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Cirilda leaned forward. “I’m sure it works wonders for every man who wears it, but the ads should feature Santos.”
Libby held her breath and wondered if Santos had warned Cirilda to keep her mouth shut about Rafael’s prison record and Carmen’s assault. She couldn’t ask without the danger her mother might overhear. Santos reached for her hand and smiled. He’d grown up with his father’s shifting families and had undoubtedly become adept at guarding secrets. He didn’t know the doctor and his wife, though, but perhaps Rafael had requested their silence himself.
“Thank you, Santos,” Maggie said. “Everything is absolutely perfect down to the last detail. I couldn’t have managed this lovely dinner without you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure,” he replied.
Next came small crystal bowls of sweet, chilled melon balls, served to cleanse the pallet. They were followed with caviar on buttery toast. Libby had never cared for it but gave it a small taste while Perry and Connie appeared to love the salty roe.
The salad was a colorful combination of greens combined with artichoke hearts marinated in a vinaigrette dressing. “I love artichokes,” Libby murmured between bites.
“Would you care for more?” Santos asked.
“No, I’m sure the next course will bring something even more delicious.”
“Tomas is good, isn’t he?”
Santos was relaxed, perfectly at home, and Libby was grateful her mother had worked so hard to give her daughters fine manners so she could sip the savory clear soup without slurping. Her parents were carrying on an animated conversation with Rafael and Maggie about again visiting Spain. Alfonso, a pediatrician, had engaged Dr. Mendez in a conversation about medicine. Mendez mentioned a private practice rather than serving as a prison physician, so Rafael’s secret was safe for the moment.
With a variety of sherbets served between the courses, everything tasted especially good. The salmon on a bed of caramelized onions with a dill sauce and sliced avocado garnish was the best anyone had ever eaten. The filet mignon sliced thin on a bed of wild rice with a fan of green beans brought similar effusive compliments. The tart lemon ice and the delectable cheese and flavorful fruit signaled the close of the extravagant meal.
The musicians had played a lighthearted musical accompaniment throughout, and with every course, a new and increasingly expensive wine had been opened. Libby didn’t dare swallow more than a sip of each, while Cirilda and Alfonso had more than their share and giggled together as they proposed another toast to the newlyweds. The twins, Fox and Patricia were served only sparkling cider, just as they would have been in the Gunderson home. The Aragon family apparently had some standards, but everything was so far from Libby’s usual routine, she felt as though she were part
of a stage production and at any minute the director might stop the action and insist they begin again from act one, scene one.
More than three hours passed before Tomas rolled in the wedding cake on a linen-draped teacart. The three-tiered cake had clusters of beautifully formed roses with ruffles of ivory frosting, and the spectacular confection appeared so delicate it might float from the plate when cut. Rafael and Maggie left their seats to slice it, and Peter recorded the moment with his camera. Laughing, the newlyweds exchanged a tiny taste of the spice cake laced with ground pecans.
“I’ve never tasted a more delicious cake,” Linda exclaimed. “Thank you so much, Tomas. Everything was so good, the next time one of our daughters marries, you must come to Minneapolis to prepare another wedding feast.”
Rafael translated for her, and Tomas bowed slightly as though he might consider making such an unlikely trip. When the first slices of cake were eaten, several at the table asked for a second piece.
Champagne filled sparkling crystal flutes with dessert. Cirilda swiftly finished the last drop in hers. “Isn’t it a shame, Rafael, that they don’t serve food this delicious in prison?”
A shattering silence shot down the table, and Linda drew in a startled breath. “You’ve been in prison? Isn’t that something you should have told us, Maggie? Did you know, Peter?”
He had nowhere to hide and nodded. “Let’s talk about it later.”
“No, we’ll talk about it right now,” Linda demanded. “I asked the other night if there were anything more I should know. How can a prison record not qualify?”
Santos glared at Cirilda, and Libby thought she saw a glint of triumph in his aunt’s dark eyes. “This has been such a lovely evening, Mother,” Libby interjected. “Whatever troubles Rafael might have had in his youth are long over. Now let’s give the newlyweds our presents so they can leave on their honeymoon before dawn.”
“Yes, wonderful idea,” Peter declared. He helped his wife from her chair. “I’ll explain later, but the evening belongs to Maggie and Rafael.”
Linda searched the faces of her companions. “Why am I the only one here who doesn’t know the full story?”
Unable to remain quiet, Rafael circled the table, put his arm around his new mother-in-law’s shoulders and spoke in a comforting tone to lure her from the room, “Come with me, Mrs. Gunderson, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Santos waited to speak with his aunt until he heard the den door close. “You did that on purpose, and it was a mean, spiteful thing to do. You’re out of your mind if you marry her again, Alfonso, because she’ll treat you no better than she did the first time.”
Alfonso lurched from his chair. “I never allowed your father to show me such disrespect, and you’re not half the man he was.”
“You’re wrong,” Maggie cried. “Santos is the better man in every way. Now you two have had too much to drink. Please go upstairs and spend the night in Cirilda’s room.”
For a moment, Alfonso looked lost. When he took Cirilda’s hand and started toward the front of the house, Dr. Mendez immediately rose. “Dr. Rivera, you mustn’t drive. Give me your car keys, or I’ll be forced to take them.”
Alfonso bumped into the wall. “I can find my way home.”
Santos struggled to rise and grabbed his crutches. “Dr. Mendez, I’ll handle this.”
