Chapter 10
I arrived back at the villa after a slow, lonely walk. I felt numb. Empty. Hot and cold, guilty and angry, alternating mercilessly. The sun was getting low, the hills stretched shadows across the roads and sand.
In my head, the same question played over and over. Did you really think you could do that with your mother?
Did you?
I ducked through the front door and went straight to my room. Mom wasn't on the first floor at least. It was a relief. I didn't think I could even look at her. But I wanted to, as an honorable man would. I wanted to look her in the eyes, take it all back, to say I was sorry, to try and make things right. But by the way she pushed me back, the way she left without speaking, told me that maybe I had broken the very precious trust and grace she held toward me.
At least, I figured, I could go back to the states, go back to college. Pretend none of this had ever happened, while nursing the agony of this unspeakable day for the rest of my life. I could get married to a girl my age. I could have kids of my own. I could live an entire life of my own, but I knew through all of it, I would always relive the deep regret of today.
I knocked at the bathroom, making sure it was empty. Showered. The bathroom had a faintly humid feel to it. The mirror was just barely fogged. Mom had gotten here before me. The thought of it made my heart ache.
Trying to keep the thoughts of her wet, gorgeous, porcelain body, the one that would never be mine out of my mind, I freshened up and changed into a loose button up shirt that made allowance for the heat.
Dad was awake, finally. His red eyes looked like concentrated misery. Sleep deprivation and cheap booze over the last few days had completely thrown him off. He was gulping some pills from a travel bag and washed it down with what looked like instant coffee. "Morning, kid," his voice croaked in the late afternoon. He was the picture of hungover suffering, but he had a fake smile on that creased through his unshaved face. "Ready for a party tonight?"
"You can't be serious," I almost laughed at him.
"I am serious," dad mumbled. "Your mom made me promise her before the trip that I'd take her dancing. So. Day two, and we'll get it done, and then we can relax with all of our tasks complete. Good plan, huh?"
I nodded back, ready with an excuse to stay home.
Then mom's footsteps came softly down the stairs. I didn't want to look up.
"Wow..." dad's surprised voice startled me. "Nora. You look..."
I looked up. My jaw let go.
Dad couldn't even finish his own sentence either.
Mom stood halfway down the steps, a light summer dress floating about her. It was patterned, reaching only down to her soft thighs, scattering colors with yellows and reds, blue and green flowers, Aztec rhythmed vines, all the edges frilled and laced. Vintage Mexican styles clearly influenced whoever designed it, but it held itself low, the tops of her shoulders completely exposed as the straps lay around her arms. Mom's hair cascaded down, around her shoulders and back, drifting along the soft white of the tops of her breasts, leading to her long, pale arms draped over the railing.
Her makeup... in this instant I realized that mom really was an incredible beauty. All this time, she maybe only had a little makeup on, but tonight... she had really put forward an effort. Her eyes were dusky, her lashes longer, darker. Her lips jutted out, a darkened scarlet between two rosy pink cheeks. Her poise was calm, clear, dignified. Noble. Impossibly beautiful. Like a mythical queen, in the body of the perfect woman.
She made eye contact with me for an impossible second. Her face straight and unreadable. I had to look away. Then she looked at dad. "Well?"
"Now we're talking," marveled dad. Mom laughed in response and brushed her hair back, shyly looking his way.
The dress swirled as she descended, the heights of her lovely legs peeking out with each movement. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. She was so, so beautiful.
"Well, I'm ready," dad stood up, actually showing some enthusiasm as he tried to keep from tipping over. "I promised you a dance, and now we're going to make it happen." He reached out a hand, and mom took it. Her dark eyes went back up to mine. I felt the ache in my heart grow. She looked away from me again.
"Come on, kid," dad called. "You're buying everything tonight!"
We went out together, waved down a taxi in the village, and took a quick journey over the norther border into Chetumal, Mexico. The city really was along the border lines. Brick and adobe buildings poked upward past the checkpoint. A few guards lazily glanced at our passports at the taxi window, mostly staring at mom, whose sunglasses kept them from getting a good look at her face. They settled for looking down at her gorgeous body instead, then waved us on.
Chetumal's streets were lined with palms, hung with lights, glowing softly in the increasing darkness. Hundreds of flags and patterned banners hung over us in the streets while electric lights popped up like fireflies. Little crowds formed, young people readying themselves for the night life, spilling out of bars, restaurants, cantina music dancing over us.
