Elise had been taking Spanish lessons for a month but she’d not seen Alejandro. Diego and his other men had been there as usual. They mowed and trimmed and pulled weeds with quick efficiency, then left in a couple of old trucks.
She didn’t dare ask Diego where his brother was. She didn’t want him to think she wanted something more than someone to talk to. Which she assured herself that she didn’t.
One Sunday at the joint family dinner, her mother said it was time for Elise to start taking responsibility in the community. She kept her groan to herself. To her mother that meant joining committees and trying to show interest in whatever the other members—all of them over sixty—had to say.
She hadn’t told anyone she was taking Spanish classes three mornings a week. She was sure her mother would complain that it wasn’t French.
Her teacher was a Mexican woman in her fifties, very nice, and she was constantly feeding Elise. “You are too thin!” Elise ate everything she was served but she didn’t put on weight. But then she never sat still long enough to let calories settle.
One day her teacher’s three young grandchildren were there. Elise took one look at them and forgot about the teacher. She spent two hours with the kids and they delighted in telling her that every word she said in Spanish was totally wrong. Elise learned more from them than from any formal lesson.
After that, her teacher made sure the children were always there. Elise made a great babysitter. She and the children cooked Mexican dishes, played Mexican games, and spoke only in Spanish. By the end of the month she wasn’t fluent in the language, but she was on her way.
It was when her teacher said her father was ill and she had to return to Mexico that Elise again began to feel the loneliness of her life. Kent was always gone, girlfriends all seemed to have busy lives, and her mother was pushing her into joining the dreaded committees.
Elise began to have dreams—both real and made-up—of a man on a horse who rescued her from—from everything. One morning she woke up startled. In her dream, it had been Alejandro on the horse.
She finally got up the courage to ask Diego where his brother was. She was told he was on “another job.” His tone was unmistakable. Alejandro was off-limits to her, a married woman.
That Sunday, Elise was standing by the door waiting for Kent to finish a call so they could walk to her parents’ house for the weekly dinner. Or, as she called it, the What’s Wrong with Elise? dinner.
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Kent said when he joined her.
“My mother wants me to join her committee about cleaning up the parks.”
“Sounds like a worthy cause.”
“It would be if we did some actual cleaning. But I’m to help some other women decide how to deal with the people who have been assigned by the court to do community service. Like any of us know how to do that.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Kent was looking at his watch.
“Need to be somewhere?”
“Don’t start on me! For once, let’s have a nice meal without you starting a fight. Maybe it would be good for you to join a committee or two. Do something instead of sitting around here all day and complaining.”
The unfairness of his accusations took her breath away. “I spend my life doing things for you.”
“And I spend mine doing things for you, so we’re even. Are you ready to go? Let’s get this over with. I have to—”
“Go back to the office,” Elise shot at him.
“You’re hopeless. You have everything any woman could want but you’re still not happy.” He walked out the door, leaving her behind.
Elise leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. He was right. She had everything in life but she was miserable. Her only happiness was when she was at Spanish class. The children, the home life, the laughter. Even the sadness of someone ill. It was life. And it made her happy.
She stood up straight, put her shoulders back, and went to the dinner. It was always a formal affair. Her mother had the Sunday dinners catered and served. She believed in what she called “polite conversation.” That meant that everyone was to agree with her. Disagreement of any sort was not allowed.
Usually, Elise made an effort to participate in whatever the others were talking about, but this time she was silent. She kept asking herself what she really and truly wanted to do. If she could wave a magic wand, what would she change?
She looked around the table at both sets of parents and her husband. Everything, she thought. I’d change it all.
“Elise!” her mother said sharply. “Would you be so kind as to join the adults in conversing?”
Elise looked across the table at her. “I was thinking about herbs and horses.”
Her father gave a chuckle. “Horses don’t eat herbs.”
“I think I should take riding lessons and I need an herb garden. Mrs. Beckett said she could tell that I’d used dried basil. She said she could taste the difference.” Pretentious little woman, Elise thought. She’d seen the jar on the counter and wanted them to think she was above such crass things. Elise was pleased that everyone was looking at her in surprise.
