Immortal Love (16 page)

“Yes. Actually it was because I wanted to ask you this that I waited for you. I don’t think it’s good for Bécquer to be alone right now.”

“But he’s not. Matt lives over the garage. And — ”

Richard shook his head. “Not anymore. Rachel told me Matt left last week.”

“What about Rachel?”

“Rachel doesn’t live with Bécquer.”

“They may not live together but they — ” I stopped, embarrassed when I noticed the trace of jealousy trailing in my voice.

Richard took his eyes from the road and shot a glance in my direction. “Lovers. Is that what you think? That Bécquer and Rachel are lovers?”

I nodded.

“You’re wrong. They are not lovers. I’m sure of it.”

I disagreed. Even if I had not seen them flirting in Café Vienna, Rachel’s behavior today was proof enough that her feelings for Bécquer went well beyond a simple boss-secretary relationship.

“If, as you say, they are not lovers, why was Rachel so upset today?”

“I didn’t say she didn’t care for him. The distress she showed today obviously suggests she does. But Bécquer does not care for her that way, or he would not have fired her. Today was her last day with him.”

I thought about it for a moment. I wasn’t convinced. “It may be her last day as his secretary. That does not mean she won’t continue seeing him.”

“Yes, it does. Rachel told me Bécquer was adamant. He strictly forbade her to come back any more, which means Bécquer will be on his own. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But he can’t be alone. Doesn’t he need help?”

“Yes, of course he needs help. That’s why he hired David and two other nurses who take shifts around the clock. I was talking about friends.”

“I don’t think Bécquer thinks of me as a friend. He didn’t even tell me he was incapacitated.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell you because he cared too much and didn’t want your pity.”

“He cares for you, Carla,” Richard told me when I said nothing. “I saw the way he looked at you at the party. I would have given my soul for him to look at me that way. And I was not the only one to notice. Beatriz was jealous of you, so jealous that she quit that very night. What more proof do you want, Carla?”

He had gotten it all wrong, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him Bécquer only cared for me because I was the descendant of his wife’s third son. I couldn’t tell him Beatriz had left because she had stolen Bécquer’s blood and become immortal. And I was too ashamed to tell him that, regardless of the fact that Bécquer didn’t love me, I was in love with him.

“I don’t know what happened between you two that night that makes you doubt him so. But I know he still cares for you. He has never pushed me so hard to read a manuscript in the ten years I’ve known him.”

“That might have been because he wants to finish all his projects before retiring.”

“Retiring? Did he tell you he was retiring?”

“But he mustn’t,” he added frantically after I told him what Bécquer had said. “He shouldn’t make such a big decision right now. Bécquer loves being an agent and he’s good at it. Of course he’s upset now, but he won’t always feel that way. His clients would understand if he takes some time off. Losing the use of his legs and his career at the same time could be too much, even for someone as strong as he is.”

“Are you suggesting he may be thinking of killing himself?”

Richard remained silent for a moment as if considering my question. Then he shook his head. “No. Bécquer loves life too much for that. But he needs help to adapt to his new situation. He needs friends. Knowing he has decided to retire only makes my request more pressing.

“Please, Carla, promise me that you’ll check on him tomorrow and on the following days, as often as he will allow you to visit him. I don’t want him to be alone.”

I promised. Not only because he was right that Bécquer should not be alone, but also because I wanted to know the truth. Was Bécquer really human? And if he was, who had changed him and why? The only explanation I could think of was that the Elders had punished him for making Beatriz immortal. But if they had, where was Federico? And why hadn’t he told me?

After I dropped Richard at the station I called Madison to let her know I was coming home. The call was mainly for my own peace of mind, because, as usual, she didn’t seem to care whether I was in Princeton or being eaten by a shark, as long as I was back in time to chauffer her around. And right then, as she was grounded, she had no need for me.

I had just crossed the toll bridge over the Delaware and was back in Pennsylvania when my phone rang.

“Carla? Can you talk?” Federico’s voice broke through the speaker, his Spanish accent thicker than I remembered it.

“Bécquer is not answering his phone,” he continued, after I confirmed I was alone.

