“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“It’s good. You turn the world on its head.”
Luna leant away to look him in the eye, to see them wet with tears. “I hope you like that, because that’s what I have come to do.”
“You found Cayetano Ortega?”
“Kind of. Have I upset you?”
“No.” His face broke into a smile. “I just… I thought you weren’t coming back. I... I have something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe when the kids aren’t listening…”
“I have a lot to tell you. Big stuff.”
“It doesn’t matter what it is. I love you.”
“Then why do you look terrified?”
“When I admit my feelings to a woman, shouldn’t it be far grander than standing in the entranceway to my apartment?”
“I don’t know,” Luna tightened her embrace around him. “It’s cold outside, but we are safe and warm in here, and I can hear my children playing and laughing together. Sounds like a good place to be.”
“If you ever leave here, you will break my heart.”
“I think enough hearts have already been broken. I have always thought romantic love to be dangerous.”
“Who cares if it is?”
“It’s already nearly cost you your leg.”
“It’s a small price to pay to leave behind the life I had before I met you on the path that day.”
“Cayetano!” Giacomo called out. “Why don’t you have a Christmas tree yet?”
“We put up our Christmas tree earlier than Spanish people, sweetheart,” Luna called back to them.
“Would you like to go shopping with me to get one? I’ll need help decorating it,” Cayetano replied.
They both smiled at the sound of the kids getting excited. “You’ll be staying in Madrid tonight, I take it?”
“If you’ll have us.”
“It’s all I want. You take my life from black and white into colour.”
“You’re too much.”
“I thought you liked that.”
“I do.”
The pair sat on the couch, close to one another, a physical connection needed at every moment while the children played and talked. For a woman who rushed herself to Madrid on that cold Saturday morning, Luna was more than happy to take her time to tell him what she had learned on Rebalsadors mountain.
“Can we talk about what you have learned in front of the children?” Cayetano asked as he watched them play on the floor.
“I guess so. It’s not like they pay much attention anyway.”
“So? What happened? Is Cayetano not your grandfather after all?”
“He is. What Scarlett told my father about his heritage was all true. Cayetano Ortega was murdered, after the end of the civil war.”
“You know for sure?”
“Yes. Most likely shot in a concentration camp set up outside Valencia. I wasn’t able to coax out any details about his death, but I will try again. Now I know where he was, the possibility of finding records on him is higher. I know what happened to Cayetano, and Luna, and Scarlett, everyone after they disappeared from Cuenca.”
“Don’t hold me in suspense!”
“Sofía, Alejandro’s wife, died giving birth to their baby. So the whole group fled Cuenca for Valencia, to get on a ship and leave the country for good. Only Alejandro, devastated by the loss of his wife, left the group, and Cayetano went after him. Scarlett and Luna went to board the ship, but for some reason, Luna never got on board. The ship docked out, and Scarlett was gone forever, Luna somehow made it to Madrid and married Ignacio, and Cayetano and Alejandro were rounded up by Nationalist troops and thrown in a concentration camp.”
“I wonder if Cayetano knew that Luna was pregnant when they were separated.”
“She wasn’t pregnant.”
“How do you know?”
“Alejandro Beltrán told me.”
“What?” Cayetano cried. The boys on the rug in front of them stopped their game in a heartbeat, shocked at the raised voice towards their mother.
“It’s okay, boys,” she said to them.
“Sorry, your Mamá is telling me a grand story,” Cayetano added, and they turned back to their game. “How did this happen?”
“Do you remember that time I told you that I wanted to move into the mountains outside Valencia?” she asked, and he nodded. “I went up there to see a property, and I came across an old man that turned out to be Alejandro. It was all by accident. He recognised me because he knew Scarlett. He’s 95.”
“And he told you all this?”
“Yes, but with considerable reluctance. There are still holes in the story, but I intend to get the rest. But once I knew that we weren’t related, I wanted to come and tell you, even though he begged me not to say anything. I couldn’t see how I could not tell you the truth.”
“But how are we not related?”
Luna took a deep breath. “Paco is not Luna and Cayetano’s son. He is Alejandro and Sofía’s only baby. When Sofía died in childbirth, Scarlett was supposed to take the child and go to New Zealand. But somehow, when Luna left for Madrid, she took the baby with her. The baby didn’t perish, as Paco thought. Paco is the baby.”
“But that means that Luna Beltrán is not his mother, not my grandmother. My Papá idolises her. She meant the world to him, as shown by how angry he was when we went through her things.”
“Cayetano Ortega did love Luna and did propose to her. When she found Scarlett was pregnant to Cayetano, she changed her mind. Alejandro said that while her pride was hurt by the mistake, she still loved him. But they were torn apart by the war.”
“It’s all terribly sad, but I still can’t grasp the fact that we know Paco is not who he thinks he is.”
“Luna had a great love, and she lost him. She was left with her brother’s child, and raised him as the product of the great love she couldn’t have.”
“The pain involved in that is horrendous. There would have been no peace for her, only misery.”
“Luna and Cayetano are an extraordinarily sad love story. And Scarlett, she had fallen in love with some German man who was also killed, and lived her life alone with Cayetano’s baby.”