“Beckett Steel?” her father asked.
“Yes, that’s them. I thought I’d have the gardeners dig a hole or two in the back, just past the oak tree, so I could plant a few things.”
“A ‘hole’?” her mother said.
“Just so it’s deep enough for a pot or two. I don’t need much.”
Her mother shook her head. “Really, Elise, sometimes I think you were raised by the staff.”
I saw them more, she thought, but didn’t say.
“Tomorrow I’ll call Leonardo and he can design something for you,” her mother said.
Elise suppressed a grimace. She couldn’t stand the little man. He teased and flirted with the women until they were in giggles, so they hired him. She looked at Kent in wide-eyed innocence. “Isn’t he really expensive? I thought maybe I could sketch something, then have our gardeners do it.” Her father paid the gardeners but a professional designer would send the bill to Kent.
“I really don’t think—” her mother began.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Kent said, then looked at his father-in-law with pleading eyes.
We are children living in a dictatorship, Elise thought. We still have to ask our parents’ permission for everything we do.
“Yes,” her father said to his daughter. “That’s an excellent idea. Use some of that expensive education I paid for.”
“Edgar! Really,” her mother said. “Elise can’t possibly—”
Kent, who never contradicted his mother-in-law, spoke up. “I believe she can. Sweetheart, you go ahead and make your little garden. It’ll give you something to do all day.”
“And riding lessons?” Elise pressed.
“I see no reason for you to—” her mother began.
Kent’s mother, by far the quieter of the two women, said, “I took riding lessons until I went to college. I think it would be a lovely thing for you to do.”
She might be the quiet one, but she knew how to get her way. Elise smiled at her in gratitude. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Kent left right after the meal and Elise lost no time in getting started. She spent hours on the internet researching herb gardens.
By Monday morning, when Diego and his men arrived, she had a drawing she liked.
She met him as he was getting out of his truck and held out her sketch. It was a big circle, with an X of walkways, a birdbath in the middle.
“I need an herb garden,” she told him. “But I don’t know what to plant in it. My mother wants it to be beautiful and elegant and smell good.” That was a lie but she felt it was for a good cause. That she hadn’t considered where it might lead wasn’t something she wanted to think about.
Diego looked into her eyes so hard that she felt the blood rushing up her neck.
He seemed to reconcile himself that there was nothing he could do to stop this. He took out his cell and made a call. She knew enough Spanish to understand that he was warning his brother that if he so much as touched the little gringa, Alejandro would be sent back to Mexico. And further, Diego would marry him off to the girl who lived next door to their mother.
Elise had to turn away when she heard Alejandro’s cry for mercy.
Diego clicked off and told Elise that his brother would help her choose the plants she needed.
When Alejandro got there, for a moment they just stared at each other—and she knew he’d thought about her too.
“So how’s Tara?” she asked.
Alejandro’s face didn’t change. “Doing well. We’re getting married next week.”
Elise laughed. Tara had called and been quite angry because “that idiot gardener of yours” didn’t show up. “Sorry to take you away from your other job.”
“Diego had me putting in a hedge of Pyracantha—all those thorns—around some garbage cans. And he had me drive to New Jersey to pick up some bromeliads that they sell four miles from here. It was like he wanted me to stay away. I can’t think why.”
His innuendo made Elise frown. “I’m not really... I mean...”
“We’re to be friends.”
“Yes,” she said. “Amigos. How about if we speak Spanish while we do this?”
“All right. Except that if my brother gets too bossy I may have to speak to him in English curse words. They’re quite the best.”
“Are they?”
“Oh yes.”
“Then I’d be honored if you used my language.”
“Now where’s your plan and where do you want this garden put in?”
* * *
“You don’t have to do this,” Alejandro said.