“Have you tried his cell?”

“Yes,” he said. Switching to Spanish, he rushed on, “Both his house and his cell. Have you seen him? Are you sure he can’t walk?”

I pulled to the shoulder because I didn’t trust myself to drive, and told him about our meeting, Bécquer’s confession that he was retiring, and Richard’s account of Bécquer’s accident and of his staying at the hospital.

“Hospital?” Federico interrupted me. “Bécquer was at the hospital?”

“He was unconscious when they found him. Rachel called an ambulance.”

“Don’t you see, Carla, if he is still immortal — ”

“ — they would have noticed he’s not human.”

“Exactly.”

“But he is immortal, isn’t he? He is still immortal.”

“I don’t know, Carla. Something is wrong.”

“You mean it’s possible for an immortal to become human again?”

“
Sí
,” Federico said after a slight hesitation. “
Es posible
. The Elders have the power to do so, and Bécquer did break the law by making Beatriz immortal, but even if they made him human, he shouldn’t be paralyzed. He was walking when I left him.”

“You knew the Elders could make him human and you left him alone? How could you? Why didn’t you wait until the Elders had passed their sentence?”

“I never thought they would apply such penalty given that it was Beatriz who stole his blood. Besides, why do you act so surprised that I left? You know I’m only allowed to be with Bécquer for a week and you were the one who told me I had to let him make his own mistakes, if I wanted him to stop acting like a child.”

Yes. I had said that. Maybe the fact that my children never followed my advice had pushed me to giving it too freely. If people were going to listen to me, I would have to be more careful, or more precise, when expressing my opinions.

“I didn’t mean it literally, Federico. I didn’t expect you to leave him when he was still in recovery.”

“He was doing much better when I left,” Federico insisted, “and he had Rachel to care for him. Obviously it wasn’t enough and now he’s in trouble. So, at the risk of eliciting his fury, I’m coming to check on him.”

“Do you want me to pick you up at the airport?”

“No. Matt will drive.”

So that’s why Matt was not with Bécquer anymore. I should have guessed they were together, for their mutual attraction had been evident last time I saw them, but somehow, the thought had not occurred to me.

“Matt — ” I stopped. Whether Matt and Federico were together was none of my business. “Where are you now, Federico?”

“Washington. Washington, D.C., which means we’ll be there later tonight, but until we arrive, could you please go back to Bécquer’s house, and stay with him?”

“I … I don’t think it’s a good idea. Bécquer chose not to tell me of his condition. I think he will hate to see me now.”

“I don’t care whether Bécquer hates it or not. I just don’t want him to be alone tonight.”

“David, his nurse, is with him,” I argued because I found the idea of intruding into Bécquer’s private life so late in the evening intimidating.

“A nurse? A nurse he could trick without even trying. You don’t know Bécquer as I do, Carla. It’s not like him to push a publisher to sign a book contract in such a hurry. That, and the fact that he’s retiring, troubles me.”

Federico sounded relieved when I told him I would stop at Bécquer’s on my way home. “I’ll take care of everything when I get there, I promise. But could you please contact me after you see him? Or better still, tell Bécquer to call me?”

I called Madison again after my talk with Federico, to let her know I might not come home until much later. When she didn’t pick up, I sent her a text message.

It was close to seven when I drove up the narrow driveway and into the expanse before the main entrance where I had parked in the afternoon. The Jeep was still there, which meant David was in the house. Or so I hoped, because, apart from the two lamps flanking the front door, the house stood in total darkness.

I turned off the engine and stepped outside. The bang of the door closing, the cracking of the gravel under my feet, the beep from my car lock, the snap of the doors locking, each and every sound came back eerily amplified against the black silence that surrounded me.

Somewhere along the way, the rain had stopped but the clouds still must have covered the sky, for I could not see a single star and the house loomed in front of me, an imposing shadow against the dark sky.

I hesitated as I reached the stairs. It was clear visitors were not expected at this time, or welcomed, and at the thought of facing Bécquer or, worse still, of having him refuse to see me, filled me with such dread, my whole body hurt with the urge to flee. But my promise to Federico bound me to at least try.

