Time seems to stand still as Ray and I remain frozen in our respective spots, and it feels like an eternity before a word passes between us. Knowing that he can offer no words of comfort to allay my fears of this house and Danny Santos, Ray says, "Well Michelle, why don't I help you with your bags and get you settled into your room? I need to get back to St. Michael's to prepare for tonight's mass, but I want to introduce you to my abuela before I leave."
I nod my head in the affirmative even as my mind screams 'NO' from it's very core. I follow passively behind Ray like a lamb being led to the slaughter as he quickly snakes his way through the house, back to the front door, and out to my car. Olga emerges from out of nowhere to help with the luggage and as she walks beside me, she picks up my right hand in her left and gives it a gentle squeeze. My eyes follow our joined hands up her chubby arm and settle on her round face. She turns to me with big, warm eyes full of understanding and I feel instantly comforted. I know that I have found a friend in her.
As Ray's hand comes down to grab the first of my two big bags, Olga slips a small piece of paper into his palm and whispers something into his ear. I give him a sideways glance as Olga and I fumble with several smaller bags and notice that he has already read the note and crumpled it into a wad. His face is unreadable as I watch him quickly walk to the far side of the three car garage and deposit it into one of the trash bins. The three of us manage to retrieve everything in a single trip and we begin making our way through the home to my living quarters.
I am bringing up the rear of the procession as I try to quickly take in my surroundings and get my bearings in this massive home. We pass a large swinging door that is painted the same shade of peach as the ceramic floor tiles in front of it, and I stand on the tips of my toes to peek through the small, square inset window. I briefly glimpse what must be a gourmet kitchen. There is an island in the center of the room surrounded by chopping blocks and stainless steel appliances, and an array of copper pots and pans hangs from the ceiling. Cooking and baking are passions of mine and it would be a dream to make my late night creations in a kitchen like this.
We round the corner and begin down a long, straight corridor. My suite is at the very end of the hallway. The breath catches in my throat and my eyes widen with wonder as I take in the loveliness that surrounds me. An overstuffed queen-sized canopy bed sits in the middle of the room and is surrounded on all sides by windows. The room is decorated in soft shades of teal and peach. There are fresh flowers arranged in two vases on either side of the fireplace mantle. There are two oak wood doors hung wide open, revealing a large walk-in closet and a dressing area/bathroom. I then notice that two of the windows on the opposite side of the fireplace are actually patio doors that lead to a deck. To the left of the deck there is a patio swing, and to the right there is another set of patio doors. Ray has followed me outside and when my gaze falls upon these doors, he explains, "You and abuela share the same deck. You don't mind, do you?"
"Mind?" I ask. "Are you kidding me?"
"Yes," he laughs, finding my bewilderment with the lavishness of my accommodations amusing.
"Good," I return, "You couldn't get me to leave if you tried. This is perfect." And that's almost true. Almost. I can't help but wonder how I will face one of Danny Santos' tirades alone once Ray returns to his own life.
Sensing my sudden change in mood, Ray offers, "Don't let Danny's gruff manner upset you. His beef is with me, I assure you. He is used to being in control of every situation and he is just angry that I have taken over managing abuela's medical needs. Like I said before, he works long hours and is rarely home. In fact, since the accident he has thrown himself into his work and Sancorp is thriving right now under his leadership."
Ray's soothing voice has a calming effect on my frazzled nerves and I feel the mountain of tension that was building, begin to ease. Beginning to relax, I let my shoulders slump forward as I say, "Maybe after I meet Mrs. Santos, I should apologize to Danny for our confrontation earlier. I didn't mean to insinuate that he wasn't concerned over your grandmother's condition."
Now it's Ray who seems tense as he shakes his head from side to side, saying, "That's really not necessary Michelle. All Danny needs is a chance to cool off. He'll be fine. Besides, he's not even here... I heard him driving off just before we went to get your bags."
Funny, I think... I didn't hear anything. I must have been in shock.
Ray continues, "He'll probably be back very late. Please believe me when I tell you to put what happened earlier out of your mind. There is no need for an apology."
I decide that it's best not to force the issue. I won't seek Danny out, but if I happen to run into him around the house, I'll try my best to explain myself.
"Well, would you like to meet abuela now?" he asks after a brief silence.
"I'd love it." I say enthusiastically.
Ray turns his attention to Olga and asks, "Is she awake?" before turning to me and explaining, "She takes a nap in the afternoons after lunch." I nod my head and we both face Olga, waiting for her response.
"Si. Ms. Maria is in her room, having her tea," Olga says while leading us to the room just beside mine. She knocks softly on the door and I hear a gentle voice on the other side say, "Come in."
