria ordered the taxi driver to take her to the oldest part of town, which was called Barrio Antiguo, where the marketplace was located. She was looking for a special shop. Many of the buildings had been destroyed by the Mexican Revolution, but the majority of them were being renovated and re-opened. As she walked down the long, narrow cobblestone streets, she enjoyed mixing with the throngs of native people. Many with little stands were selling fruits, vegetables, and homemade trinkets of all kinds. Other stands were selling tacos, tamales, and fruit beverages. Many shops offered silver jewelry from the silver mines up in the mountains; others sold clothes, boots, and colorful serapes. She came upon an older woman dressed in black selling strings of fresh garlic and asked her a question. The old woman pointed out a small shop down an alley in the next block.
Inside the little run-down shop were two older women who were busy creating homemade rag dolls on a foot-pedal Singer sewing machine. When Victoria left the shop sometime later, she walked away with a small paper package. She hurried to the end of the street and waved down a taxi to drive her back to the Gran Hotel Ancira.
Safe inside the hotel, she took the package up to her room and changed her clothes, trading her black outfit for a flowery, low-cut dress that flattered her ample bosom, and then donned her disguise. She took the elevator to the ground floor and began walking down the marble corridors, viewing the beautiful French shops featuring clothes and expensive jewelry. She entered the most elaborate jewelry shop in the hotel lobby.
She was marveling at the beautiful artistic designs of rings, bracelets, and earrings set with brilliant diamonds, emeralds, and rubies in the display cases, when an old man appeared from the back of the shop. "Is there anything I can help you with? He looked her over and sighed with delight. "The jewelry is very exquisite, and someone like you deserves to wear the best. May I show you any of this fine jewelry? Can we put any of the rings on your fingers?" He was charming, and definitely a promoter and a salesman.
Victoria chuckled. She blinked her eyes coyly at him and bent down exposing her cleavage as she viewed the display, trying to choose the most expensive set. "Let me see—"
The old man averted his eyes. He was obviously flustered but wanted to help her buy the most expensive stones. "Look at this ring with three-carat diamonds, and in the middle, a four-carat emerald from Columbia, costing many pesos," he said. "It is the most expensive ring we have." He eyed her again and was very attentive. "Whom might I be speaking with?" he asked.
Victoria lowered her head and batted her eyelashes again. "Are you acquainted with the family of Del Calderóne?" she asked snobbishly, turning aw
ay to view, other jewelry.
"Why! Of course!" he said, smiling broadly. "We have designed several pieces for Ricardo for his—"
Victoria turned and faced the old man and smiled sweetly at him.
"You must be—"
"Why, yes! Ricardo has sent me to pick up any pieces I want, and as many as I want." She laughed, giddy with her deception.
The old man took her hand and kissed it several times, sighing each time. With joy, he gently put the ring on Victoria's finger, enjoying the connection with her—with the ring, her fingers, her hands, her body, her shapely figure, and general loveliness. Ah, yes. She was a dream come true.
"I will take the ring," she said admiring it on her finger. She brought her hand up to her face and looked into the reflecting mirrors on the walls. "I would also like some earrings and perhaps a nice necklace with some impressive stones," she replied. "We have a nice dinner party to attend, and I would like to look important, extraordinary, especially with the beautiful white gown I will be wearing."
The old man jumped into action, immediately zeroing in on the opportunity to show her the most expensive necklaces he had in the shop. He began opening one velvet box after another, displaying exquisite stones of all kinds. "Any one of the necklaces would be very appropriate with a white dress," he suggested. "As a matter of fact, I have this diamond set with a necklace and earrings to match. This would probably be more appropriate. It goes with everything you might want to wear."
Victoria took her time. She was pretending to ponder and brought her finger to her chin as though concentrating. Finally, after letting the old man stew for a bit, she decided to take the diamond set. "Yes! I believe you are right. I'm so glad I decided to come to your place and shop. Ricardo will be thrilled with the items I picked. He asked that you mail him the bill."
"Why, of course! We have been doing business with the Del Calderóne family for a long time," answered the old man, smiling happily. "We are always honored to be of service. Ricardo and his mother shop here regularly. I cannot thank you enough for coming in and buying this beautiful jewelry. I do think Ricardo will be pleased."
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