Forcing my legs to move, I climbed the steps to the porch and knocked. Nobody answered. I knocked again, slamming the iron knocker hard, then grabbed the knob and twisted it. To my surprise, it turned under my hand and the door opened.

I stood still, for a moment, straining my eyes to see. It was even darker inside, the only light being the one coming from the porch. No, not the only one, for, after a moment, I saw a faint glow to my right. Then, I heard a sound, the unexpected sound of someone cheering.

“Bécquer?” I called. When there was no answer, I crossed the hall into the great room, and then stopped.

The glow, I could see now, belonged to a game playing on a TV screen. On the sofa facing the screen, someone was sitting.

“Bécquer,” I repeated, louder this time. When he didn’t move, I turned the lights on to get his attention.

As the iron chandelier above us came to life, the person on the sofa jumped to his feet.

He’s standing, I thought. Bécquer is standing. Relief washed over me — relief and embarrassment. If Bécquer was all right, I had no reason to be there. But when he turned and I saw his face, I realized my relief had been premature, for it was David, not Bécquer who was looking at me. David holding the video game controller in his hand as if it were a weapon to fend off an intruder.

“Ms. Esteban?” Recognition replaced the surprise on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer the door.”

“What?” he asked, loud enough to be heard a mile away.

I touched my ears and David dropped the remote in the sofa and jerked his headphones off. He smiled apologetically, “Sorry.”

Disappointment and anger fought in my mind because David’s presence reminded me that Bécquer was disabled and in need of help, help David could hardly provide if he was so intensely engaged in playing a game. “Aren’t you supposed to be attending to Mr. Bécquer?”

David raised his head defiantly at the accusation implied by my words. “Mr. Bécquer has already retired for the night.”

I glowered at him in disbelief. “That is no excuse. What if he needs you?”

“He would call me on my cell,” David said, producing a phone from his pocket.

“That’s not good enough. Bécquer’s not answering his phone. Maybe he dropped it and can’t reach it.”

“Or maybe he’s just sleeping.”

“Let’s hope that is the case. You didn’t hear me knocking or coming in, and, according to Federico, you didn’t answer the house phone either. A most irresponsible behavior. So, if you don’t want me to report you to your employer, I’d appreciate it if you checked on Mr. Bécquer right away and ask him if he would see me.”

“Now? But he’s probably sleeping.”

“It’s only eight o’clock. Isn’t it a little early?”

“He was tired after the meeting,” David said, his tone clearly stating this was none of my business. “He went directly to his room and asked me not to disturb him. He even canceled his dinner.”

Dinner? The image of Bécquer having dinner resonated strangely in my mind. Bécquer was an immortal and immortals do not eat. Not human food, anyway.

“Did he eat the other days?” I asked, before realizing how stupid I sounded.

David looked at me, nonplussed. “Yes, of course.”

Of course. I shivered with apprehension. Could Federico be right? Had the Elders changed Bécquer back to being human? The signs that this was true were becoming more difficult to ignore. And yet, I didn’t want to believe it because if Bécquer was, indeed, human, his retiring struck me as being as bad an omen as Richard had made it sound.

“I need to talk to Bécquer,” I insisted. “Either you go and ask him whether he’ll see me, or I’ll go to his room.”

I turned toward the stairs when David didn’t move. His voice stopped me. “Mr. Bécquer is not in his old room. It was not practical for him to live on the second floor.”

Too late, I realized that knowing where Bécquer’s bedroom was might have given David the wrong idea. Not that it really mattered, yet I found myself blushing.

“Then where is he?” I asked, as sternly as I could manage to hide my embarrassment.

David sighed. “The room next to his study.”

It made sense, I thought as I followed him. Yet it saddened me that Bécquer had had to give up the comfort of his own room.

“Would you please let me talk with him first?” David asked as we reached the corridor.

I nodded, somehow relieved. For all my bravado, I was not looking forward to confronting Bécquer. I was afraid, immortal or not, he would be able to see through me, to see how much I cared for him and how distressed I was at his current predicament.