by Lynne Hinton
“Yes, and he has a Spanish last name,” Beatrice noted as she drank a sip of coffee and then placed her cup in front of her.
“How did they meet?” Jessie asked, leaning back in her chair.
“Don’t know,” Beatrice answered.
“How many times have they gone out?” Jessie asked.
“Two, I think,” Beatrice said.
Jessie nodded her head, taking in the information. “Well, good for her,” she responded.
“Well, let’s hope it’s good for her,” Beatrice said, sounding concerned.
“Beatrice, finding a boyfriend for Charlotte has been all you have talked about for months. I thought you would be happy for her.”
“I’m not saying I’m not happy.” She leaned up and rested her chin on her fists. “I’m just saying I think she should go a little more slowly.”
“What?” Jessie asked, sounding very surprised. “You think somebody should go slowly? When have you ever gone slowly about anything? After all, you’re the one who got us all to shave our heads for Margaret before we found out that she wasn’t going to have chemotherapy. You’re the one who started that cookbook and that Christmas Cake Recipe Contest before you ever thought about how much work those projects would be. You’re the one who got a funeral van to drive Margaret back to Texas last year. You are not somebody with qualifications to hand out advice about slowing down!”
Beatrice blew out a long breath. “I did not come over here for a lecture,” she said. “I just came to let you know what I had heard. I thought you would be as concerned as I am.”
Jessie smiled. “Oh Beatrice, Charlotte has a boyfriend. Be glad for her. She would never pick a bad guy. I’m sure we will like him as much as she does when we get the chance to meet him.” She took a sip of her coffee. “This has gotten cold. You want me to brew another pot?”
Beatrice was looking down. She shook her head.
“What?” Jessie asked. She could see her friend was upset about something.
“She’s never coming back, is she?” Beatrice looked up at Jessie.
Jessie reached over and took her by the hands. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” She smiled at Beatrice. “You wanted to find Charlotte a boyfriend back here so that she would move home.”
“Well, I don’t see what’s so wrong with that,” Beatrice responded. “Robin still doesn’t ever come home to visit. Teddy has gotten some teaching fellowship in Japan, and Jenny and the twins are so busy in their own lives,” she said, speaking about her children and grand-children. “Louise is all wrapped up in her gardening classes and now talking about Roxie all over again. You and James stay completely involved in the lives of your children and grandchildren. Dick works all the time. Margaret is—” She stopped and took a breath. She still missed her friend so much. “I just thought it would be nice to have Charlotte back,” she confessed. “Even if she doesn’t want to be our preacher again, she could come back and be our friend.”
Jessie nodded. “It would be nice.” She also thought about Margaret and how empty life seemed without her. She understood Beatrice’s reasons for wanting their young friend back in their shrinking circle. “But Charlotte has made her own life in New Mexico. And we get to see her once in a while. I miss her too. But she’s happy out there, and she’s doing very good work at that shelter.”
Beatrice pulled her hands away and reached over and got a napkin. She dabbed at her eyes. “Well, that’s true. She does seem happy helping out those women.” She paused. “But we got women who get beat up here too,” she noted.
“That’s true,” Jessie responded. “Sad, but true. However, I don’t think Charlotte moved to New Mexico just to find abused women.” She sat back in her chair.
“Why do you think she went out there?” Beatrice asked. She folded her arms across her waist. “Do you think she was unhappy here?”
Jessie shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I do know that there was a time when I wanted to move and live somewhere else.”
“But you didn’t, and now you’re glad you stayed, right?” Beatrice remembered hearing about Jessie’s wanderlust and how she had wanted to live in another place when she was younger.
“I am glad I’m here now, but I still think I would have enjoyed living in another place for a while. But once the children were born and then when James left, I just couldn’t imagine going anywhere else.” Jessie glanced out the window, remembering how it was for her when her husband walked out on her. He was gone for a lot of years before he came back.
“How long have you guys been married?” Beatrice asked.
Jessie thought about the question and counted up the years. “Well, if you add all of the years together, since we never really got divorced, it would be fifty years. But if you take away the years that he was gone it would be less.”
“Which one do you count?” Beatrice asked.
“I think the first one, the long one, because even though we weren’t together for all those years, I still felt married to him, still connected to him. He has always been my husband even when he wasn’t here.”
Beatrice perked up. “You should have a vow renewal service,” she announced.
“A what?” Jessie asked.
“A second wedding,” Bea answered. “A ceremony where you and James renew your vows. I mean, he came back and you took him in but you didn’t have an event of any kind to celebrate.” She clapped her hands together. “We can do it at the church. I’m sure Reverend Joles will be happy to do it. No!” She stopped and looked directly at Jessie. “We can ask Charlotte to come back and officiate! That way we can look into her eyes when she talks about her officer and we’ll know for sure if he’s right for her.” She stopped and gasped. “We could even make her bring him with her! We get to plan a party and find out the truth about Charlotte.”
“Wait, wait, Bea.” Jessie put up her hand. “Let’s just take a minute to think about this. A second wedding? Charlotte coming back to officiate?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure this is something James and I would want.”
