CHAPTER 1
On that radiant Florida morning in early June, Liz Bertelli-Martin woke to sunlight sifting through lace curtains on her bedroom window overlooking the ocean.
Rising and stretching, she walked to the window for a peek at the sky. Clear, cloudless blue, the vista seemed like a seamless continuum of ocean and endless space.
Liz lingered, her artist’s eye studying the color for its sunlit hue—so much like her happy new life.
She had snuggled back under the covers by the time her husband Carlos, came in with a tray of food. As always, he had risen early to walk their dog, King, feed Pickles the cat and then settle down to work in his home office.
He walked to her bedside, bending to kiss Liz's waiting lips and caress her abdomen, starting to swell with the union of their love.
“Good morning, beautiful. I saw you stirring earlier, so I took a break from work to make breakfast.”
Liz gazed up into the handsome Latin face with its striking green eyes, crowned by a thick crop of dark hair and matching beard. Liz smoothed back her curly, chocolate-brown hair. She and Carlos had been married almost four months and it still felt like a storybook dream that she was with him in St. Augustine Beach, living in a lavish, oceanfront condominium. His thoughtful gestures warmed her heart.
A contented smile on her face, she breathed-in the nourishing fragrances. “You made an omelette with sausage and bell pepper, didn't you? It smells so good.”
“One of your favorites,” he replied, proudly displaying his culinary creation.
She had mentioned this preference only once, but Carlos had listened and made the effort to please her, making her feel valued.
In addition to the omelette, there was grits, topped with melting butter, as well as toast, orange juice, coffee and Liz's prenatal vitamin, prescribed by her doctor. All were served on a silver platter, complete with a white rosebud in a slender vase. Carlos arranged the tray in front of her.
“What about you sweetie?” she asked. “Have you eaten?”
“Mine is waiting in the kitchen,” he said, returning with it and settling on the bed beside her.
Liz moved a tasty morsel around her mouth. “Delicious! I'm glad I can finally eat without getting sick.”
The couple ate and chatted until Liz froze in mid-bite. She took Carlos' hand and placed it on her abdomen. For the first time, both felt a form stirring.
“That's our baby,” Liz whispered in awe. “Can you feel him?”
A look of wonder spread over Carlos' face. “I can!”
Liz rested her head on his shoulder and both sat amazed at this miracle of life.
Carlos snuggled closer. “Every day, I thank God for you and for the privilege of becoming a father.”
“I couldn't be happier,” she responded with a joyous tear. “Ever since I gave birth to my twins in my early teens, I wanted more children. But I couldn't get pregnant. Who would think that after the boys were grown, it would finally happen? A specialist treated me for endometriosis and other problems. When I didn't conceive after several years, he said it's unlikely I ever would.”
Liz sighed. “It's hard to believe a doctor with degrees hanging all over his wall, could be so wrong.”
She wondered if the stress of her first marriage was a factor.
Steve was a liar and a cheat. We fought often and intimacy was more of a chore than a pleasure.
Things were certainly different with Carlos. After nearly 20 years of failure with Steve, she and Carlos had conceived on their honeymoon.
Following the couple's leisurely breakfast, Carlos leaned over Liz's swelling stomach and spoke to the baby, as he had done since the pregnancy was discovered. Sometimes he sang as well. The songs varied. They might be children's jingles, or songs the couple enjoyed. Other times they would be worship choruses and hymns that Carlos sang when assisting with the liturgy at his church. Liz often went with him, as did Liz's best friend, Rosa. Carlos' brother, Jack (Rosa's fiancé) joined them when he had time off work.
Carlos would sing and talk to the baby in the various languages he had employed while working as a translator and interpreter at the White House. He now put his language skills to use translating, editing and writing documents from his home office. This included unclassified documents from the Executive Branch.
“I want our child to know how much he is loved by God and us. I also want him to speak different languages,” he said after singing a lighthearted children's tune.
The couple referred to their child in the masculine because Liz insisted it was so.
“We're having a boy and he'll be named after his father and grandfather, Carlos Manuel Martin.”
He told her he would love a little girl just the same.
“I know you would, sweetie. I can see how much you love our precious granddaughter, Ashley. You're showing her how important she is by teaching her Spanish.”
Even though Ashley was biologically Liz's grandchild from her son, Tony and his wife, Steph, Carlos treated Ashley like his own, as he did her three-month-old brother, Tony Jr.
It was all Liz's ex-husband, Steve, could do to keep quiet about the matter, especially when the child would “show off” her Spanish, which he could not understand.
“She talks like a native speaker,” Carlos would crow. “She's brilliant.”
Each day, it seemed her vocabulary would grow.
After the breakfast dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, Liz spoke on the phone with her sons, as she did almost daily. With Tony living in St. Augustine, where he and Steph had recently opened the Casa Martín Bed and Breakfast, and her other son, Stevie (a promising young attorney) and his wife Tiffany, living in Daytona Beach, everyone Liz loved was nearby. The close-knit family visited often and on occasion, Liz and Carlos would attend services at the Daytona Beach church, where Tiffany's father was pastor.
