Part 21 (1/2)
”Ah, young love,” a baritone croons to my left, and I see the tall, robust man who lit Aunt Beatrice's cigarette standing next to us. He beams at us, turns back to his partner, who I realize is Aunt Beatrice, and whispers something in her ear.
She tilts her head toward his, one bejeweled hand reaching up to caress his face, her mouth budding into a tiny smile. Uncle Roberto, I think suddenly. I arch on my toes. Beatrice's husband, I mouth to Gabriel. As we watch, Uncle Roberto reaches into his gray vest pocket and pulls out a s.h.i.+ning gold pocket watch. The chain dangling from the watch gleams briefly. Gabriel's hand tightens on mine.
All of a sudden, I think back to that first night that Gabriel came home when we stood in the living room with Aunt Beatrice. She hasn't lost anything that I can find. I tried earlier. It was something about a pocket watch. ”Very well, my dear,” the man says, ”but I must tell the cooks to hold off for another fifteen minutes, then. They will doubtlessly be unhappy with me” He kisses her hand.
”Of course, I'll take a thousand of their frowns for one smile of yours” As he moves off the floor, Aunt Beatrice touches three fingers to her lips and blows a kiss to the man's retreating figure before she sways through the crowd in the opposite direction.
”Do you think that's-”
”One way to find out,” Gabriel says, and we follow Uncle Roberto.
TWENTY-ONE.
”EXCUSE ME, sir,” Gabriel calls to Uncle Roberto as he reaches the relatively deserted gravel path leading to the kitchen. Uncle Roberto turns, smiles beatifically upon us.
”Ah, young people. Are you enjoying yourselves this evening?”
”Oh, yes” I nod feverishly.
”You and Aunt Beatrice always throw the best parties” This may be putting it on a little too thick, but as we step closer to Uncle Roberto, I realize with relief that he is more than a little drunk. His face has a moist all-over sheen to it and his eyes are benevolently gla.s.sy.
”So you're a relative of Beatrice's, then. I certainly would remember if you were related to me,” he adds with a chuckle and a wink at Gabriel that's obviously meant to convey something in male language. I jab Gabriel in the side and he belts out a late laugh.
”Sir, we were wondering if we could see-” I start when Gabriel cuts me off. ”We were wondering if you'd like to see a card trick that you won't believe” From seemingly out of nowhere, a deck of cards has appeared in Gabriel's hand. I stare at him. This was not what we had planned. Truthfully, we hadn't planned much. We were just going to ask Uncle Roberto about his watch and hope that something vaguely providential occurred. Apparently, Gabriel hadn't thought much of this plan.
”Oh, now” Uncle Roberto gives us another gentle chuckle accompanied by a shake of his head.
”I'm afraid the guests will be wondering when their supper is going to arrive and I must speak with the cooks. But my wife is fond of card tricks. Perhaps you should-”
”We did try it on several of your guests already. And Aunt Beatrice,” Gabriel says smoothly. Then a note of pride enters his voice.
”None of them, including your wife, could get it. But she said that you might. She said that no one can get a card trick past you.” Inwardly I groan. This is definitely laying it on too thick. Uncle Roberto is eyeing us with what I am sure is suspicion.
”How did you say you're related to my wife, again?” he asks softly. My mouth goes dry, but Gabriel says with a careless laugh, ”Oh, you know how this family works. People coming out of the woodwork all the time. Especially at parties. My father, may he rest in peace, was like you”
And here hegives a subtle weight to the word you.
”He was a great friend of Uncle Charles's, too. *So many cousins' was their little joke between them” Gabriel riffles the deck with a casually confiding air. With his eyes on the cascade of cards, he adds, ”It's anyone's guess how you guys really manage to put up with this family.
”Uncle Roberto gives a bellow of a laugh that nearly jolts me out of my skin.
”That's for d.a.m.n sure. Your father, he was ...”
”A self-made man,” Gabriel fills in.
”G.o.d rest his soul.”
”Eh, now” Uncle Roberto steps closer.
”I didn't know you folks believed in G.o.d. I mean, Beatrice's explained it all to me.
How you practice white magic, so to speak.” I swallow my smile to hear it broken down in these terms. My grandmother and mother would have howled with laughter.
”Well, my father had a few things to say about that when it came time for my first Communion,” Gabriel says, altar-boy earnest now. I try not to stare at him.
Religious devotion does not figure into what little I remember about Gabriel's father, Uncle Phil. Unless he was a member of the Church of Boring Sports. In that case, I do remember a lot of G.o.dd.a.m.ns and thank you, Jesuses being shouted at the football and baseball games that flickered in and out of reception on the rickety television set my mother had placed in a small side room. That was where you couldalways find Uncle Phil ensconced-if you wanted to do such a thing. Most of us didn't.
”Good man,” Uncle Roberto grunts.
”I might have a few things to say about that, too, if Beatrice and I ever ... well. .
. that's not talk for a party, now is it?” Then he shakes away whatever he was thinking, steps forward, and claps a hand on Gabriel's shoulder.
”Let's see this trick. But this is a real trick, right? None of your . .”
He swallows and I suddenly feel a pang of sympathy for Uncle Roberto.
Apparently, there is some truth to what Gabriel said about not knowing how he tolerates the family.
”None of it at all. Not my Talent, anyway,” Gabriel says, honest at last, and the cards snap in his hands and suddenly the movement of his fingers is too fast to follow. After a few seconds of complicated shuffling and rearranging, he fans the cards and holds them out to Uncle Roberto.
”First pick one card, any card” Uncle Roberto does so and holds it in his hands expectantly.
”And you can look at it, but please do not show it to me or my a.s.sistant.” Uncle Roberto nods, his face going carefully blank as he takes a quick peek at the card.
”Now place it in your left pocket,” Gabriel instructs.
”Good, excellent. Now pick another, whichever one you'd like. And look at it, please, but again don't show it to anyone ... Perfect. Now hand it to my a.s.sistant face-down so I can't see it. Perfect. She's going to place it in your right vest pocket” I step forward, my heart suddenly thwacking my rib cage. Hoping thatUncle Roberto won't notice that my fingers are trembling, I reach for the second card. The slick plastic feels cool to my fingers, and as I step closer to Uncle Roberto, I can smell the sweet perfume of alcohol and after-shave coming off him.
”Sorry, sir,” I mumble as my fingers slip against his chest.
”You did this trick on ladies, too?” Uncle Roberto says with another bellow of laughter.
”That's why I have my lovely a.s.sistant. So no one can complain,” Gabriel says, his voice magnanimous and light, betraying no hint of the nerves I know he must be feeling.
”Okay, Ta-er, Agatha. Place the card in his front right pocket now. Now,”
Gabriel coaxes me, and suddenly, just as I realize that he has nowhere to go with this trick, Uncle Roberto takes the card from me and places it in his own pocket, smiling kindly at me.
”I think your a.s.sistant needs a little practice,” he says gently and then turns with an expectant look on his face.
”And now what, my young man?”
”And now . .”
Gabriel says and pauses for what must seem like a dramatic flourish, but really I know it's his way of buying time.