The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect) (14 page)

BOOK: The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect)
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Layla watched as yet another yet another dark haze of disappointment emanated from him, and she bit her lip. “Ramon?” she called out.

“Yeah?” he turned around just in time to see her pull her hand away from Conrad’s grip.

“I’ll see you on Saturday.”

He paused, and Layla watched his colors completely transform. “I’ll pick you up at two,” he said, spinning around to hide the enormous grin that rose on his face as he walked away.

~

 

Chapter Twelve

QUINCE
ANERA

 

~

 

Ramon picked her up right on time, wearing slacks and a buttoned down shirt with a vest.

“Wow! You look nice,” she said, surprised to see him so dressed up.

He laughed his easy laugh. “I clean up okay.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she could see he wasn’t angry. In fact, he was feeling especially
cheery. She looked down at her simple silk blouse and linen skirt, “Am I okay?”

“You always look good,” he said, completely sincere.

He drove her out of the mountains, down to where the redwoods thinned and were replaced by oak trees and grass covered hills. They passed vineyards with bright spring leaves soaking up the midday sun, each row capped off by a rosebush in full bloom. They finally pulled up to a house set back amid the vineyards, its long gravel driveway already lined with parked cars.

“Are we late?” Layla asked nervously.

“No. We’re just in time,” Ramon answered, looking in his rear view mirror to see a long black limousine pulling up behind them. “They’re just getting back from the service.”

“Service?” Layla asked.

“Church service,” he replied, parking behind a line of cars.

“I thought it was a birthday party,” she said.

“It’s a special birthday.”

He jumped out and rushed Layla up the road to a low roofed ranch-style house surrounded by
more blooming rosebushes. Instead of going to the front door, he led her around the back to where they came upon a crowd gathered outside, speaking in a mix of Spanish and English, rosy peach with anticipation.

The people all faced the house, forming a semi-circle around a charming brick patio decorated with crepe paper streamers and pink balloons. Layla hung back and scanned the group, surprised by the size of it. All the women were dressed to the nines, and there were several handsome men that looked like older versions of Ramon. Little clusters of excited teenagers kept to themselves and younger children playing games darted in and out of the crowd, their exuberant energy adding to the mix. Layla hung back, a little overwhelmed.

“C’mon,” Ramon said, taking her hand and weaving through the people. They passed by a tiny old woman in a bright red dress who locked eyes with Layla, sucking in her breath sharply and clutching her throat.

“Dios mio,” she whispered under her breath.

Ramon maneuvered Layla to a spot with a better view, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “She’s gonna make a grand entrance.”

Layla stood nervously, not sure exactly what was going on. She could feel eyes on her, and turned to see the old woman in red
staring with hostile suspicion, a lone cloud of dark skepticism standing out from the joyous anticipation emanating from the rest of the crowd. Layla looked away, wondering what it was about her that the woman disliked so much.

When the double doors of the house opened, Layla forgot everything else.

An excited young girl appeared, flanked by her proud parents. She was pulsing with the most exquisite shades of excitement and happiness, bound together by a nervous yellow. Her shining black hair was coiled elaborately and piled high on her head. She wore a strapless gown with a princess cut bodice and a gigantic full skirt rustling with multiple layers of pink tulle. It was the biggest, pinkest, girliest dress Layla had ever seen, and she gasped softly, completely enchanted.

The girl’s mother produced a sparkling tiara
and affixed it onto her head, standing back to watch her father hand her a jeweled scepter. The pure love, pride and joy that the three of them shared in that moment was breathtaking, and Layla could see it, feel it, and taste it like no-one else in the crowd. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned with a rush of sweet emotion.

Everyone broke into applause, rushing forward to take photographs as the girl stood nervously with the scepter draped across her arm and a radiant glow lighting her face. Ramon smiled at the spectacle, thinking that Layla must think it was pretty cheesy, but when he turned to look at her he was surprised to find her completely enthralled, watching the scene unfold with glowing eyes.

“She’s gorgeous,” she whispered, staring at the happy family with a wistful expression softening her face. “Just like a princess.”

Ramon couldn’t take his eyes
away from Layla, thinking he’d never seen her look so beautiful.

“Tio Ramon! Tio Ramon!” Two little girls ran up to him to attach themselves onto his legs, giggling with glee as he stooped down to scoop them up, one in each arm. They looked like miniature versions of the birthday girl, adorable living dolls dressed in frilly white gowns. He squeezed them a
nd spun around, making them squeal with delight. A woman that Layla recognized from the picture on Ramon’s desk rushed over just as he set them down.

“Ramon!” she scolded, kneeling down to straighten the sashes and ruffles on their dresses. “We still need to take the pictures!”

He winked at the girls, gesturing towards Layla. “Layla, this is my sister Rosa. And these two are Selena and Maria.” He bent down to speak to the girls, “Layla is a twin too.”

“Where is your sister?” asked Selena.

“I have a twin brother,” Layla replied.

Maria squinted up at her
to see the bright rays of the sun setting Layla’s red hair on fire. “Your hair is pretty,” she said.

Rosa straightened up and took Layla’s offered hand with a warm smile. “So… You’re the girl I’ve been hearing so much about.”


Rosa
…” Ramon’s voice held a warning.

She smiled mischievously at him, and Layla could see the teasing affection between them. Someone called for Rosa to bring the girls for pictures, and she took
each one by the hand. “Excuse us,” she said as she rushed off, turning to look back at Layla. “It’s nice to meet you.”

