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In the scarlet glow of a January afternoon in St. Augustine Florida, Fern Costello poked her binoculars through the curtains of her window in the Oceanview Condominiums. From there, she could look across a landscaped courtyard to another building in the development. Several floors of outdoor passageways lined with doors and windows were clearly visible. A different angle offered a picture-perfect view of the roaring ocean.
The retiree from Queens in New York City called to her husband, seated nearby watching television.
“Hey Harold,” she yelled in her pronounced New York accent. “Carlos is back and Liz is with him. That’s the girl I’ve been telling you about. She visited Carlos a few months ago. They have suitcases, clothes and a dog. She must be moving in.”
“Am I going to have to listen to your Carlos chronicles again?” Harold groaned, looking up from the television. “It was a break having the guy gone for two weeks.”
Fern sighed. “It’s nice seeing Carlos again. He grew a beard and it makes him even more handsome. He’s looking a heck of a lot better than he did after his motorcycle accident, when he was hobbling around on a cane.”
Harold’s gray eyebrows rushed together over his eyeglasses. “Will you stop spying on those people and being such a busybody!”
Fern ignored him. “Just yesterday, I watched Carlos’ big hunk of a brother, Jack, carry his belongings to the condo he bought. It’s a furnished unit in our building, one floor below us, and pretty darned classy. I walked through when the realtor left the door unlocked. Jack was living with Carlos for a while. I guess he got out in time for Liz to move in. He’s working now. I talked to him the other day and he told me he started a new job tending bar at that fancy La Concha restaurant.”
“Nosey old thing,” Harold grumbled. “I wish you’d mind your own business.”
“What goes on around here is my business. Yours too! Shut up and listen.”
She went on as if he had said nothing. “I wonder if Jack’s little gal, Rosa, will be coming down too. She was riding with him on his motorcycle, the last time the girls visited.”
Harold shook his head. “How the heck do you know all these people’s names?”
“I met Carlos and Jack around the development. They helped me carry groceries and Jack started my car when it stalled. They’re real nice fellas, very polite. Did you know they’re Cuban? I heard them speaking Spanish, but they have a trace of those cute southern accents too. I tell you, if I was thirty or forty years younger, I’d give Liz and Rosa a run for their money. Oh yeah, I learned the ladies names when I introduced myself in the elevator.”
If only Fern could have looked through walls into Carlos’ apartment, she would have seen him take Liz in his arms.
“There’s something I want you to know, Liz, something important. This is our condo, our home and everything I have is yours.”
Liz looked over his shoulder just in time to witness King and Pickles’ first meeting. She had forgotten about Pickles when she unhooked King from his leash. However, the huge cat had just hopped down from his perch atop a hutch, to waddle over and inspect his food dish.
King had nothing against cats, but he made the mistake of “sneaking up” on Pickles and sniffing him from behind. In an instant, Pickles puffed up to twice his already behemoth size. He whirled around hissing, spitting and raking Kings nose with his claws.
Dripping blood, the dog backed off and yelped. Liz rushed to tend to his wound.
Carlos looked on in shock. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I hope King is okay.”
The scratches on King’s nose would heal. However, the alpha animal in the household had been established. From then on, if King needed to walk anywhere near Pickles, he gave the feline a wide berth. Triumphant in his lookout atop the hutch, Pickles glared down with wide, yellow eyes—master of all he surveyed.
Once King was calm, Liz remarked that the condo felt stuffy.
“Can we open the bedroom window in front and the sliding glass doors in back to get some cross ventilation?”
“Sure, babe,” Carlos said, heading for the bedroom, while Liz opened the glass door, allowing a refreshing breeze through the screen.
Meanwhile in the bedroom, Carlos was struggling with the jammed window, which he realized had never been opened. Liz entered the room just in time to see him yank the window open in a burst of strength and thrust his fingers through the screen.
“Damn it!” he shouted.
“Gee sweetie,” Liz grimaced. “Maybe the cross ventilation thing was a mistake.”
Carlos gave her a warm look. “Don’t worry. It’s just a small tear. I’ll patch it up. For now, let’s bring more of your stuff into your new home.”