“But if she hadn’t had the baby, then I couldn’t have you now. You’re my great love. I told you, it’s fate we met.”
“Fate has been cruel.”
“I can’t be sure that telling Paco would be wise. He could easily go the rest of his life thinking Luna and Cayetano are his parents.”
“Paco seems ashamed of the fact he is Cayetano’s Ortega’s son. He thinks he’s the bastard child of an affair, and that his father was the same thing. He is, in fact, the product of a young couple who married in a revolutionary wedding, and had their lives destroyed.”
“But would that information give Paco any peace? It means his mother lied until the day she died.”
“It means that his natural father is still alive. He could have the chance to meet him. Alejandro is ashamed of all he has done and that he never came to find Paco, instead he let him be the son of his sister. He has followed Paco’s career, and yours.”
“He could have tracked down my father his whole life and chose not to. He abandoned his own family.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. We don’t have the whole story.”
“How sure is he of all this?”
“Alejandro looks like Paco. You only have to take one look at him!”
“Cayetano?” Giacomo interrupted. “You look funny.”
“Do I?”
“You look a little pale,” Luna smiled.
“Well, you did surprise me. Hey, little gentlemen, in my kitchen I have Christmas treats. I’ve got some turrón, some polvorones and some mazapan. Would you like some?” He watched two pairs of ice-blue eyes light up. “You wait here, and your Mamá can help me with the treats.”
Luna followed her limping companion in
to the kitchen. “You cook now? Or did your mother do it again?”
“Mamá.”
Luna went in to find the traditional Spanish treats, on the huge plate on the island counter. He had turrón duro, the hard almond nougat treat, along with the sweet almond and honey mazapan. The polvorones were the flaky rich almond shortbread cookies. “You’re a 40 year-old man, and your Mamá still bakes you sweet treats?”
The moment she turned back to him, he grabbed her and thrust his lips on hers. There was the heated passionate moment she had longed for, out of sight of the little ones. She found herself pinned between her bullfighter and his extra-large fridge as his hands searched her body for the best way to hold on to her.
“Next time you suggest we ‘get some almond treats’, I will come better prepared,” she joked.
“I missed you. Did I mention that?” His intense gaze may have been fixed on her, but one of his hands roaming her body.
“I missed you, too. But we will have two savages on our hands if we don’t produce sweets, and I don’t want you to serve my sons while with a raging hot erección.”
Cayetano let out an evil laugh. “You noticed.”
“How could I not?” She giggled as he brought his lips to her neck to nibble at her skin. “Later, Caya, later.”
“I know,” he mumbled, his lips against her neck, the rain of gentle kisses slowly made their way back to her mouth. “First treats, Christmas tree shopping, and a bit of happiness.”
“I was worried you would be mad at what I came to tell you.”
Cayetano stood up straight, a serious look on his face. “Preciosa, not at all. All this isn’t our fault. In 1939, Luna and Cayetano were split up by circumstance. It’s our duty to make sure that history doesn’t repeat itself.”
31
Madrid, España ~ Noviembre de 2009
Cayetano’s face started to hurt; he smiled so much that his cheeks stung in the cold air. People went about their days unaware of how lucky they were. Taking Luna and the boys shopping wasn’t a chore. The way he heard other parents moan about such excursions seemed like overkill. The department store was packed with Madrileños getting into the early Christmas spirit with some reluctance, but not Cayetano Beltrán. He bought a stupidly large Christmas tree and all the decorations they could carry. Jamming it all in the Mercedes was a mission in itself. He liked the way the kids had to stop and touch everything they laid their eyes on. He liked looking his rear vision mirror to see them in their booster seats. He liked the way Luna graciously smiled every time she heard someone yell, “mirar, mirar, pelirrojo.” Look, look, red hair. It obviously got on Luna’s nerves. Strangers came to inform her of something that thousands would have already mentioned in the past, and in a tone that suggested she hadn’t noticed that her sons were redheads. The boys seemed to know exactly how handsome they were; they just stood there and grinned every time they heard it.
What was the point of being well-known in Madrid, if you couldn’t use it to impress your girlfriend? Trudging up to a popular restaurant at three in the afternoon, no reservation, and getting straight in was a perk of the job. Yes, people did take a second glance when they saw him there with a woman who wasn’t his wife, and two little children, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let anyone get confused either. It was clear she was his lover. The way he held her hand across the table told its own story, while he listened to the children who sat politely in their seats against a window that let in the weak winter sun. The occasional kiss to the back of Luna’s hand sealed it for those still in doubt about their relationship. Cayetano knew this was what it felt like to have a family, something he could have as long as no one messed it up for him again.
