by Mimi Barbour
Not having really appreciated Marie-Anne’s description of Santiago being a modern and extremely large city, Sheri found her mouth dropping open, literally, as they traveled through the outskirts. She noticed that many of the apartment-styled buildings had gardens growing along their balconies with trees and hanging vines that covered large areas. It enchanted her to see bleak walls looking so beautiful. She couldn’t wait to take expeditions and see for herself the old-world history alongside the progressive conveniences.
Eventually, Juan pulled through large, black, scrolled iron gates that smoothly swung open. Sheri tried to look everywhere at once. Since the dawn hadn’t fully completed its overture, she still couldn’t see much, but what she saw made her blink and then again.
Mary-Anne’s pictures hadn’t done the estate justice. Huge and magnificent were two expressions that came to mind when she spied the older, pink-brick, colonial styled home spread behind the curved driveway. Manicured lawns surrounded the columned building and various groupings of palm trees. Fancy pot lights highlighted the many balconies and terraces, especially focussing on the vibrant plant life and colorful flowers.
“Close your mouth, Sweetheart.” Miguel grinned back at her. “I know it’s a bit overwhelming, but try to think of it as home.”
She spread her hands and gasped. “I’ll never get used to this... grandeur. Miguel, it’s breathtaking.”
He nodded, looking satisfied. “Come, let’s get these babies into the house so they can meet their grandmother, who I’m sure is doing a two-step by the doorway now that she’s seen the car. Maria’s probably got her in a headlock to hold her back.”
Miguel wasn’t far off. As soon as they started up the stairs to the front door, it flew open wide. “Miguel, hurry and bring those babies inside. I can’t wait another minute.”
The woman, outlined by the light from the entryway, looked as excited as a child at Christmas. The closer Sheri got she could see the pale lined face had undergone suffering, tremendous suffering, and yet the glassy eyes, full of delight, also presented a slightly childish look to his mother’s face.
The woman was slim to gaunt and her dark hair groomed in a shorter style that suited her. Her out-flung hands waved excitedly until both baby seats were placed on the large table in the center of the foyer. Andrea Rivera gazed at the two tiny faces that returned her stare, identical gray eyes twinkling as they gurgled and waved.
“Oh. They’re gorgeous. Such beautiful babies. Maria, Juan, come see my wonderful grandchildren.” She stood, hands clasped together under her chin as it wobbled with emotion.
“Are they not what you expected, Senora? Two babies. One boy, one girl, both Riveras.” Juan winked and stooped to deposit the lighter bags since Miguel had carried in the heavy ones.
“Oh Juan, don’t tease. They are precious. Felipe would be so happy.” As soon as he heard her speak the name of his brother, Miguel moved swiftly to her side, but she waved him away. “I’m fine. Don’t fuss. Nothing can spoil my happiness today.”
Andrea turned to look at Sheri who had also stepped closer when her voice broke over the name of her lost son. “My dear, I am so very happy to welcome you to our family and your new home.” So saying, she took Sheri in her arms and held her close, the boniness in her frame accentuated by her recent illness.
A wonderful flowery scent floated around Sheri and she instantly fell in love with the smell and knew from this day on, she would attribute it to Miguel’s beloved mamá.
Having lost her precious mother years before, Sheri felt the ache she’d carried ever since begin to fade. Here was a person she knew she could love, a grandmother for her babies and hopefully, for her, a new friend.
Maria, a stout dark-haired woman, who’d stood in the doorway till then, stepped forward. Her searching gaze held Sheri riveted while penetrating black pupils searched her soul. Uncomfortable, Sheri looked towards Miguel for help. Already this woman doesn’t like me, she thought, panic catching her unawares. What had she done?
Miguel must have noticed her discomfort because he quickly put his arms around the older woman and coaxingly he said. “Maria, stop trying to scare my wife. She’s tired and hungry from looking after the babies during the flight. Play nice, now.”