“What wouldn’t I want?” James had come into the house and was standing at the back door.
Both women turned to look in his direction.
“Hey babe,” Jessie called out.
“Hey babe,” Beatrice repeated.
“Hello, my lovely women,” James responded. “And what are the two of you cooking up?” He reached down and gave Jessie a kiss on the forehead, then turned around and walked over to the cabinets to get a coffee cup. He headed back over to the table and squeezed Beatrice on the shoulders.
“We are going to plan a second wedding for you and Jessie and we’re going to invite Charlotte to come back and officiate!” Beatrice was all aglow with her new idea. “That will give us the chance to meet Charlotte’s new beau and spend time with her, maybe make her stay here, and celebrate something wonderful: your love!”
James turned to his wife and winked. Then he poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. He took a sip while both women waited for his response. Beatrice was especially eager to hear his reaction.
“I think it’s a great idea,” he remarked with a grin.
“Really?” Jessie asked, surprised.
“Really,” he replied. “After fifty years I would like nothing more than to tell the world that I am marrying you all over again.”
Jessie blushed. A big smile swept across her face.
Beatrice rubbed her hands together. “Okay, we’ll need to get invitations and pick a date. We need to reserve the church and the fellowship hall.”
“I think I’d rather do it here,” Jessie said. She was starting to enjoy the idea.
Beatrice glanced around. “Inside or out?” she asked.
James and Jessie looked at each other and at the same time answered, “Out.”
Beatrice grinned. “An outdoor wedding.” She thought about the logistics of planning the event. “Summer then?” she asked.
“Lat
e spring,” Jessie replied.
“May,” James added. “Our anniversary is in May.” He took another sip of coffee and winked again at his wife.
“May it is,” Beatrice exclaimed. “Oh my, there’s so much to do and not a lot of time to do it in. We’ll need to think about flowers and music and a photographer and a honeymoon.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “And, oh my, I have another fabulous idea!”
“What?” Jessie asked.
“How about putting together a wedding cookbook?” she asked, her face flushed with excitement.
And both Jessie and James turned to their friend in exasperation and yelled at the same time, “No cookbook!”
Chili Dip
1 15-ounce can chili without beans
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
hot sauce to taste
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
Combine all ingredients. Heat until cheese melts. Serve hot with tortilla chips. Makes 2 cups.
—Maria Roybal
Chapter Three
Charlotte was staring out the window and still thinking about Beatrice and their conversation, how she had spilled the beans and told her about Donovan, whom she had only gone out with a couple of times. She was having her regrets when Maria walked into the office. When Charlotte turned around, the shelter volunteer was standing right in front of the desk, wearing a strange look on her face.
“Hello Maria, how was it?” Charlotte asked. She could tell that Maria definitely had something to tell her.
Maria remained standing very close to Charlotte. She placed the stamps on the corner of the desk and then looked back up. “I went to the post office,” she responded.
Charlotte smiled. She loved how dramatic the volunteer could be at times. “Yes, I remember where you were going. And you got stamps too, which is fabulous, Maria. Is that the reason for that goofy look on your face? Are they special stamps?” She glanced over to the small roll that had been placed by the phone. They seemed to be the same U.S. flag variety that she was used to having.
“Did we get a discount?” Charlotte knew how Maria loved to use coupons and ask vendors for discounts.
“I do not wear this look about my face because of stamps.” Maria waited, allowing for the dramatic pause.
“Okay.” Charlotte played along.
She and Maria had been friends for almost three years. Maria was one of the first people she had met when she moved to Gallup, and Maria’s family had sort of adopted Charlotte since her arrival. Charlotte ate at least one meal a week with the Roybal family. She babysat Maria’s grandchildren from time to time and even attended Mass with them once or twice a month. Maria and her husband, Gilbert, were helping Charlotte with her language skills in Spanish.
“Well, are you going to tell me or do you want me to keep guessing?” Charlotte asked. “I’ve got work to do, Maria,” she added.
“I ran into Isabella Gomez while I was standing in line to buy the stamps.”
Charlotte thought that the name sounded familiar but she didn’t think she knew who Maria was talking about. She shrugged.
Maria sighed as if she thought Charlotte ought to know who Isabella was. “Isabella Gomez is married to Daniel Gomez, and his sister married Jimmie Lujan from Farmington,” Maria explained. “They sit in the fourth row at Mass every Sunday.”
“Isabella and Daniel, or Jimmie Lujan?”
Maria let out another sigh. “Isabella and Daniel.” She thought for a moment. “She stacks her hair really high and adds a bun extension to the top of her head.”
“A bun or a French twist?” Charlotte asked, thinking about the women’s hairstyles she had seen in the Catholic church.
“Bun,” Maria answered, growing impatient.
“Okay,” Charlotte said, nodding her head. “And this is important because?”
“This is important because Daniel’s sister’s husband, Jimmie Lujan, has a cousin who is married to Carla Fairhope.”
There was another pause. Charlotte shook her head, hoping Maria would soon get to her point.
“Yes, and?” Charlotte asked.