Like Liz, Rosa had moved from New York. Having her confidante close by, completed Liz's happiness. When she told Carlos, he winked.
“Jack enjoys her closeness even more.”
For the most part, Rosa stayed in a spare bedroom at the Casa Martín, where her help with cooking and the business, was proving invaluable. In appreciation, she and Jack had been offered complimentary use of the facilities for their wedding and reception.
The Queen Anne Victorian (Carlos and Jack's childhood home) was quickly becoming a popular destination, known for southern hospitality, luxurious but comfortable furnishings and sumptuous breakfasts. A couple of nights each week, an ethnic-themed dinner would be served. Word was spreading about Rosa's Latin American cuisine and Tony's Italian delights.
“We barely opened our doors and already we have seven guests,” an excited Tony told his mom. “We’re actually making money.”
Finishing breakfast, Liz again paused at the window to revel in the beauty of the sky. It was what Liz liked best about Florida. She he had often told Carlos how much the sky held her in awe and inspired her artistic abilities.
But on the horizon, Liz spotted a solitary black cloud. It seemed to mar the blue vista and Liz wanted to erase it, as she would a smudge on her canvas. She turned away, then looked warily back. The cloud appeared closer, larger and almost personal, like trouble rumbling her way.
It’s small, but that’s how problems start.
Liz fixated on the cloud, but forced her gaze away, scolding herself for letting a cloud overwhelm her focus.
I just have pregnancy brain. Life is perfect. I’ve never been happier. Nothing can change that.
Liz redirected her attention across the courtyard to the building where Jack lived.
Liz smiled to herself. I wouldn't be surprised if Rosa is there with him.
When Carlos walked by, kissing Liz's cheek, she leaned into it. What cloud could possibly invade her idyllic life?
Liz was right about Rosa. She and Jack had spent some time working on personal words to be included in their wedding vows. Still, Rosa could never finish her vows to her liking. Now they were sitting down for one more cup of coffee and a serious conversation. Jack petted Rosa's dachshunds, Hans and Heidi, their tails wagging as they whined for a morsel of food.
Warm with love but concerned, Jack’s eyes met Rosa’s.
“I don't like keeping secrets from my brother, especially such an important one.”
“You mean about Patty's daughter, Zoe, possibly being his?”
Jack nodded.
“I don't like keeping secrets from Liz either and I've almost told her a couple of times. But maybe I'm mistaken about Zoe's resemblance to Carlos.”
“Since you mentioned it, I see a likeness,” Jack replied. “But as I've said, it could be because Zoe has Cuban blood, like Carlos and me. Some people just happen to look alike. It's pure coincidence.”
Rosa was not convinced. “I see the resemblance in her profile. The next time you see her take a closer look.”
Jack nodded. “I will and if we find out she is Carlos' after all, I'll be amazed that this was right under our noses all these years and no one noticed. At least for now, let's keep this to ourselves. It probably doesn't mean anything. Liz and Carlos are so happy with the baby coming. I don't want to throw a monkey wrench into that.”
“If it's true, why wouldn't Patty have told him?” Rosa asked. “He seems oblivious.”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “It could be because Carlos was traveling all over the world with the presidential entourage and he had girlfriends wherever he went. He told me the pay was great, but the fringe benefits were even better. I hate to say it, but he wasn't exactly father material. Patty was separated from her husband, Tim, when Carlos moved in with her. But after Carlos took off for parts unknown, Tim and Patty got back together for a while. We always assumed he was Zoe's father and he probably is. Tim's a great guy and one of our childhood friends, just like Patty. They were part of our high school crowd.”
“I've heard a lot about that circle of friends,” Rosa said with a wink.
She looked up from her coffee, her attractive smile framed with dimples. “I hear Carlos might be traveling with the White House staff again.”
“That's right. He's just waiting for the details to be ironed out,” Jack said.
That would start to happen later in the day. Carlos had just gotten off the phone and eagerly rushed to Liz from his home office.
“I just spoke with Charlene, a former co-worker from the White House. I was asked to join the old team for some official business in Paris. We used to go there every so often and I lived there nearly a year. There will likely be other trips in the future, maybe to South America.”
About to leave for Raphael's Gallery, where she exhibited her artwork and painted, Liz threw her arms around Carlos' neck.
“What an honor! I'm proud and happy for you.”
Carlos was hesitant. “Especially now that we're expecting, do you mind me traveling?”
“Not at all,” an upbeat Liz replied. “You've always supported me with my art, hanging it in the condo and letting me claim a space to paint. I'll always support you in your career.”
She looked deeply at him. “Don't have such a worried face. Rosa and Jack are right here if I need anything and my sons are too.”
So is Steve, Carlos thought, recalling the violent fight they had over Liz a few months back. Steve had initiated it by attacking Carlos. Although legal finagling had kept Steve out of jail, he was charged with assault and battery and sentenced to probation.
Carlos was still mistrustful.He'd better not come near Liz.
Book available from MillerWords
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Books 1 & 2, available from MIllerWords Book 1: Love's Sweetest Revenge: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_WKI3EbXY53
Book 2: Love's Sweetest Deliverance: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07BBFRHJT?
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