husband's, Ernesto's, eighty-fourth birthday. Bring everyone, she had said. Irene had taken Señora de Pedrosa at her word. She had phoned relatives all over the state. Six of them had promised to fly or drive down for the event, which Irene was starting to refer to as an engagement party.
"Flowers," Gail said. "That would be good, but put them in a nice vase. A very nice vase. Maybe Baccarat crystal."
"What? Oh, my. No, that's too extravagant. They'd think we were showing off."
"This is upper-crust Cuban society, Mom. They'll love it."
"If you say so."
"They will. Take a look at the clothes and the jewelry at the party."
Irene swept her eyes over what Gail was wearing: sneakers and jeans and a Miami Hurricanes sweatshirt.
"I know, I know," Gail said. "Anthony's the peacock, not me."
They continued toward the arrival gates with their drinks. "You know, darling, you and Anthony shouldn't leave things to the last minute."
"Things?"
"Wedding plans. You don't even have an engagement ring."
"We haven't had time to look."
"No time to look for a house, either?"
"We've seen a few, but nothing we liked. Mom, it's six months away."
"How do you know, if you haven't set a date?" Irene poked her straw farther down in the cup and took another sip. "Is everything all right?"
"Of course."
"You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
"It's wonderful. We're crazy about each other. Anthony refuses to move into a house that I once lived in with a former husband, and I agree." Gail added, "We're giving Karen time to adjust. She doesn't like change. It could be a disaster if we got married right away, moved into a new house in a strange neighborhood, and expected Karen to go along quietly. We'll wait till her school is out for the summer."
Irene nodded. "She seems to like him well enough."
"She does. And he likes her."
Gail stopped to study the monitors for Concourse E. "I don't see the flight from San JuanâOh, wait. There it is. Expected on time." She gazed down the long corridor, which was blocked by X-ray machines and security personnel. Departing passengers were lined up at the metal detectors, and arrivals hurried toward baggage claim.
"Don't worry," Irene said. "She'll be with an escort. We won't miss her. Look what I foundâa new Beanie Baby." She held up a green and orange lizard with splayed toes and shiny black eyes. "Isn't he cute?"
"Perfect. God know what she's going to try to sneak home in her suitcase. A boa constrictor. I can't wait to see her."
"I miss her, too." Irene tucked the toy into her pocket. "What do we do if somebody mentions Tom Nolan at the party next weekend?"
"They won't. The Pedrosas are too well-mannered to bring it up. Besides, Anthony and his grandfather have learned to avoid hot topics. That may be the only Cuban house in Miami where politics is not discussedâat least when Anthony walks through the door." Gail finished her soda. "Speaking of Tom Nolan, what do you think Rebecca wants to do about him? She says one thing, then another. She's president of the board. She'll have to make up her mind."
"What she wants," Irene said, "is to survive. She'll do whatever is best for the opera, but there are so many egos to stroke. Not everyone is happy with her. Try to help her if you can."
Gail hesitated before asking the next one. "Is she having an affair with Seth Greer?" There was no immediate gasp of shock from her mother, only the wide blue eyes quietly demanding to know where that information had come from. Gail shrugged. "I saw the way he looked at her at the meeting."
"I've heard talk," Irene said in a low voice, "but it seems so unlikely. If her husband knewâ!"
"How did Lloyd and Rebecca meet?"
"At the Biscayne Bay Yacht Club, I think. Lloyd is quite a sailor. There was a party after the Columbus Day Regatta ten years ago, and Lloyd took one look at Rebecca and told her, you're the one I want. He wasn't rich then, not like now. Rebecca was already married to an older man named
"Flowers," Gail said. "That would be good, but put them in a nice vase. A very nice vase. Maybe Baccarat crystal."
"What? Oh, my. No, that's too extravagant. They'd think we were showing off."
"This is upper-crust Cuban society, Mom. They'll love it."
"If you say so."
"They will. Take a look at the clothes and the jewelry at the party."
Irene swept her eyes over what Gail was wearing: sneakers and jeans and a Miami Hurricanes sweatshirt.
"I know, I know," Gail said. "Anthony's the peacock, not me."
They continued toward the arrival gates with their drinks. "You know, darling, you and Anthony shouldn't leave things to the last minute."
"Things?"
"Wedding plans. You don't even have an engagement ring."
"We haven't had time to look."
"No time to look for a house, either?"
"We've seen a few, but nothing we liked. