Miranda Page 16

  One of the servants of the kitchen approached Isabel and spoke into her ear. Immediately afterward, she announced that the table was ready. Norman still held my hand. The group began walking with me now acting as Norman’s support. Isabel paused in between the foyer and the dining room. We approached her, and she smiled, but her face wasn’t friendly. I took it to mean: you shouldn’t have come.

  “Thank you, Miranda. I’ll take him from here.” She took Norman’s hand away from mine.

  In the dining room, at the insistence of the man of the house, I sat next to Norman. I looked up and took note of who my nearest neighbors at the table were: Eliezer and the female he was with. Isabel sat her next to him.

  The scene seemed like piece of Dali surrealism. For more than twenty years, the luncheon had been with only Norman and myself and no one else–at the same time and in the same place. It seemed unbelievable to me. That evening, the house seemed packed with too many people, and I struggled to understand the reason for the presence of each one of them.

  “Miranda, we haven’t had a chance to introduce you.” Isabel put on a courteous tone like a mask. “She is Vanessa, my friend, moreover, a very good friend of Eliezer.”

  I smiled, not to be cordial, but to override the remorseful anger that engulfed my being. At least I would no longer have to call the anonymous female, “the woman in question,” rather “Vanessa.” I tried to not to put much stock into the sarcasm that every one of Isabel’s words carried, but there were three words whose significance I couldn’t overlook: very good friend. Certainly, the definition of “very good friend” could mean different things. In this case, it seemed like Isabel had left out two words: with privileges.

  Vanessa wouldn’t stop talking to Eliezer. She followed every one of his moves with her perky, insistent eyes. When he would raise a glass to his lips, she would follow his hand–the same hand that had been deep within my most intimate parts a few hours ago–with her eyes. He, on the other hand, would project a calmer demeanor. I knew that he was not that calm. Something made him uncomfortable, perhaps it was one of the people present: Vanessa, his mother, his father… me? There were many possibilities. I, in my eternal complex, was hopeful that the uncomfortable one would interact with me. At least, that way he would think of me, even though he would be hearing the words of another.

  With a gulp of red wine, I exerted force against the lump that was forming in my throat where columns of unanswered questions were assembled for a parade. Why the hell did I feel angry the moment I spotted the redhead within Eliezer’s comfort zone? Why am I here? Why do I feel so inadequate… so bad? Why does this luncheon carry such a heavy atmosphere? Why do I feel that the relationships between the Clausell men and myself don’t feel the way they used to?

  Norman, on the other hand, whistled and expressed happiness and gratitude on his face. Nonetheless, I knew that happiness that he was showing wasn’t real. The familial reconciliation was no more than staged, a farce… a circus. Yes, it was difficult to decipher who was in on it and who wasn’t.

  Norman resumed holding my hand, which lay on the table after putting down my glass of wine.

  “Tell me, Miranda, did you go to the home yesterday?”

  The volume of his voice was sufficient for the people seated nearby to become interested in the conversation. My answer was simple. Hopefully, perhaps, that way, he would get the message and stop asking me questions.

  “Yes.”

  “How wonderful! And who did you seduce into going with you this year?”

  I could have sworn that he knew the answer to that question. He made it very easy for me, and it was the moment for which I was waiting since I arrived to launch my attack.

  “No one of importance. In fact, the third choice on my list.”

  The words could not have come out any better. With them, I felt that I opened the escape valve of a pressure wave. Norman belted out a belly laugh and my attention returned to Eliezer in front of me. I enjoyed how every one of the lines of his forehead deepened while we stared at each other. Within seconds, after I had already retreated, and just before taking a sip from his cup, he launched his attack.

  “You must have really bad luck, Wise.” He took a sip of wine, which surely helped make his mouth more acidic for the words that he planned to unleash against my response.

  “Perhaps,” I responded with a sarcastic half smile.

  “They say that people attract those whom they most desire.”

  Oh, I thought, we’d leave it there… that he would set aside his pride and accept my comment. This was not the place to instigate a melodrama–not with all these people around.

  “Certainly, Clausell. Perhaps that should be one of my New Year’s resolutions.”

  He raised his cup and, with that look that irritated me so, made a toast.

  “To your New Year’s resolution!”

  I had no choice but to raise my glass. I went back to being the center of attention.

  “Miranda, tell me more about this home. Is it where you grew up?”

  I didn’t know whether Isabel’s interest was genuine… or sinister.

  “Yes. I grew up there,” I answered candidly and innocently.

  “So it was where Norman rescued you.”

  Within that comment there wasn’t a bit of interest in knowing more about the home, rather it was in screwing me over and ridiculing me. I had to think twice before letting my words go. The first few options were neither decent nor appropriate for the setting. I was already accustomed to being the center of attention, but it also felt unpleasant enough.

  “He didn’t rescue me from the place, rather from a future with few opportunities in store. That home is my home. It’s where I grew up. It’s where I was loved, and we’ll always be appreciative of Norman’s help and for the other noble hearts that provided for us.”

  My heart beat a million times a second, and even though my words broke the attack that Isabel had been brewing against me, the pause lasted only a few brief seconds.