Maria reached her hand up to his cheek and her expression underwent a complete change from ‘don’t-mess-with-me’ to ‘my-beloved-boy-is home.’ If Sheri hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed the sourpuss could wear such a gentle look. “Don Miguel, you are better.”
“Cradling her gnarled hands he gently kissed both her cheeks, nodded, and then pointed to Sheri. “Make my wife welcome, Maria. Por favor.” He pushed her forward.
“Señora Sheri, Bienvenida.” Maria made no move to connect by touch, but she did bend the sides of her mouth slightly upwards. Harshness resonated in a voice that had been pure sweetness when she’d talked to Miguel.
All of a sudden, her squinting eyes caught the movement of flailing hands, and she turned towards the babies. She looked first at Carrie-Anne and she tenderly reached towards the bright-eyed little girl who grinned to show off her toothless gums. Beaming now, Maria turned towards Rafael and caught him with the roguish smile he saved for only those he liked. Her eyes flew to Sheri’s face and her expression hardened instantly.
Sheri connected to that look and then checked to see if anyone else had noticed. Sensing uneasiness, Andrea made a move to break up the uncomfortable moment. Sheri caught her mother-in-law’s puzzlement at Maria’s odd behavior and she understood Miguel’s mother wanted to smooth over the weird actions of her housekeeper.
“Come; let us move everyone into the family room where it’s cozy. I admit to feeling the cold much more than I used to in these July winter months.”
Normally, luxurious and comfortable wouldn’t be used in the same description, but in this case it fit perfectly. Pale golden walls hosting various large flower paintings, an abundance of ivory sheers long enough to pool on the red floor tiles and colorful couches and chairs filled a vast room where the fireplace ruled. Andrea made her way to a recliner near a table supporting books, a cell phone and an iPad.
For the next while, both babies were fawned over, not only by their grandmother, but also Juan and Maria took their turns. Soon the little ones, needing food and their beds, became grouchy.
“Are you still breastfeeding my dear? Andrea asked.
“Not since Rafael’s stay at the hospital. They’ve taken to drinking from a sippy-cup quite well during the day and at night they’ve settled to having a bottle. Rafael has some catching up to do with his sister, but since his operation, I can’t believe the weight he’s gained. He’s always hungry. He’ll soon surpass Carrie-Anne.” The little man under discussion let out a furious wail, which drew all eyes his way. “And when he’s hungry, he isn’t one to be shy about it.”
Laughter broke out, and Rafael stopped the caterwauling and bestowed his famous impish grin to all who stood near.
Andrea, still smiling, spoke first. “Carrie-Anne`s fairness takes after you Sheri, but I’m pleased to see that your dark-haired son resembles more the Rivera side.”
“If you’re talking temperament, then I agree.” Sheri chuckled but quickly stopped after she realized exactly what she’d said. A throat clearing had her glancing towards Maria, who had moved to wait by the open door.
Andrea chuckled, obviously enjoying Sheri’s banter. “Miguel, I’ve had Juan move me from the master suite and they’ve set it up for you and Sheri to move into. We’ve had some quick renovations done, but you must change anything that isn’t right for you. You’ll have more privacy there, but this whole house is now your home.” She turned to speak to Sheri. “I mean it, Sheri. Please know you are free to make any changes you wish. In my mind, it is I who am your guest and happily ensconced in the guest suite.”
“Mamá, what are saying?”
“Miguel, do not argue. As newlyweds, this is your home, and should be run as you ple
ase. If you’d rather, we can leave things the way they are for now, but as soon as you feel it’s time, Sheri and you must take over.” After her proclamation, Andrea looked to each person in the room, her stare halting with Maria the longest.
Oh Lordy? Sheri’s hand rose to her mouth where her index finger’s cuticle still hadn’t healed from her last chow-down. Mortified, all eyes on her, she stuck her hand behind her back. “Can we leave things as they are for now? I’d just like to help you.” Sheri wondered if her voice sounded as shaky to their ears as it did inside. Butterflies, peaceful until now, began fluttering around in her tummy.
