“Honestly, I wonder if bringing little ones into the world would be prudent,” Marco admitted.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The world is changing. Communism spreads, war looms. What kind of world would our children grow up in?” he said. I didn’t miss the fact he referred to the children as ours. I had asked about children in general. I would have imagined such talk would have frightened me but I felt none of that.
“Our children?” I prodded.
“Of course,” he replied as if it was the most natural thing to say in the world. “I’ve told you, Nancy, when I see what I want...,” Marco told me leaving his statement unfinished. I smiled at him.
“What if that’s not what I want?” I replied to see what Marco might say to that.
“Then I will convince you. I can be very persuasive,” he told me and then stroked my cheek and stared into my eyes with that look. I could have predicted his response. The look of self-assuredness, the look that made me believe he could acquire anything he wanted and that I would be willing do anything he asked.
“I’m sure of it,” I said and reached down and found Marco erect again. Marco climbed atop me and kissed me, his manhood poised between my creamy thighs.
“Make no mistake, mi amor, you are the one that possesses the greatest power of persuasion. I am but your humble servant, powerless before your beauty,” he said only half teasing.
“Is that so?” I asked, Marco’s face mere inches from mine, our eyes locked.
“Yes, you compel me to pursue you. I have no choice in the matter,” he told me. I took his head in my hands and kissed him. “Show me...again,” I demanded. Marco did, slipping into me. I gasped and let go of his head and took the bed sheet in my hands and held on in anticipation of what would come. And so the day went. We rose finally in the mid afternoon. While Marco had satisfied me countless times, he delayed his satisfaction for my benefit just as he had the night before. When I was finally able to afford Marco the pleasure he deserved, I took my time, teasing and tormenting him with my hands to completion. Oh, what a glorious mess we made.
We spent the remainder of the day eating, famished after our active morning, dancing and talking. Christmas was very different from this back at home but I wouldn’t have traded a thousand traditional celebrations for the day I spent with Marco. It was like a dream, a day of hedonistic pleasures, of intimacy and bliss. It was a day of peace and indulgence. In short, it was perfect and I wouldn’t have wished to spend it with anyone but Marco.
As afternoon passed into evening and evening into night, Marco and I found ourselves relaxing in his living room, his radio playing both Spanish and Traditional English Christmas carols. Marco lounged in his chair, puffing a cigar and sipping rum. I lounged on his sofa, sometimes singing along to the songs I knew. I thought of home and my parents and while I felt pangs of homesickness, I was happy.
“Do you miss your family?” Marco asked me as if reading my mind.
“Yes. I try not to think of them, or at least I used to. Now I feel free to do so,” I told Marco.
“Why is that?” he asked.
“I have you. I’m happy. I’m no longer wishing I was back home and far away from here,” I told him. He nodded and then I asked, “Do you miss your family, your parents I mean?”
“I do. Family has always been important to Cubans but mine is fractured. I miss the days of my youth when we lived together still,” he told me.
“Why did your parents move to America?” I wondered. Marco took a sip of rum and then shifted in his chair leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
“They left at my urging. I feared for their safety here. After my sister was murdered, I couldn’t lose my parents too. So I insisted they leave for America. They are not the only ones to leave. There they have many friends that have also left Cuba,” he explained.
“Why did you stay?” I asked.
“The people. The men and women that work for my family. They rely on the factory and fields for their livelihood. But it is more than that. My parents are aging and they have earned peace. I, on the other hand, can resist the communists and offer help to the people of Cuba. So I stay,” he told me. I understood but I wasn’t sure I agreed.
“But you can leave and find peace and safety too. You don’t owe anyone anything,” I offered.
“Don’t I? My family has become wealthy but not without the hard work of others. We pay them a fair wage, assist those that need it and treat our workers with respect and dignity. In turn, they work hard, show us not only affection and friendship but loyalty. I owe them loyalty in return,” Marco explained. I guess I understood. He didn’t want to abandon those that had never abandoned him. Marco felt a responsibility to the people he employed and their families.