They were digging the big circle for the garden they had marked out with string and stakes. Beside them in the shade, a garden hose nearby, were over a hundred plants they’d chosen. In the two weeks that they’d been together, their talk had gradually taken on a flirty intimacy. “It’s just my big brother showing me that he’s the boss.”
Elise jammed the shovel into the ground, and tossed the big clod into the wheelbarrow. “I’m enjoying this.”
He looked skeptical.
“Okay, so maybe not actually happy at having to dig a giant circle, but it gets me outside.” The sun was bright and she really hoped she didn’t sweat off her sunscreen. She knew she should change into pants and a long-sleeved shirt, but being near Alejandro made shorts and a tank top feel, well, right. And what was a little sunburn? She wouldn’t have to pay for the sun damage for another thirty years. Besides, Alejandro was, as always, bare from the waist up.
She looked across the widening space they were digging. Diego had declared that the whole herb bed had to be dug by hand—and he couldn’t spare any men. He’d meant to keep his little brother so busy that he wouldn’t have time to socialize with their employer’s wife. He hadn’t counted on Elise volunteering to help Alejandro dig.
“Tell me about your home,” she said.
“I did. There was a problem with—”
“I know that part,” she said quickly. “Randy older woman, beautiful young teacher. She couldn’t control herself. The end.”
Alejandro smiled as he dug deep. “Beautiful, huh?”
“So far, it seems to have caused you more problems than it’s helped.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he mumbled.
“Then tell me. Give me something to think about besides bashing your brother over the head with this shovel. Has he always been so stubborn?”
“Since he was born. He and our father used to have arguments that rocked the roof.”
Elise sighed. “I’d like to have the courage to stand up to my father.” She wiped sweat off her forehead and picked up her bottle of water. “Is that why Diego’s here in the US?”
Alejandro leaned on the shovel to watch in admiration as she drank half the bottle of water. When she finished, he went back to shoveling. “My father broke his leg.”
She could tell that he was about to start a story. “Tell me as much as possible in Spanish and please help me with the translation.”
He gave her a smile of such pleasure that Elise almost lost her balance.
They went back to digging while Alejandro started telling of his life in Mexico. When he was a child, his father broke his leg and couldn’t get to his bookkeeping job at a trucking firm. His parents were worried about how they were going to support the family. In frustration, his mother said that the only thing she knew how to do was cook.
“Is she any good?”
He rolled his eyes. “The best. Everyone said so. She pushed out a window in the kitchen and put up a sign that she was selling burritos. Everyone came running. A year later, Dad and Diego built a cover and set out four tables. The next year they rented a building with a covered terrace, and...” He shrugged.
“And you had a five-star restaurant.”
“A New York Times critic did stop by and he wrote a rather nice article.” He had to help Elise to understand all the words in that sentence.
“Wow! A New York Times restaurant review. Did you work there? Can you cook?”
“A bit. It was Diego and my brother Ricardo who got the most out of the place.” The way he was smiling made her want to know more.
“My mother hired a sixteen-year-old girl just out of school, then spent two years training her. She—”
“Let me guess. She became Diego’s wife.”
He grinned. “Right. Then my mother hired a second girl. Young, pretty, smart.” He looked at Elise.
“Your brother Ricardo took her?”
Alejandro laughed. “He did.”
“So that left you. What happened with the next girl? Or were you too young?”
“By then I was old enough, but my mother always said that I was going to university. No wife for me! To make sure I didn’t fall in love and take away her help, she hired a woman in her thirties who had two kids.”
When he stopped talking, Elise looked at him. “Are you blushing?” She drew in her breath. “You didn’t!”
Alejandro looked at her from under his lashes. “She taught me a lot.”
Elise leaned on her shovel and laughed. “Did your mother know?”
“I’m not sure. But one day I was yawning and she said, ‘At least you aren’t getting married!’”
“She knew.”
“Probably so.” He was smiling. “The next year I went to the University of Mexico.”
“And studied plants.”
“And English and literature and some other languages. All of it, according to Diego, useless.”
