Читать книгу The Miracle of Saint Lazarus - Uva de Aragón - Страница 7
ОглавлениеDay 1—Monday, November 2, 2015
Even though she hadn’t planned to go out for lunch, she immediately agreed to do so given the urgent tone in the voice that was speaking to her:
“We have to see you right away!”
A rolling stone gathers no moss, she told herself as she put her cell phone into her purse, got her keys out, and headed out into the midday sun.
What could possibly be up with these crazy old women who need to see me so urgently and with all this mystery? The crazy old women in fact were Lourdes and Yolanda, her mother’s schoolmates from a childhood long ago in Havana.
They were waiting for her at the most obscure table in the restaurant. Rather than one of the places where they typically met, they chose a small, half-empty restaurant in a seedy strip mall in the Sweetwater area. The surprise must have registered on her face because Yolanda quickly blurted out:
“The fact is that Lourdes has to ask you something very privately.”
As the waiter got closer, they lowered their voices. They asked for three glasses of Chardonnay. It was as if they were speaking Chinese. They wound up accepting three Presidente beers.
In response to her inquisitive look, Lourdes began to speak slowly, as if pronouncing each syllable required an immense effort.
“I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up… I don’t think it’s anything… I don’t know… Probably… It’s just that it seems like…and maybe you…”
Maria was about to lose her patience and to tell her to get to the point, but she noticed a hint of pain in the woman’s eyes that made her hesitate and try to comprehend what she was saying beyond the actual words, the meaning behind her gestures and the modulation of her voice that was becoming fainter.
“And?” she succinctly asked while raising an eyebrow.
“Lourdes thinks that Ramon is cheating on her,” Yolanda blurted out.
Maria had to make an effort to stifle her laughter. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that the seventy-year-old man was up for an affair, even though it wasn’t out of the question at his age with Viagra. These days, even Vargas Llosa, who was pushing eighty, was making a fool of himself as a dirty old man in all those photos in Hola magazine. When the waiter came back with their food, the women hushed their conversation for a moment. Lourdes’s breaded cutlet draped over the plate, along with black beans and plantains. Yolanda had asked for vaca frita, that typical Cuban flank steak, with the same side dishes except that the plantains were sweet. As for Maria, she had limited herself to a tuna salad.
When they were alone again, she looked at Lourdes.
“Hang on, what makes you think that?” she asked with all seriousness, as if she were investigating one of the cases back at headquarters.
“Look, when he retired a year ago, he was happy enough watching films on Netflix, listening to the news, reading… He even bought a Kindle. You had to light a fire under him just to get him out of his recliner. A few months ago, he started eating lunch every Thursday with some friends…”
“That’s true, because Alicia’s husband, Oscar, goes too and they get together for lunch in a backroom at Casa Juancho…”
“Yeah, but now they’re also meeting at night one or two times a week, and he never tells me anything… It’s all a mystery… And he whispers on the phone.”
“Have you noticed any unfamiliar number or a text on his cell?” Maria asked, certain that her friend would have already checked it.
“Well, truthfully, no. The texts only come from the grandkids…occasionally from his sister, and no unknown telephone numbers.”
“And his emails?”
“No, but he could erase them.”
“A woman’s perfume, lipstick on his clothes, anything unusual about his underwear, socks inside out?”
“No.”
“Because you checked all these things, right?”
“Well, it’s just that I…”
“Yeah, that’s what any of us would do. Anything else?”
“I don’t know, he just doesn’t seem to be himself, like he’s not here, he’s got his mind on something else. I’m sure he’s hiding something from me.”
“Is it possible that some type of investment went wrong, and he doesn’t want to tell you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Any health problems?”
“I always go to the doctor with him…a bit of arthritis in his knee, medicine for his blood pressure…normal stuff for his age.”
Worrying about her husband’s possible infidelity had not made Lourdes lose her appetite. The waiter came and took away the empty plates. Maria had heroically managed to avoid Yolanda’s tempting offer to share her sweet plantains. Years ago, she had gone to Weight Watchers to lose some weight, and she remembered the instructor’s dramatic assertions about how Cuban food makes you gain weight. However, she couldn’t turn down the croquettes that came with her tuna salad.
They were already having their coffee when Maria asked:
“And so what do you want me to do?”
“I thought that maybe you could follow him.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I could pay you.”
“You’re stark raving mad! In the first place, he knows me… And besides…”
“He hasn’t seen you that much lately, and you’re an artist when it comes to disguises with all those wigs and other things you have…and you can take photos.”
She couldn’t help but grin. It was true. She had had to resort to altering her appearance many times when she worked undercover. There was even that time she had to pass for a prostitute!
“And you’ve already followed him once…”
“That was more than twenty years ago when you had a similar fit of jealousy and your poor husband was trying to overthrow Fidel…”
“Well, that was when the Soviet Union had just collapsed, and we all thought that Cuba was going to fall along with it. It just needed a little nudge. This time it’s different.”
“Look, Lourdes, back then I wasn’t on the police force and I was working as a private detective, but now as an officer of Miami-Dade County I can’t do those things. It’s against the law. I could lose my job.”
“No, mija, not that…”
“Lourdes, I’m absolutely convinced that these ideas of yours are baseless, but if you are still worried a month from now, I’ll put you in touch with a detective friend of mine…”
“Geez, I don’t know. It’s one thing for you to do it, but to employ a complete stranger. I’ll think about it. Thanks, Mariita. And please, don’t say a word about this to your father.”
She was happy to have gotten out of Lourdes’s absurd request, and it was true that the police regulations were very clear on the matter. Barring that, she wouldn’t have had any recourse but to accept her request. She really did love those two crazy, old women. When they diagnosed her mother with cancer six years ago, they had taken care of everything. They accompanied her to her chemotherapy sessions and brought food to her father. They had acted as nurses, housewives, cooks, psychiatrists, and, when her mother lost her battle and passed away, they adopted her as a daughter and Patrick as a grandson. They even went to his basketball games and yelled more loudly than anyone! When he graduated from high school a year ago and was admitted to the University of Florida in Gainesville, his adopted grandmothers took it upon themselves to buy him everything he needed, from a laptop to a first aid kit.
They said their goodbyes with a kiss, some comforting words, messages for the adopted grandson, and a promise to meet up again soon.
“You’re going to see that there’s nothing to worry about,” Maria told Lourdes to reassure her.
