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“Oaxaca,” she said.
I expected Hector to have grown up in Mexico City for some reason. “And do you like it there? I’ve never been,” I said.
“Oh, it’s beautiful. Beautiful people and beautiful food. Whenever you want, you have a home there,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have any suggestions on things to do while I’m here?” she asked.
“Let’s see . . . if you are interested in art, I suggest the Nelson-Atkins Museum.You wouldn’t think it of Kansas City, but we have a rather spectacular collection, including a Caravaggio.”I didn’t know where I pulled that suggestion from. I’d only been to the museum once and only knew about the Caravaggioin the collection because Mandy wouldn’t shut up about it.I guess I was trying to impress her.
“I was thinking something more . . .casual?” she suggested.
That took me aback. I had always assumed Hector came from money. I expected his mother to be cultured and want to see the more elegant aspects of the city. I certainly didn’t expect her to ask forcasualideas.
“Um—well, not far from that museum is a beautiful rose garden,” I said, hoping she would be satisfied with that answer.
“I love roses,” she said with a sparkle to her eye. “Maybe Hector can take me there tomorrow.” She looked at her son expectantly.
“Of course, Mom. Whatever you like.”
We had a pleasant and superficial conversation the rest of our lunch until Hector had to take a call from one of his residents about a patient. He stepped outside for privacy, leaving me alone with his mother. I didn’t feel as uncomfortable as I thought I would.
“Okay, now that we have a minute alone, I’d like to talk with you about Hector,” Marisela said, peering out the window to confirm that Hector wasn’t yet coming back from his call.
“I’m not sure—”
“I like the way he looks at you,” she said.
“What?”
“He hasn’t smiled like this in years,” she said. “I’d like to thank you for that.”
“Oh. Please don’t get the wrong impression—”
“Don’t worry.” She cut me off. “I know you aren’t together. But when you haven’t seen your son happy for many long years, believe me, you will grasp at anything that brightens his life.”
Hadn’t been happy for years? What was she talking about?
“You don’t know anything about the state of his marriage, do you?” Her eyes narrowed.
I only shook my head. She turned once again to peek out the window, then returned her attention to me. “Hector is too stubborn to let go of the past. I’m sure he hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, a great many things. For example, I don’t think he has told you he has been separated from his wife for a couple of years now.”
My hands got clammy, and I wiped them on my jeans, grasping at the cool fabric. I wasn’t sure Hector would want me to know these profoundly personal details.
Why was Marisela telling me all this? The thought of Hector being available sent my head spinning, but separated or not, he was still married. To me, there wasn’t much difference between being separated and being married. Nothing could come from Marisela’s revelation.
“I can tell by your reaction that I was right. He hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“Marisela, I don’t know if he’d want me to know—”
“Iwant you to know,” she said. “Andrea is a good woman. She knows about you.”
“What?” Blood pounded in my ears. How in the hell did hiswifeknow about me? If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have lost my balance at Marisela’s words. Suddenly, I was joining Marisela in her paranoid checks for Hector outside.