“As you wish, my dear. My main concern is to be allowed time with the children. They grow up and leave home so quickly, that every moment is precious.” Tears appeared and were rapidly blinked away.
Instinctively, Sheri reached over and patted the woman’s shoulder until she had her attention. “I understand, Andrea. I would love your help with the rug-bunnies. Without my friend Charly, I don’t think I could have coped in Washington. It’ll be wonderful to share their care with you here, you and Maria.”
Maria’s moving towards Andrea at the sight of her tears had motivated Sheri to include her in the babies’ care. Sheri was rewarded with a look of approval from Miguel who’d stood in the background during the interlude.
Satisfaction produced an agreeable mask for Maria until she glanced at Rafael, and then her face stiffened once again. She turned an intense gaze on Sheri, her expression full of curiosity.
Uneasiness ate away the happiness that had built up over the short visit so far. Sheri shivered and turned away.
Chapter Nineteen
After the babies were settled into the newly refurbished nursery, Sheri joined Miguel in their private sitting room. “Miguel, I feel weird about your mother giving up her suite for us. Is that a tradition in Chile?”
“Not always. It’s different for a woman who’s unlucky and marries into a family where a tyrant rules. Mamacita is an angel. We are fortunate.”
“Mamacita? I’ve heard you refer to her that way many times. It must have a special meaning.”
“It means little mother. Words ending in ita or ito signify the gender of the person and the size, or as in my case, it’s used as a term of affection.”
“The custom is sort of special, isn’t it?”
“Si. One day Rafael will refer to you in such a way. You will like that, no?”
“Si.” She laughed, and noticed his eyes narrow as he moved to perch on the arm of the walnut-brown leather sofa where she lounged.
“Sheri, I want to start off our life here in Chile the way we mean to go on. Tonight, may we be together as husband and wife?” His hand reached out, and his fingers slid through the soft tangle of curls swirling over her shoulders.
She stood up and turned her back to him, but he soon followed. He loomed over and his arms gently scooped her to him, his breath on her neck creating an army of goose bumps. Lips, soft and warm, moist and hot kissed their way from her ear, down her throat to her neck. Meanwhile, his nimble fingers worked at the collar of her blouse to give him access to more of her delighted skin.
Leaning back for him to take her weight became a necessity as her knees lost their power to hold her upright. With a snarl, he whipped her around and the onslaught of his mouth devouring hers became more important than breathing.
The handsome devil kissed the way every woman dreams of being kissed. He sucked and licked and entwined her tongue with his, inviting her to perform with him. How could she resist? Never in her life had she experienced heat building from normal to boil-over in seconds. Every nerve in her body, starting from her head to her to stomach, mostly between her legs, screamed ‘hallelujah’!
His arm encircling her waist snuggled her close, and his hand on her bottom angled her directly to where his hardened body moved to explore her contours. At that moment, she could have climbed him like a monkey scaling a tree. Flushed and palpitating, every female part of her anatomy begged for more. It must have been the whimpering moans that stopped his play. She’d never know.
He framed her face, and she felt his hands tremble. When he went to speak, he started once, but then had to clear his throat so his initial whispering became clear. “I can’t stay with you right now, Sheri.”
The way he said her name was foreplay in itself.
“Juan is waiting to take me to the office. But, mi esposa, rest this afternoon, for tonight we will be very busy.” With a final kiss on her forehead, he left the room, a distinct shuffle noticeable.
She hugged herself and grinned. A firm believer in equality of the sexes, Sheri decided, since she’d be suffering from unrelieved horniness, so should he.
Then her mood darkened. Once again, she’d missed the opportunity to come clean. The man hadn’t even given her a chance to talk, not that she could have said anything with her eyelashes glued to her cheek and her mouth devoid of any liquid whatsoever.
Should she be upset that he’d just taken it for granted that she would fall in with his plans for later? How could she? With that darn secret eating away at her principles, how could she even think to start fresh and make love to her handsome husband?