When the crowds thinned out Ramon
took Layla over to the receiving line to offer their congratulations to his niece. He proceeded to introduce her to so many aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews that she completely lost track of who was who. Glasses were passed around and toasts were made in Spanish and English. Someone called out that it was time to eat and people started filing into the house, coming out with plates and sitting at picnic tables set up under the oak trees in the yard.

Ramon led Layla to a table in the shade, setting down their glasses and brushing
leaves off the seat for her. “I’ll get you a plate,” he said, and she watched him leave, admiring him from behind as he walked away. Evenly muscled, he moved with easy grace, and her eyes traveled from the snug fit of his pants to his shining black hair. She wondered how it would feel to the touch.

Layla felt a wave of heat coming from her right side, turning in her seat to see a group of girls watching her from the next table over. There was curiosity
among them, along with jealousy and resentment. They stopped talking the second she looked at them, and finally a tall and short one approached her boldly.

The tall one demanded to know, “So… How do you know Ramon?”

Layla stared at her coldly, thinking that the professor would never have tolerated such rudeness. She’d been around plenty of catty manipulative women in her summer at Max’s house, so she knew exactly what the girl’s intentions were. She also knew that she could shut their mouths and send them scurrying off in an irrational panic with one well-practiced look.

“And you are?” she asked.

The tall girl looked sideways at her shorter companion, gathering her courage with a smirk. “You might think Ramon’s some big-shot straight-laced cop, but you don’t know him like we do. You don’t know nuthin’ bout him.”

Just then
Ramon’s sister Rosa appeared, radiating fierce protective shades of blue and green. “Don’t know about what?” She stood there with her hand on her hips. “Well? Lupe? Yolanda?”

The girls looked at each other and back at Rosa, their fun ruined. When Lupe spoke her high-pitched voice was sugary sweet, “We only came over to say hello.”
Yolanda turned her spite towards Rosa, “I was
so
sorry to hear that you and Jose broke up,” she said. It didn’t take Layla’s special powers to see that she was completely insincere.

Layla watched them turn and
flounce off. Little did they know, but Rosa had just spared them an afternoon of paranoia or depression.

“Don’t mind them,” Rosa said. “They’re just girls from the old neighborhood. Friends of the family.” She looked over at the group, buzzing like a
disturbed beehive. “They’re just jealous because Ramon doesn’t want to go out with any of them.”

Layla nodded, “I can see that.”

Ramon returned, carrying two plates of food. He looked pleased to find Rosa and Layla talking.

“Excuse me. I better go see what my girls are up to,” Rosa said. “Enjoy.”

Ramon slid in next to Layla so they could both face out to the vineyards and watch the sun dip behind the rolling hills, its last long rays setting the tips of the vines aglow. “This is my favorite time of the day,” he said.

“This place is absolutely beautiful,” Layla observed.

Ramon looked around with satisfaction. “My father used to work these fields, and he promised himself one day he’d have his own house out here in the country. Now he’s a grower, and he gets top dollar for these grapes. Both of my folks worked day and night for years to save up for this place… To move the family out here, away from the old neighborhood,” he said.

She could see how proud he was, and she watched him, mesmerized. He looked at her with warm eyes. “Eat!” he urged her.

She studied her plate with a perplexed look on her face. There was a mound of colorful rice, black beans topped with sliced avocados arranged in a fan, and two packages made of corn husks tied up in bows like little gifts.

“These are cute…
What are they?”

H
is eyes squinted at hers in genuine puzzlement. “Tamales.”

Her brows knit together. As far as she knew, tomalley was the
disgusting green stuff inside of lobster that Professor Reed liked so much.

“You’ve never had one?”

She shook her head no.

His eyebrows flew up, and she was surprised by how surprised he was. “Haven’t you ever had Mexican food before?”

“My… My…Teddy only liked French food,” Layla stammered.

“Teddy?”

“Our guardian… The man who raised me and Michael.”

“You must not have gotten out much,” Ramon laughed.

Layla knew her upbringing was odd, but she never dreamed that Ramon would be able to figure it out so easily. She probably shouldn’t have come. She looked down, ashamed.

“Hey,” he said, patting her arm. “Give it a try. You might like it.”

She looked up to see him drenching her with warm peach concern, and she swallowed, nodding. She carefully unfolded her napkin and watched him unwrap his tamale, following his lead. She reached for her fork and took a bite, looking up to see him grinning at her.

“Well?”

She smiled back, “It’s good. Delicious.”

He wiped his brow with mock relief. “That’s good, because Rosa made them.” He leaned in closer, “She likes you.”

Layla looked down and smiled, pleased. “I like her too. She’s nice.”

Before they finished eating a uniformed band appeared and started
wandering among the diners. They played music with sweet strains of violin and romantic guitars topped off by a passionate trumpet. The men all wore white suits with red bows tied around their necks, accompanied by a woman singer in a white dress with big crimson flowers pinned into her hair. Soon the darkening evening sky was filled with sweetest harmonies Layla had ever heard, sung with so much emotion that it brought a lump to her throat.


It’s so beautiful… What are they saying?”

“It’s a song about love… About falling in love.”

He scooted just a little bit closer to her and then there was nothing in the world but the weight of his leg pressing against hers and the music floating past them in the dusky sky. She shivered a little at the sensation, and he scooted even closer, leaning in to ask, “Are you cold?”

She could barely spe
ak, overwhelmed by his nearness and the sensation of his warm breath in her ear. She shook her head no, afraid to look at him. The band stopped playing and called for everyone to gather under the twinkling lights strung high above the patio.

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