“And Carla Fairhope is really Carla Sanchez Fairhope.” Charlotte still was not following Maria’s line of conversation. She waited.
“Carla Sanchez Fairhope,” Maria repeated, very carefully sounding out the name.
“Carla Sanchez Fairhope,” Charlotte said. And then the name finally rang a bell. “Are you trying to tell me that she is somehow related to Donovan?”
Charlotte had told her friend about meeting the Gallup policeman and about their first date, and Maria had promised, without any urging or request from Charlotte, to find out everything she could about the New Mexico native.
“Oh, she’s more than just related.” She paused, wanting even more of a dramatic effect to what she was about to say.
Charlotte leaned in, waiting. “What, Maria?” she finally asked.
Maria glanced around to see if anyone was outside in the hall.
Charlotte followed her eyes. She whispered, “It’s just us. The women have all gone to job training at the community college, and the kids are in school.”
Maria nodded again, looking as if she wanted to be very careful with her news.
Charlotte shrugged, still waiting.
“She was his first wife.” Maria punctuated the end of the sentence with a loud bang on the desk, pounding her fist. And then she stood up straight and waited for Charlotte’s response.
Charlotte was surprised to hear this news, but it didn’t shock her as much as it apparently shocked Maria. She and Donovan had not spoken to each other about past relationships, so it wasn’t as if he had lied to her or kept anything from her. She knew that if they continued to see each other, this subject would certainly come up, but at this point, she hadn’t asked him a lot of personal questions.
“So, he’s divorced?” Charlotte asked, not showing nearly the amount of emotion that Maria was expecting.
“You are not upset?”
“He’s in his forties, Maria. It shouldn’t surprise you that a man his age has been married before.” She reached over to a folder and opened it. There were some forms she needed to fill out and get in the afternoon mail; that was part of the reason she had sent Maria to get stamps. As always in nonprofit work, a deadline was looming.
“You didn’t find out from him if he had ever been married?” Maria asked. She pulled up a chair and sat across from Charlotte, surprised to see that her friend wasn’t stunned about this important bit of news.
“No, Maria, I didn’t ask him if he had ever been married. We’ve only been out twice.” Charlotte looked back down at the form. It was from the state government, requesting the number of children served by St. Mary’s House in the last quarter and their ages, as well as other information about them. The women’s shelter received a certain amount of money based on the clientele they served. These forms were always important to complete because the funds were a necessary part of their income.
Maria studied the young woman. She made a kind of humming noise.
Charlotte glanced up. “What?”
“There are things you should always ask right off the bat when you go out with a man.”
“Things?” Charlotte repeated.
“Things,” Maria answered, nodding.
“Besides having been married before, what other things?” Charlotte asked. This interested her.
“Any known children, medical and family history, religious preferences, mental illnesses …” She stopped to consider other issues. “And any bad debts,” she added.
“Wow,” Charlotte responded. “That’s a lot of information. Maybe I need to ask the state to make forms for my dates.” She held up the paper she was working on and shook her head; the entire dialogue she was having was starting to sound and feel very familiar. “You are as bad as Beatrice Witherspoon,” she commented, remembering the conversation she had just had with her former church member. “I’m not asking all of those qu
estions on the first date. And besides, it doesn’t matter to me if he’s been married before,” she added.
Maria blew out a breath. “Your friend is right to worry about you. Los hombres que te ocultan una cosa, te ocultaran muchas más.”
“Maria, you know how bad my Spanish is. I heard ‘men’ and ‘keep things.’ What are you saying?”
“All I’m saying is that you need to beware of Mr. Donovan Sanchez.”
Charlotte laughed. “Because he didn’t tell me he has been married?”
“Is he hiding anything else?” Maria asked, looking very suspicious.
“You mean like mental illness and bad debt?”
“You go ahead and make fun. These are things every woman should know about a man she sees socially.”
“Are you watching a lot of television these days?” Charlotte asked, thinking of Beatrice and all her crime movie talk.
“I watch La Fea Más Bella but I don’t see what that has to do with this conversation.”
“Well, maybe you watch too much La Fea Más Bella”
“I still say if you have been married before, that information should come up during a date.”
“Maria, the first time we went out was just for coffee after I got a flat tire and he helped me change it. We were together for just one hour. We talked about our jobs, cars, the weather, football, and whether we prefer green or red chile. Then the next time, our first real date, we went to see a movie together, so we didn’t chat at all while we were in the theater, and after that we had ice cream and talked about what makes us laugh. We didn’t get into past relationships!”
“And?” Maria asked.
“And what?” Charlotte replied.
“And which does he prefer?” Maria still had her arms folded across her chest. She was not letting go of her suspicions.
Charlotte shook her head, not understanding the question.
“Green or red?” Maria asked, smiling.
Charlotte laughed. “Whichever is hottest,” she replied.
Maria nodded in approval. “Okay, so he got that one right,” she said. “Any real New Mexican knows that even though usually the red chile is hotter, you always ask the restaurant server because it isn’t a hard and fast rule. The temperature of the peppers has to do with the batch from which they come, not so much with the color.”