But I sensed it was more than that. I had a feeling Marco’s allegiance went beyond his own workers to all the people of Cuba and to Cuba itself. I could understand that. I, most Americans in fact, felt that way towards America. But America wasn’t in the throes of revolution. America wasn’t corrupted by a dictator and threatened by another. America was at peace, at least internally.
“I wish I could make it go away,” I told Marco. He looked at me with a perplexed expression.
“But you do make it go away, Nancy. You, like no other, force all of it from my mind. You have become my refuge. I need you. I am a better man, a stronger person, with you in my life,” Marco said. His words astonished me. I wondered what he saw in me, why a man like Marco wanted a woman like me. Now I saw a side of him I had yet to discover. Vulnerability. But that didn’t diminish his confident and strong demeanor. Instead, I found just the opposite was true.
But it was his passion that I found so appealing. We’d known each other for such a short time but Marco had already professed his love for me. He knew what he wanted and he wasn’t afraid of that. Of course, it was the unsettled times that pushed him to declare his feelings so quickly, a need to express what he felt for fear of never having the chance again. But he was a man of deep emotion under his calm and confident exterior. I liked that Marco had no problem expressing himself.
“We need each other,” I assured him. Marco grinned and I pat the sofa with my hand inviting Marco to sit with me. He rose and set his cigar and glass of rum aside. I slid sideways and invited Marco to lay down, with his head in my lap. He seemed eager to do as I bid. “I’m glad you told me that,” I assured him as I stroked his hair and he looked at the ceiling.
“I wanted you to know,” he replied. I felt I needed to say something in return.
“I didn’t understand why you chose me, why amongst all the women you could have pursued you pursued me instead. I think I understand now. I must admit I was attracted to you physically at first but since I’ve come to appreciate more than that about you,” I told him. Marco looked at me. “It’s your courage and compassion, your honor and strength, that I am drawn to,” I finished.
“Make no mistake, I am physically attracted to you as well. But I saw something in you, Nancy, that I knew I needed. You are correct. I love you for who you are, for the woman beyond the beauty. The traits within me that you are drawn to are enhanced by your love. I know you don’t know if you love me, but I know. I feel it. You will come to see it too,” Marco told me.
“I...I think I already do,” I said and even I wasn’t sure what I might have said if I hadn’t paused. Marco grinned as he relaxed and closed his eyes.
“I am happy you need me too,” he told me but he could have easily said love instead of need. I felt myself on the verge of saying so. Something held me back, however. Fear, uncertainty or maybe I was just being foolish. I wanted to love Marco and maybe I already did. I felt a rush of excitement and anxiety at the thought. Suddenly the outside world rushed back in. I couldn’t lose Marco and the circumstances that swirled about us made me frightened that I might.
I played in Marco’s hair letting that mindless act mask the trepidation I felt. I wished it could all go aw
ay and I could be left in peace with Marco. That’s all I wanted and I knew that’s all he sought. Marco had no desire to fight a war or oppose Castro. He simply wanted to be left alone and to pursue his life. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon without some sort of miracle.
“Marco?” I asked breaking the silence.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Take me to bed,” I told him. He opened his eyes regarding me with an eyebrow raised.
“Again?” he asked and I giggled but then my demeanor turned more serious.
“Take me to bed, undress me and then hold me. Let me finish this perfect day in your arms as I drift to sleep,” I replied. Marco sat up and then stood, offering me his hand. I took it and he helped me from the sofa. He left me standing there as he turned off the radio and then the lights. He returned in the near darkness and led me to the bedroom.
Once there he did as I asked, standing behind me and undressing me as he pulled back my hair and kissed my neck softly. His hands we strong but his touch was soft and loving. I delighted as he slowly relieved me of my dress and then my underthings, finally his hands roamed my naked figure as he pressed his clothed body against me.