There was the problem. Cayetano was smiling and happy, and grateful Luna had come to see him, but there was an obstacle. Maybe not as big as being related, but a significant one all the same. Luna had mentioned he looked terrified when she came in. He was. When she had turned down his stupid phone proposal, he had gone and had quick sex with María, in the armchair. It was nothing more than a drunken biological moment, one minute’s reprieve from the lonely world he had cultivated for himself. He had to tell Luna what he had done. But it would ruin everything, surely. Or would it? They had been in a state of confusion for over a month, not clear on whether they had broken up or not. He had told himself that they hadn’t split, but had acted as if they had. What had Luna been doing? Had Darren been hovering, waiting for her? This conversation would ruin all the joy. So, behind the smiles and chats and kisses, Cayetano sat in his chair at the restaurant and watched the kids make a mess of a fine dish of suckling pork, not sure if everything he dreamed of would last another day.
The day continued and Cayetano’s concern grew. It was dark by the time he had decorated his Christmas tree with the kids, their bright little faces so happy when they flicked on the twinkling white lights. The four of them sat in the dark, only illuminated by the Christmas tree.
“Why don’t you normally have a tree?” Giacomo asked him.
“I have Christmas at Rebelión, the farm,” he explained. “I’m not here much at Christmas time, so I never got a tree for myself.”
“So, when do you have Christmas? We get presents on December 25 in Italy from Nona Paulina and Poppy Max. Santa Claus knows we are there. But the three wise men leave presents under our tree at home on January 6.”
“That’s the same for me. I go to church on December 25 with my family, but we have gifts on Three Kings Day in January.” He turned to Luna, who sat next to him on the rug by the tree. “Are you going to Italy for Christmas again this year?”
“Yes. Fabrizio’s relatives are all the family the boys have. I want to give them a relationship with the Merlini family.”
“You’re a selfless mother. I hope people tell you that.”
“Never.”
“Well, they should.”
“When my father was dying, I wanted to thank him for all he had done for me. He raised me alone after Mum died. He asked me not to thank him for anything. He said if he had done his job right, to shield me from the burdens of the world, I wouldn’t have noticed what he had done for me. I hadn’t; he had done a terrific job, just the two of us.”
Cayetano watched her face turn into a frown. She tried not to cry. The kids sat nearby; she considered everything she did and said for their benefit, like her father had obviously taught her to do. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. Dad died ten years ago, and it still hurts. He was dying, and worrying about what would happen to me. He said that being 23 made me still a baby. That’s why I was so grateful to Fabrizio, he reassured Dad that he would look after me, and they thought that I didn’t hear their conversations.”
“That’s a noble thing for a man to do.”
“Dad went to Italy for our wedding. It was the first time he had ever left New Zealand. At least he was there to share that with me.”
“You were young to be married.”
“I was ready, and Fabrizio was a lot older than me, and wanted to get married. I already knew that it’s the little things you do, the way you act when you think no one can see you, they’re the things that define you and your character. To see Fabrizio at my father’s bedside, telling him that he promised to look after me, it left me in no doubt that I had married the right man.”
“Was that Daddy?” Enzo asked.
“Sure is.”
Cayetano watched Luna turn her attention to the boys for a moment, who sat so close to the tree that they may as well have started to climb it while they admired their decorating skills. “Marry me,” he whispered.
Luna turned her face back to him. “What?”
“I can be noble, if that’s what you want. I would devote the rest of my life to finding a way to prove it. Marry me.”
“Cool, can we move to Madrid?” Giacomo asked.
“No!” Luna said. “I mean, no to moving to Madrid.”
“Oh yeah, you
are going to work on the bikes with Darren,” Enzo said.
“No… well… maybe…”
“Maybe to the bikes… or…?” Cayetano asked. “La chispa, I can’t live another day without you, and I kind of hoped you felt the same way.”
A little smile crept over Luna’s face as she nodded gently. “Yes.”
“¿Sí?”
“But I’m no rush to get married…”
“Me neither, all I need is the promise I can be with you.” He didn’t even notice that his leg didn’t hurt when he leant over to give her a kiss.
“Will there be more kissing?” Giacomo asked, his little nose screwed up.
“At least they will be married, so it’s okay,” Enzo added.
“There’s always a critic,” Cayetano joked.
The doorbell rang, and he rolled his eyes. “Seems like a day of people just turning up unannounced.”
“We can go if you like?” Luna said.
“Don’t you dare!” He grabbed his cane and pointed it at her. “I won’t let any of you go.”
Cayetano didn’t even stop to consider who might be there. Right now he felt like any problem could be solved. But that feeling was lost the moment he saw María. That was back. His eyes were still adjusting from in the dim lighting of the living room to the harsh reality of what he was faced with. “Not now.”
“It has to be now.” María pushed passed him and went into the large entranceway. “Why are you in the dark? Are you in need of company again?”
“Luna and the boys are here,” he hissed at her. “I need you to leave.”
“Luna and the children are here?” Her voice was loud and clear, more than enough for Luna to hear her. “Well, in that case perhaps she would like to join us?”
Cayetano saw Luna flick the lamp on the living room, and come towards the angry pair in the entranceway. “María. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Not really,” she said. “I need to talk to my husband, but you may as well hear what I have to say.”
“I don’t need to be part of your business.”
“But if you and I are getting married, you are entitled to be part of anything you want,” Cayetano replied. Hopefully Luna wouldn’t call his bluff. He didn’t want her anywhere near María.
Secrets of Spain Trilogy Page 32