  “And tell me, dear… you never knew your parents? You know nothing of your past?”

  Anyone else might have believed the card she was playing, but not those who knew her. Her bad vibrations were capable of penetrating my skin and forcing me to remember the day when the curiosity to know about my parents was so strong, I couldn’t contain it…

  Soon I’d be fifteen years old. Norman had been asking me what I wanted for a gift for months. I didn’t know what to request, until the day when I said:

  “May I ask for anything?”

  “Except for a car, a house, or permission to marry.” He answered the question in a jocular tone but without diverting his attention from the computer.”

  “I want to know who my parents are.” His fingers stopped typing. His face remained fixed on the monitor. He fought the sudden disconcerting feeling that invaded him upon hearing my request with a sigh.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  ***

  Eliezer sneezed and I was back to reality. I looked at the others. All eyes were on me.

  “No… and no.” I said to Isabel.

  “I’m sorry, dear?” She didn’t understand my short answers.

  “The answers to your two questions are: No, I didn’t know my parents, and no, it’s not necessary to understand my past, well I’ve always lived in the home, so that is my past.”

  Just as she was about to launch another question, Eliezer interrupted her. For a moment, I thought that he would come to my aid.

  “Does anyone want to share their New Year’s plans?” he asked, to which I asked myself: since when is this egotist so interested in what other people do?

  “We’re going to Colorado,” Ethan said.

  “That’s a good place for the occasion,” his wife completed.

  Eliezer made a gesture of approval and looked at me. I could see it coming…

  “And you, Wise… Where are you going to get bored on the 31st of December?”


  I resolved to follow his game.

  “Well… really… I’d love to get bored in New York, and it’s not that parties and hustle and bustle excite me, because they tend to make life complicated…” I began to say. He knew to what I was referring and I could notice how the slight smile unsuccessfully tried to escape from the prison bars of his lips when he drowned it with another gulp of wine.

  “And what is it that excites you to make you want to go there?” he interrupted.

  “Being part of an iconic event… being part of history.”

  Isabel didn’t lose the opportunity to insinuate herself in the conversation.

  “Interesting.”

  A voice I didn’t recognize spoke.

  “And you, Eliezer… What are your plans?”

  The redhead opened her eyes like a girl who’s been offered candy. I perceived the reaction as evidence that between those two there was something more than a “very good friendship.”

  “Nothing. That’s a day like any other. My life at midnight and one second on the morning of the first of January will continue being the same as it was at eleven fifty nine on December 31st.”

  For the others, those words were the typical arrogant and conceited Eliezer, but not for me. I felt every trace of pain and unhappiness that served as a canvas for what he was expressing.

  “Colorado promises to be too interesting a place for your life to go on unaffected. Don’t you think?”

  The redhead had proposed an invitation to him in public. The evening was becoming more interesting every time. Thinking that I knew him more than the others, I tried to imagine the possible affirmative and accepting answers that Eliezer could give her.

  What an idiot! Having sex like an animal can’t bring you to really know someone…

  “Perhaps. I’ll consider the three options, as well as a fourth, if it arises,” he said.

  Wine splattered the faces and clothes of the two turtledoves, but unfortunately, the cup that fell from my hand onto the table didn’t injure anyone. I could have been in worse trouble.

  Eliezer shot a deadly stare at me. He grabbed the closest napkin and wiped his face with it. At least he swallowed the insults. The redhead didn’t. Isabel rose and also joined her with her rude shrieking while she helped wipe him down. I said nothing; rather I lost myself in illogical thoughts.

  Norman’s voice brought me back to reality. My subconscious, moreover, ordered me to. My reason sometimes prevailed, even though, in reality, it hadn’t been that way during recent days as long as there was a bed and Eliezer around at the same time. Norman had to have noticed the tones of sarcasm and the word games. He became the voice of harmony for the rest of the luncheon, setting the subjects of conversation, and marginalizing Isabel’s intrusions.

  I became desperate to leave such a horrible date. Seeing the redhead act like Eliezer’s sidekick–following his every move–made me nauseous. I hated the looks of anger she threw at me even more. When Ethan and his wife were saying their goodbyes, I took advantage of their exit and did the same.

  I approached my car. Instead of going home, I went to a restaurant with a bar. Contrary to my expectations, the place was almost empty. I took a stool and ordered one craft beer after another. Sometimes, after work, I would go there, and not only because they had a good selection of craft beers that I so love for their distinctive flavors that awaken the senses, but also because I knew the bartender from the home where I was raised, so we always had pleasant topics of conversation between us. That evening we talked sporadically about the basketball game on the TV screens.

  Shortly before nightfall, after befriending another waiter and some men that sat next to me, I heard someone say my name. No, it wouldn’t have been the voice that I wanted to hear, so I didn’t turn around to look. The voice repeated my name. I turned my eyes to toward the direction of the voice. I couldn’t contain my laughter.

  “Would you mind if I ask you what’s so funny?”

  “Hello, officer.”

  There was no doubt. Definitely, hell had taken upon itself to send a fallen angel of temptation at a very delicate time: inspector Carlos Hernandez. He began speaking again, this time, more seriously:

  “How many of those have you had, Miranda?”

  “However many I needed to make it hard to stop laughing.”

  He took the vacant seat next to me and got comfortable. Not a trace of contagious laughter could be seen on his face. Hernandez looked so serious, I took a gulp of air to dilute the alcohol in my blood. When I exhaled, my inclination to laughter intensified.

  “At some point will you tell me what is making you laugh so hard?” His eyes relaxed. He was beginning to feel comfortable.

  “You, me, here, this place… what brought me here. Everything is so funny! But let’s forget about what’s making me laugh.” I wanted to guide the conversation toward another topic, far from what could bring me to tell him my heartbreak over Eliezer, or, worse still, make me have a romp with him as though he were really Eliezer. “How are you, inspector?”

  He let loose a smile.

  “Very good, Miranda.” He played along. “And you?”

  “Perfectly fine, thanks. Will you join me?”

  He analyzed the possibilities before answering.

  “Sure, but only to assure myself that you get home safely.”

  Oh, now I had to negotiate. For God’s sake, Miranda. How could you have drunk so much? It was only one beer… I didn’t like it when I was subject to conditions. Growing up with Norman had exposed me to being in power, enjoying it, to be the one to set the rules and conditions. A few beers were not going to shake my pride.

  “Great! So, what will you have to drink?”

  “Whatever you’re having would be fine.”

  My friend, the bartender, served us the beers and placed them on the counter in front of us. I took my glass and, with a gesture, prompted Hernandez to take his.

  “A toast to chance.” It was the best my intoxicated mouth could say.

  “A toast to people who believe in chance.”

  That was cute.

  An hour later we were still there, with three more beers on our tab. The attraction was showing. He was also a basketball fan, and he couldn’t believe that he was having such a pleasant and complex conversation with a female.

  Suddenly, he took his cell phone out of his back pocket. The tight jeans certainly fit him really, really well. He looked at the screen and made a gesture of annoyance.

  “I have to go. I forgot that I have an engagement.” He got up.

  “In that case, it was a pleasure to talk with you and thank you for sharing a few beers with me.”

  “Not so fast, Miranda. Did you forget that we have a deal?”

  The truth is that I did, in fact, forget about that. I didn’t want him to know.

  “Don’t worry, Carlos. That’s not necessary.”

  He put on his serious face again.

  “A deal is a deal, Wise.”

  “I can go alone. Calm down, because I’m not drunk.”

  Hernandez confronted me like a member of a SWAT team. He fixed his eyes on my pupils. His tone of voice was low and firm.

  “I know that you are a good person, and it would be hard for you to do someone harm.”

  Where does this guy want to take me? What is he talking about?

  He continued.

  “I’m an officer charged with preserving the public order, and protecting and looking after others is my responsibility. If I turn around and leave, I would not be doing my duty and I’d be in trouble.” He turned his head lightly. “You don’t want to cause problems for me, right?”

  Carlos Hernandez didn’t have the slightest idea what kind of problems he was tempting me to cause him. I smiled.

  “Have they told you that you have an admirable power for persuasion and negotiation?” I frowned while I looked for the key to my car in my purse.

  “I live off that, my dear Miranda,” he said with a look o
f sweetness.

  “If you ever find yourself out of work one day, or you want a change of scenery, let me know. You’d be really usefull on my team.”

  His smile exposed the dimple on his right cheek.

  I called out to my friend at the other end of the bar and gave him the key to my car.

  “They’ll come for it in a bit.”

  He nodded his head and gave me a smile that I returned. I raised an arm toward Carlos.

  “You’re in charge, Mr. Officer. Shall we go?”

  We walked in total silence. The situation ended up a bit uncomfortable, but fun. We got close to an all-terrain truck and Hernandez, in a gesture of chivalry, opened the passenger door.

  “Where do I go, Miranda?” he said when he got in.

  “Do I really have to tell you?” He looked at me like he wanted to understand the question. “Isn’t it understood that you know where I live? Isn’t that part of your job?”

  He laughed. He had an attractive, contagious laugh.

  “You haven’t answered my question.” I stopped laughing. I accept a certain level of responsibility. “So, I leave myself in your hands.”

  What the hell did I just say? That I’m in his hands? How many ways could he interpret those words? Let’s see… that I trust him, that I appreciate the gesture of making sure that I wouldn’t leave my thirty two years of life hanging from a tree or at the bottom of a ravine… or, perhaps, I was indeed in his hands, literally, and that he could do with me what he wanted. Everything he wanted…

  I raised my hands to my head.

  Shit! Another event to add to my list of embarrassing moments!

  Hernandez deciphered my thoughts and the redness of my face, because the heat that was rising in me was definitely from embarrassment. He laughed a milder laugh than before. He imitated my comforting words.

  “Easy, Miranda. This isn’t my first time. I’m an expert in bringing people home who have had too much to drink.”

  What an ability he had to ease the tension during suffocating moments! Fifteen minutes later and we were in front of my home. If the man didn’t want to spend the night with me, at least I had an excuse to have him with me for a few more minutes.