She suddenly realized that he hadn’t said a word about his sister. “What about Carmen? Did she fall in love with some gorgeous young man?”
“No.” He said the word in a way that showed he didn’t want to talk about that.
She lowered her voice. “Did she get into trouble and that’s why she’s now with you and Diego?”
Alejandro took a while before speaking, as though he was considering how to answer. “She just wanted to come to America. She’s like our father and good with numbers, so she does the bookkeeping for Diego.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but it seems like she’s changed. When we were teenagers, we were almost friends. I used to buy cinnamon gum and give it to Carmen because I knew she liked it. But one day she told me that she didn’t want any more of my charity. I apologized but I didn’t see it that way. I used to buy Kit Kats for my friend Lisa. It was just...” She shrugged.
Again, he took his time before speaking. “She...uh...she...”
When Elise’s phone rang, he looked like a weight had been lifted off him. “You’d better get that.”
“It’s not important. Did something awful happen to Carmen? Is that why she changed?” Her eyes widened. “An American didn’t do something bad to her, did he? Or she? Is that why Carmen suddenly seemed to think that I was an elitist and a—?”
“Your phone! It keeps ringing. Maybe something is wrong.”
Frowning, Elise wiped her hands on her middle and picked up her cell off the towel on the grass. “It’s my mother,” she said with a groan, then accepted the call. “Yes, I’m here.” She listened. “Now? This minute?” She let out her breath. “Yes. Of course I will.” Elise’s eyes brightened. “It so happens that one of the gardeners is here. No, I’m sure he won’t mind. Yes, I’ll tell him to take off his shoes.” Elise shook her head. “Mother! He won’t get dirt on anything. If I have to, I’ll make him strip naked and when he goes up the stairs, I’ll watch his every step to make sure he touches nothing.”
Alejandro coughed to cover his laugh and Elise held the phone away as her mother bawled her out.
She turned back to the phone. “Yes, I apologize for my rude, vulgar remark. It was insensitive of me. I will make sure the gardener is clothed and clean. And yes, I’ll be there in minutes.” She clicked off. “We have to go to the house.”
Alejandro looked down at his bare chest. “I need to get a shirt.”
“No!” She blinked. “I mean, you don’t have to get one. My parents are leaving to spend the weekend in the Hamptons with some friends. I have to go back to the house and gather roses for my mother to take with her.”
“And you have to cut them for her?”
“Mother doesn’t like the thorns.”
“When do I walk up the stairs?”
“After they leave, of course.”
Alejandro looked at her with one eyebrow raised.
“I’m not old enough for you so quit hoping. Mother wants you to move a chair to my house and she’s worried you’ll get dirt all over everything. Come on, I have to go now or she’ll make my life miserable.”
“I’m not sure your mother would like to see you and me together.”
“She won’t notice, and besides, you have to take the thorns off the roses.” He was frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I should get a shirt out of the truck.”
Elise narrowed her eyes. “If you want to cover up for them, does that mean you’re half-naked for me?”
“You think your bare legs are going to get burned?”
“Touché. We—” Her phone was ringing again. She looked at the ID. “It’s Mother. Race you there!”
Alejandro outran her but just as they reached Elise’s mother’s big rose garden, he faked a leg cramp and let her win.
Laughing, she went to the little shed on the far side and got out gloves, secateurs, and the wooden trough.
“Funny little basket,” Alejandro said.
“It’s an English trug.”
He said the word a couple of times. “So what do you want first? Damasks? Hybrids? Grandifloras?”
“Show-off. I want fat pink smelly ones.”
“Your mother has some nice bourbons.”
“My mother doesn’t know half what you do.”
“About roses or her daughter?”
“I’m not answering that,” she said. “Here! You hold the trug while I cut, then we’ll sit down over there and take the thorns off.”
As Alejandro followed her down the rows, he glanced back at the house. “Are you sure your parents won’t mind that I’m here? Your mother doesn’t like us getting too close to the house.”
Elise felt a pang of guilt at her mother’s callousness, at her snobbery toward most people.