Olga rushes in first and begins to fuss with an arrangement of flowers on an end table just beside the bed. After Ray whispers "Hello abuelita", he kneels before his grandmother's wheelchair, grasping her tiny hands between his and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. I stand just inside the door, nervously clasping my hands in front of me. As Ray stands, her eyes follow him and then drift to meet mine. I immediately notice the same kindness in their depths that I see behind Ray's. I feel comfortable under her intent gaze as she sizes me up, and I release the shaky breath that I had been unknowingly holding.
"Abuelita, this is Michelle Bauer, the young woman I told you about the other day. She is going to be staying here and helping you with the exercises they taught us at the hospital."
Her eyes never leave mine while Ray lists my qualifications, singing my praises. She nods her head when he is finished rambling and extends her hands to me, motioning me to come forward. I comply and Ray steps back a few paces, watching us interact. I kneel just as he had earlier and she places her hands on my cheeks. "Bonita," she whispers in my ear as she pulls me into a warm embrace. When I sit back on my heels, I look up at Ray and he is smiling down at me. Mrs. Santos continues to hold my face in her hands as she finishes, "Just like an angel." As she strokes my cheeks in a loving manner, I recognize the distinct fragrance of her hand lotion. Vanilla. I find myself transported back twelve years... to a time when my mother was still alive. She was partial to vanilla hand creams and as I sit here now, I can't recall a single memory of being with her when the scent didn't cling to the air. Tears escape from the corners of my eyes and as this slight, eighty-two year old woman wipes them away, I can't help but feel like I've come home.
"It is so good to finally meet you, Mrs. Santos. Ray has told me so much about you. I promise that I will do my best to get you up and walking again very quickly," I manage to say, surprising myself with the confidence I hear in my own voice.
Olga excuses herself to begin preparing tonight's dinner and Ray glances down at his watch. He seems apprehensive when he says, "I really must be getting back so that I can be prepared for tonight's mass, abuelita. Will you be all right?"
"Go Raymond. I have Michelle to keep me company now. You are leaving me in good hands." The sincerity in her voice is powerful and I turn to Ray, nodding my head in agreement.
Ray lays a gentle kiss upon her lips before turning to leave. I offer to walk him out to his car and he agrees, saying that there are a few final things that he needs to go over with me before he leaves. I tell Mrs. Santos that I will be back soon as I follow Ray out of the room.
He takes me down a corridor adjacent to our bedrooms and we enter a large exercise room lined with mats and surrounded by mirrors. One half of the room is equipped like any other home gym, but the other half is filled with various kinds of rehabilitative equipment. It is well furnished, complete with massage table, hot and cold packs, and ultrasound machines. "This is perfect," I assure him as he turns off the light and shuts the door, and we begin to walk in silence back towards the front of the house.
Once outside he turns to me, and I can tell by his expression that he is choosing his words carefully before he speaks. "I want you to make yourself at home here, Michelle. Please feel free to use the pool, jacuzzi, tennis court... anything. If you would like to invite a guest over, please do so... provided that it doesn't interfere with your work. Here is your house key, and you remember the security code for the front gate, right?" I nod as I accept the silver key from his outstretched hand and add it to my key chain. He pauses to watch my fumbling hands for a brief moment before continuing, "I have had your own private phone line installed in your room. The number is on the nightstand next to it. You can have your mail forwarded here, if you wish. We have already discussed your salary, so expect to receive your checks around the first of each month. Make a list of the foods you like and give it to Olga. She will see to it that the refrigerator and pantry are properly stocked."
I feel a little overwhelmed when he is through and I open my mouth, prepared to say something... what, I don't know... when he interrupts me. "The only request that I have is that you don't go up to the third floor for any reason. I'm afraid I must insist that that part of the house remain off limits. OK?"
I don't know what else to say except, "I understand." I don't really, and am a little more than intrigued by the mystery, but I stamp out the curiosity and force myself to drop the issue.
After shaking my hand and assuring me to call him if I need anything, I watch him get into his car and drive slowly away. When I can no longer see him, I slip into my own car and pull into one of the three vacant spots in the garage. Despite the run-in with Danny and Ray's cryptic words, my worries dissipate when a vision of Mrs. Santos' kind face pops into my mind. I think I may actually enjoy my time here.
I lock my car and start back toward the front door when something compels me to turn and walk in the opposite direction. I am a curious woman by nature... some say nosy. I just won't be able to sleep a wink tonight until I know what was on that slip of paper that Olga gave to Ray earlier. I round the corner and open the lid to the trash bin, quickly finding the crumpled and now, somewhat soggy note. I look all around like a bad child to make sure I'm alone before unfolding it. Scrawled in a very small, slanted handwriting, I read these words aloud, "Tell her to keep her ass off of the third floor. - Danny" I know I should feel uneasy, but I cannot suppress the giggle that escapes from my throat. I gingerly redeposit the note in it's former resting place and as I walk back inside the house, I can't help but mumble under my breath, "Danny Santos... you have the penmanship of a serial killer."
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