“That’s divine,” I told him.
“Sometimes a woman needs no more than a loving embrace, no?” he replied.
“Mm hmm,” I answered as my body and mind relaxed. Marco turned me gently and kissed me. I suddenly felt weak but his strong arms embraced me and held me aloft, or so it felt. Marco broke the kiss and then he laid me on the bed. He remained standing as he undressed and once he was nude, he joined me. Marco wrapped me in his arms and held me close as we lay down in the darkness.
“I do love you, Nancy. You give me strength I would not otherwise possess,” Marco told me. I let those words wash over me and sighed.
“And you make me feel beautiful. I am a better woman for your love,” I replied. Marco pulled me closer and didn’t speak again. Suddenly, weariness crept over me, a comforting blanket that I welcomed. Still, I didn’t sleep right away. I let myself enjoy being held by Marco as I drifted in that place between the real world and dreams. Though I had yet to find the courage to say it aloud, I was sure I loved this man. Marco had become more important to me than I thought possible but I knew saying so would change things forever. I needed time to accept that but time wasn’t a luxury Marco and I had.
~~~
~9~
Marco and I finally ventured out of his home the day after Christmas. Marco took me to see his tobacco fields, the ones near Havana. He explained there were others but they were closer to Santa Clara and the fighting. He would not take me there and I didn’t want to go. I had no desire to venture close to the war. Havana remained safe for the moment but how long that might last, no one was sure. The Rebels seemed to be in a stalemate with Batista’s armies but things were about to change.
In the days between Christmas and the New Year, Marco showed me his home city, Havana, and we grew closer. I wished it could have gone on forever, but even without the revolution and the danger it promised, this was not real. Marco had his factory to manage and after New Year’s Day, he would have to return to his work. I, on the other hand, had to make a decision.
I had wanted to leave Cuba once I had paid off Tony, however, now I was free of that burden. Under the circumstances, I would have left Cuba for the safety of America, maybe even return home to Iowa for a simpler life. I wasn’t sure I desired the adventure and excitement that I once craved anymore. It was appealing to a small town girl but the reality hadn’t lived up to the promise. I wanted a quieter life now, maybe back home in Riverside.
But now Marco and the feelings I had for him were part of the equation. I couldn’t help but think of settling here in Cuba with him, maybe marrying him and having children. It was easy to do. I was falling for him, more so every day. We had grown very close, sharing more than just physical love. Our hopes and dreams, our plans for the future were melding. But it wasn’t that simple.
Cuba wasn’t safe despite the illusion of peace in Havana. Cuba was at war, the dictator defending himself against the rebels, neither faction good for Cuba in the long run. How long might the revolution rage? What would become of Cuba afterwards? Would Batista enact reforms in the wake of the rebellion or would he crack down on the people of the island nation? And what of Castro and his rebels? Would they, as Marco predicted, bring only misery to Cuba?
Without Marco in my life, I would have worked to save enough money to get to America, to flee the uncertainty. But Marco was in my life and that changed everything. We hadn’t discussed it, nobody in Havana wanted to speak of the possibilities, but I knew Marco wouldn’t leave Cuba no matter what came to pass. I could hope events turned our way, that the rebels were defeated and Batista’s Cuba was unchanged or maybe even changed for the better afterwards, but that was increasingly unlikely.
What if Cuba fell to Castro? What would Marco do? I was sure from everything he said that Marco would resist the communists and he would be in danger because of it. He already was mixed up with those that opposed Castro and his revolution. Would he wage a war of his own? Would he be arrested? I didn’t know but with every passing day I began to feel that no matter what, I would stay by his side. I couldn’t leave Marco.
Then on December 30th, word came that the garrison at Yaguajay had surrendered to the rebel forces. More disturbing were the reports that the revolutionaries had gained many men as they marched across the countryside. Marco hung up the phone after hearing the news and slumped into his chair. I pressed him to tell me what had so obviously upset him and he explained what he had heard with obvious sadness and disappointment in his voice.