By the time we got out of the car, dad seemed like he had recovered, walking quickly towards a cantina that seemed especially decorated with lights, the brickwork rising a few stories into the air. He rattled off his opinions, glancing often at mom, who leaned on his arm as they walked. "Here's this great little spot I saw last night. I didn't go in, had a little disagreement with the guy at the entry, but I'm sure he wouldn't say no to us if I brought this pretty little thing," he chatted happily, looking often at mom, who smiled, blushing, surprised at the compliment.
The man at the entry waved us in without another look, and then stopped a couple people behind us that were too drunk for how early it was.
It was a multi-storied bar full of wide, brightly colored verandas -- everything about the place seemed half inside, half outside. Toward the back and at the front, several patios unfolded from the interior, where a live band with trumpets and guitars and great black hats played excitedly. The whole place was festive, with an explosion of color and sound. We found an empty table on a patio overlooking the street below, with a great view of the dancing area, where adobe pillars and flowers on vines surrounded the multi-colored tiles.
"I'll get the beers," I offered, wanting to get away. I went to the bar, put up three fingers for three beers, forked over the cash, and gathered the cervesas, as cool to the touch as the hidden pool. Some feminine voices spoke in English at one end of the bar. Pretty girls, about my age, chatted with drinks in their hands, laughing, cheering, sipping margaritas, talking happily in mellow southern accents. I made eye contact with a blonde girl with freckles, who waved at me, guessing I was probably American too.
I gave a little nod, trying to smile. But I left to bring the beers to mom and dad. She shrugged and waved goodbye to me, looking a little disappointed.
Maybe I'd go back a little later. She seemed friendly.
I got back and saw mom hanging on dad's arm. As I dropped of their drinks, mom looked up at me, and then quickly back down. Dad reached for his beer like he was a man dying of thirst. It went down in seconds, and then he jumped up. "Alright, honey," he joked, "let's get this dance over with."
They went off to the dance floor while I nursed my beer. The noises seemed too loud. The sights lost all their color. I didn't want to stay while they enjoyed themselves. They could have done all this without me.
Really, more than anything else in that moment, I wanted to get on a flight home and to forget everything. I took a quick glance to the dancing area and saw them, close to each other, mom's dress swishing as she moved. The dress only went to her thigh - her movements were fluid, and the dress seemed to flow as well, flowing up her leg, back down, revealing the tops of her lovely, creamy thighs and hiding them, over and over.
I downed my beer and grabbed the one mom had barely sipped, draining that one too. One of the waitstaff went by and I flagged them down, asking for three more beers. I felt the alcoholic glow in my cheeks. Some of the color returned. The sound came back. I watched, only a little less sad, as mom gorgeously twirled on the dance floor to the bright sound of horns and guitars and tenor voices.
The song ended.
Dad turned to head back to the table, but mom pulled his arm, and gestured at the place they stood. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear. Mom wanted to keep dancing with him, but dad, satisfied that he kept at least one of his promises, wanted to hurry up and get back to drinking. He yanked his arm away, entirely focused on something else. Mom stood, shocked, in the middle of the dance floor. Her head turned slightly. She looked at me, seeming so... alone.
Dad collapsed in the chair next to me. "Ahh. A well-deserved reward." He took the beer and looked around casually. His head stopped when he saw the crowd of American girls at the bar. "Some friends of yours, champ?" He downed another beer in one go and motioned at a waiter. "Tequila. Tres. Si." Turning to me, he asked, "And what will you have, son?" He threw his head back, laughing.
"I'm good," I answered, as mom returned to the table, sitting next to dad. The tequila appeared as quickly as he asked for it. "Ahh," he sighed. "Paradise." He threw them back, one after the other, at a speed that would have put any college partier to shame. His head turned back to the bar where the American girls were.
"I'm..." he hummed, staring fixedly at the blonde girl with the freckles, "going to see what other drinks they've got here." Without any hesitation, he stood up and walked straight up to her group. Mom watched him go, her eyes hollow.
I couldn't imagine what she was feeling, but from the way she looked, I could guess, hint at the kind of frustration she was facing.
What could Nora possibly have missed that meant her husband would treat her like this? She looked amazing -- had done herself up as best as she could. She was beautifully shaped, her face was beautifully painted, and the way the dress laid along the sides of her shoulders, hinting at the sexy plush of her chest, it made literally every man who looked at her linger. All except for dad, who was now making an ass of himself in front of somebody much younger than him. The blonde at the bar chatted and laughed at his jokes, oblivious to the kind of person he was. The girl smiled at him. Touched his arm.