It took them twenty minutes to cut the flowers and another twenty to remove the thorns. Elise stabbed herself twice and when Alejandro looked like he was about to kiss her hand, she glared at him.
“Can’t blame a man for trying.”
Between them was an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t step over the line. She was married and therefore off-limits. But their teasing of each other let them know they were wanted—and oh, how good that felt! To know that a man thought she was pretty and desirable made Elise stand up straighter and put her chin out. She chose her clothes more carefully, was concerned about her hair and makeup. That it was all for the wrong man was something she didn’t want to think about.
“I’d better take these to her,” Elise said. They were sitting side by side on a wooden bench in the shade, and she was reluctant to leave him. “You should go with me.”
Alejandro stretched his arms across the back of the bench. “Call me when you’re done so I can do some stair climbing.” Obviously, he didn’t want to face her mother.
Laughing, Elise went to the front of the house, where one of her parents’ staff, Edward, was loading the back of the big SUV. “Hi. They ready to go?”
Edward smiled at her. He’d worked there since she was a baby. “Your mother has changed her clothes about a dozen times. So who’s the naked guy you’ve glued yourself to?”
“Him? He’s Diego’s brother. I’ve told him over and over to put on some clothes but he won’t do it. I think the poor boy has very low intelligence.”
Edward grinned. “That’s why you were sweating in the sun beside him? I was shocked to see that you know how to use a shovel.”
“He’s my new gay friend and he showed me how.”
“Gay! That’s a good one. That boy’s eyes are eating you up.”
Elise got serious. “How much has Mother seen?”
“None. I told her Diego sprayed the grass with poison to kill the snails. She hasn’t stepped outside once. I don’t know if she fears the poison or the snails.”
“Thank you.”
Edward closed the van door. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Just trying to keep my sanity.”
“I think—” Edward began, but the front door opened.
Her mother looked her up and down. “What a disgusting outfit you have on. You look like a farmer. And is that sunburn on your nose? Really, Elise, you are an embarrassment to our family.”
Behind her, Edward rolled his eyes. He’d always been a strength to her in surviving her mother’s diatribes.
“Your roses.” Elise held out a deep basket full of them. “And we removed every thorn.” She drew in her breath at her slip. Would her mother ask who “we” was?
Her mother didn’t take the basket. “I think the least you could have done was put them in water. We have a long drive ahead of us. Oh no! I forgot my pearl earrings.” She went back into the house.
It was several minutes later before the car pulled away and Elise went back to Alejandro. He was still sitting on the bench. The sun had moved enough that a ray of sunshine touched his face. His eyes were closed, and she stood there looking at him. The black whiskers on his cheeks, his hair down the back of his neck. The color of his skin, the way his chest curved out, then was flat.
She knew the strength of him, the speed of his movements. Earlier, she’d stepped wrong and had nearly fallen. In one swift movement, Alejandro had dropped the shovel and caught both her arms before she fell.
But the instant she’d looked up at him, he’d released her. She understood. It was one thing to tease and flirt but another to actually touch.
“Are they gone?” he asked, but didn’t open his eyes.
He is as aware of me as I am of him, she thought. “They are. The staff took the afternoon off for a well-deserved rest. The house is empty.”
Alejandro stood. “If my brother hears that you and I were in a house alone he’ll send me home.”
“To marry the girl next door?”
“You heard that, did you? You go up, toss the chair down, and I’ll carry it away.”
“Come on, coward. What are you doing?” He’d unfastened the button at the top of his trousers.
“The stairs. I’m to be naked, remember?”
Laughing, Elise told him to keep his pants on and to follow her.
They went to a side door, not through the kitchen in case some of the staff were lingering. But she doubted that they stayed two minutes after her parents left.
The big house had that silent, eerie feel of being empty. They walked softly and didn’t speak. When they got to the big entry hall, Alejandro halted.
It was an impressive area, with a marble floor and big Chinese jugs perfectly placed. In the center was a round table that was suited to be in a museum.