They quickly became busy and the torn screen was all but forgotten.
Carlos carried in a large painting, covered in a protective cloth. Setting it down in the living room, he unveiled Liz’s most recent creation, an “artistic conception” depicting the old stone wall on her New York property, winding toward the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine.
“I know you usually sell your art. But I want this one because it tells the story of our love. I’ll pay you what you would normally charge and we can hang it in the living room.”
Liz was touched by the offer. “You don’t need to pay me anything. You just told me what’s yours is mine. That works both ways. The painting can be a wedding gift to you.”
“Thank you,” he said kissing her. “I know how much time and effort you put into the painting. It’s the most meaningful gift anyone’s ever given me.”
He immediately took down a store bought painting hanging behind the living room sofa and replaced it with Liz’s work of art.
He stood back to admire it and slip his arm around Liz.
“It belongs here, just like you.”
After she and Carlos brought her art supplies into the guest room, where she planned to set aside a small area to paint, Liz called her sons. Tony was first.
“Hi Mom!” he said cheerfully. “I was just about to call you to find out if you and Carlos were in town yet.”
“Hello dear. We just got here a little while ago and traffic was heavy, so I’m glad to be off the road. How are you, Steph and Ashley?”
“We’re good and Ashley’s right here. She can see you on the phone and she’s reaching for it.”
“I hear her sweet voice,” the doting grandmother cooed. “And I’d love to say, hello.”
Tony handed Ashley the phone and Liz smiled as the child chattered happily.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” Liz said. “Give the phone to Daddy.”
“Hey Mom,” Tony continued. “Will you and Carlos come to dinner the day after tomorrow, to celebrate a belated Christmas with us? Stevie and Tiffany will be here. So will Jack. Steph found some things in their old homestead that she wants to give the guys. I’ll be making lasagna.”
“Thanks, we’d love to come.” Liz said in warm, maternal tones. “I can’t wait to see everyone and your new home as well. And your lasagna is the stuff of legends. Naturally we’ll be bringing Christmas gifts.”
“We have gifts for you and Carlos, Jack too,” the young man said.
“I’m looking forward to it, son. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Next, Liz called Stevie.
Although he gave her an affectionate greeting, Liz could detect an underlying tension. She knew why.
“Is your father there?”
“Yeah.”
“Gloria too?”
“Yup.”
“I guess your dad figured out that Carlos and I have arrived in St. Augustine.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m still annoyed about his hostile phone call.”
“I understand.”
“He’d better not do that again.”
“I think he’ll do the right thing,” Stevie said before changing the subject. “I um, guess you’re busy getting settled in.”
Sensing her son’s discomfort, Liz continued in a more casual tone. “I sure am. I’ve got a ton of stuff to sort through and I better get started because I won’t have time tomorrow. Carlos and I will be visiting his mother. After that, we need to pick up some groceries. All we have here are a few instant dinners, snacks and beer.”
“Sounds like a man’s world,” Stevie said in a lighthearted manner.
Liz chuckled. “It certainly is. But I missed you and Tiffany while I was in New York. I love you both and I can’t wait to see you at Tony’s dinner.”
“We love you too Mom,” the son replied.
Saying goodbye, Liz walked out onto the balcony. Despite the evening sun pouring onto the ocean like molten gold, Liz could not shake a creeping uneasiness, casting a shadow over her joy. She thought it might be because Carlos was talking about buying another motorcycle in the near future.
“Would you mind?” he’d asked.
“I would never stop you from doing what you want,” she answered. “But it would worry me. You’ve already been hurt. I wouldn’t want anything else to happen.”
Even though he tried to reassure her, Liz cringed at the thought of him speeding down the road on a motorcycle. She had seen the ugly scars his near fatal accident had left on the leg he almost lost. She had seen him wince in pain, when the northern cold made his bones ache. She had also watched him limping when he exerted himself, yet always refusing to use his cane. From time to time, he had to slip his arm around her and lean on her for support as they walked.
Liz also realized her uneasiness might be due to something or someone else. Even as she had spoken with her son on the phone, Liz felt Steve’s anger smoldering in the background.