“Yaguajay has a fallen and the revolutionaries gain strength,” he told me.
“So what does that mean?” I asked worriedly.
“I do not know for sure. It is not good,” Marco told me and then looked at me and said, “I must meet with my associates. Tonight!”
“I want to go with you,” I declared. Marco shook his head.
“No, I do not want you involved in this business,” he said.
“But I am involved,” I argued.
“You do not understand, Nancy. I am pledged to fight Castro, to fight for Cuba. A free Cuba. I will become a marked man if Castro succeeds. I cannot allow you to become involved. I cannot allow you to be harmed,” he said and his tone left no doubt that the situation was serious. Life and death serious.
“I know it wasn’t your intent, Marco, but I’m part of this now because I’m...,” I began to say, my emotions outpacing reason. I hesitated though. I knew what I wanted to say but fear and doubt stopped me.
“What Nancy?” Marco asked, leaning forward in his chair. I felt a rush of confusion. What I wanted to say flew in the face of reason. It wasn’t prudent but it was how I felt. I looked at Marco. I knew this was frightening to him. His world was turning upside down but he showed nothing but courage in the face of the danger. I had to find that in myself and my love for Marco was the catalyst I needed.
“I love you, Marco. I won’t let you face this alone. I know you didn’t mean to bring me into this but if it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead one way or another. Either Tony would have killed me or I’d be trapped as the revolution succeeded. But you saved me. Now I have the choice to face this on my terms and I choose to face it by your side. Please, don’t push me aside,” I declared almost pleading for Marco to let me remain by his side. Marco glared at me from his chair and then he stood. His hands seized my arms and he pulled me to him and kissed me.
“I hate that I’ve brought you into this. It was not my intent. I wish that I could have resisted my desires but perhaps you are correct. Maybe I did save you. You are a brave woman, Nancy. I love you and I would be proud to have you at my side and comforted that I do not have to face this alone,” Marco said. I expected Marco to tell me I had to leave him for my safety. Maybe he should have but I was relieved he hadn’t.
“Thank you.
Whatever happens we will face it together. As you said to me, I have no regrets,” I told him and then hugged Marco pressing my head to his chest. He held me for long moments and then lifted my face with a finger under my chin.
“We must go. Put on a fine dress. We must blend in. We will be meeting my associates at a casino and we must look as if we are there to celebrate the season,” Marco told me.
“All right,” I replied and did as he directed. Marco wore a black suit and a red tie; it was still the holiday season and festive clothing was common. I wore a red dress and matching pumps. I brushed my hair and touched up my makeup and then Marco donned a black fedora and we left for the meeting. We drove to a small casino on the edge of the tourist district, a place that catered to locals as much as tourists. Inside, Marco led me to a back room where a man challenged us.
Marco explained I was with him and who I was in Spanish. The man seemed to trust Marco but was skeptical of me. Marco assured him I was an American and that I supported their cause. He nodded and let us pass. Behind the door there was a room with a large table at its center. Several men and one woman waited. Behind us another man entered and then the man that had challenged us joined us as well. Once the last two men were seated, Marco offered me a seat but he remained standing.
I didn’t understand everything that was said but Marco seemed to be the leader of this small group. He explained the situation and then the group of a dozen men and the single woman besides me discussed their options. From what I could understand with my less than complete understanding of Spanish, part of the group was ready to take up arms and go to war alongside Batista against the rebels. It seemed some of them were already battling Castro and his forces. The other half of the group wanted to take a wait and see stance.
Debate ensued, at times becoming rather heated. One man accused the more passive members of the group of being cowards but after a few moments of shouting he apologized for his emotional outburst. Marco stood by and let the debate take place, listening to the arguments and only occasionally joining in. Only after the opposing opinions had been discussed and worked over did Marco intervene. I can’t be sure of every word but I understood most of what he said and let context suggest the rest.
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