“One time I kicked a soccer ball across this room. My mother was not pleased.” His expression showed his pity for her.
The stairs were wide, and curved, and carpeted in deep red. Elise went up first, then turned to face him and kept going up. “In case you ever need to know, you can sneak down these stairs in silence. And the freezer always has ice cream in it.”
“I’ll remember that.”
At the head of the stairs, she went past two closed doors, then opened the one on the left. Inside was a large room created for a little girl. There was a four-poster bed with a domed canopy. Behind the bed was a silk hanging embroidered with a tree. White cabinets had shelves full of books. A bulletin board had notes about homework due.
“It’s all pink,” he said.
“Peach. A much more subtle color, according to the designer.” She opened two big louvered doors to expose a wide, long closet packed full of clothes.
“These are all yours?”
“Every dress, shoe, necklace, and headband.” She put on a pink Alice band to demonstrate.
“I like your hair loose better. Or pulled back. Maybe with a rose.”
“Like a flamenco dancer?”
“Like a pretty girl who is happy with her life.”
“In that case, no roses for me.” She took off the headband. “Sit down while I look through things.”
There was a big round hassock in the corner and he sat on it, watching her as she opened and closed drawers and tossed things onto the floor near him.
“Why are your clothes here and not in your house?”
“Not enough room over there. And Kent’s suits—” She broke off. They never mentioned his name. It was as though they didn’t want to remember that he existed. Saying it aloud put reality into the day.
Alejandro picked up a blue-and-white dress. It had wide straps at the top and a gathered skirt. “This is pretty. You could dance in it.”
It took her a moment to bring her mind back to the present. “I wore that at a garden party my mother had. It has a jacket. Ah. Here it is.” She held up a short, dark blue bolero.
“Very nice. I like it. So how are you going to get all of this to your house?” She gave him a sweet smile. “I’m a man. I don’t carry dresses. At least not empty ones.”
“I’ll stuff them full of other clothes, then you’ll just have to carry one.”
He groaned. “Where’s the chair I’m supposed to take?”
“It’s—Ow.” She’d tripped over Alejandro’s feet as he sprawled on the hassock. He caught her arm, but instead of the usual flirtiness, he was looking around the big closet and frowning.
It was as though she could read his mind. “I don’t need all these things to be happy.”
“But it’s what you’re used to. It’s your world. It’s where you belong.”
He said this in Spanish and his deep voice made it beautiful. He was still holding her bare upper arm. Without thinking what she was doing, she put her hand on his warm chest and leaned forward. To kiss his lips was all she could think of.
He hesitated, but then he pushed her away and stood up. He seemed to be trying to act as though nothing had happened. “Are you sure you need all these clothes?”
The intimate moment was gone. Behind him, Elise closed her eyes. When she opened them, Alejandro was looking at her in the mirror over the dresser. For a flash of a second, she saw the longing in his eyes. The deep wanting of something that he knew he could never have.
Elise wanted to go to him but couldn’t. He was right. Her life; his life. They weren’t alike. They didn’t even run side by side.
“If we could meet on common ground,” she whispered, “as equals, we could—” Turning, he gave her a look that made her stop talking. They both knew it was no use.
If they began something they couldn’t finish, the pain they felt now was nothing to what it could be.
She gave a quick nod of understanding and stepped away from him. It took a deep breath to bring her back to the present. Away from what might be and back to what was. “How many shoes can you carry?”
He gave a slow smile, glad she understood. “One pair and that’s all.”
“I bet we could slide a dozen pair of sandals over your arms.”
“Like a horse harness?”
Elise’s gasped. “Horse! My riding lesson. I’ve got to go!”
He started toward the door.
“You forgot my clothes.”
“I thought you were in a hurry to leave.”
“Not so much that I’d forget my dresses. Hold out your arms and I’ll pack you.”
“A horse, a mule, a Christmas tree,” he muttered as she slid sandals over his forearms, and they smiled at each other.