How could she not? If she refused him, he’d know there had to be a problem then he’d question her and she’d tell. She knew she would.
It all came down to trust. Could she trust him not to take her babies away? She winced when the next thought hit her. Trust worked both ways. Right now, he sure as hell couldn’t trust her.
Chapter Twenty
Miguel veered off to the kitchen to meet with Juan. He took a few deep breaths to calm his blood from pumping into the swollen area in his overheated body that he now had undeniable proof worked perfectly. Glad no one else could observe his satisfied smirk, he got rid of it.
The room where he spent so much of his childhood hadn’t changed much. Every time he tried to talk Maria into letting him update her space, she Boo-hooed and made such a stink that he gave up. Not that he argued very hard. He loved the bright multi-colored small-tiled counters and larger red-tiled floors.
The bay windows housed a collection of cacti that she’d cultivated for years, and the plant stand Miguel and Juan had built for her as a Christmas present when he was twelve, still held the place of honor in front. As a home to exotic violets and orchids from all over the world, the affect from the various smells and gorgeous blooms evoked such pleasure, that to this day many family meals and coffee breaks were shared at the small table nearby. Maria’s one weakness, her love for these flowering plants, had everyone in the family scouring catalogues to order her different species to please the severe woman they all adored.
Miguel came towards the cooking area and Maria stood at the sink, her hands busy peeling a large potato. The black dress she wore came as close to a uniform as his mother would permit. Stubborn, Maria insisted on looking the part for her position. Shoulders rigid and back straight, Maria didn’t turn as Miguel walked towards her, but she did stiffen.
All his life, this woman had been both a beloved auntie and a strict nanny. He had no doubt she loved him fiercely and would protect him with her life.
She’d warned him of Margarita, had known her for the heartless bitch she’d turned out to be, and he’d ignored her pleas to step carefully, to take his time. In those days, full of himself, he’d thought he was infallible. He knew better now. An unprecedented lesson, but one he’d aced.
Everyone knew that males in Chile were revered and loved above all else. The women in the families, nannies included, treated the boys much differently than the girls. Cosseted and spoiled, adored and made to feel that the world revolved around their likes and dislikes, they reached manhood with a cultivated degree of self-assurance that bordered on entitlement. They knew the world loved them. It’s what they grew up being told.
To learn different from one’s own fiancé penetrated into the very male essence, then shattered and twisted a gallant spirit into impenetrable
hardness. He knew he’d changed, and this woman who’d always treated him like a royal prince would know it also.
She turned, wiped her hands and hugged him to her. “Miguel, I’m so glad you are safely home. Tu mamá, she missed you. She worked hard to be brave and accept Felipe and Mary-Anne’s death, but it took such a toll on her poor sick body.” She smoothed the collar of his open-necked blue work shirt while continuing her gentle harangue. “The tears wouldn’t stop. Like a river, they flowed until I believe she ran dry. We had to bully her to eat and to sleep, instead of all day long crying and praying. She needed to build her strength. Once she knew her babies were coming, she began to eat and care for herself. They are her reason to return to her old spirit.” Her hand searched her sleeve for the hankie he knew she kept hidden and once she found it, she used it furtively. “But you are home now and everything will be better.”
“I’m here to stay, Maria. No more assignments for me.”
“Gracias Dios! Was it horrible dealing with Felipe’s estate?”
“Not really. Most everything had been finalized between the insurance company and his clinic. As it should be, all went to his babies. Since so much time had passed, the bulk of the paperwork had been completed. Sheri had done most of the research for the necessary information they requested.” His searching look told him little of what she thought, and he had to know. “Tell me. I know you’re dying to. Will my new wife be good enough for the Rivera family?”
His wording broke through her normally austere look and made her smile slightly.
She stared him down, something no other person could do since he’d reached manhood. “Isn’t it a bit late to seek my approval now? What’s done is done. Best we live with it.” As she moved to turn back to the sink, Miguel grasped her and made her face him again.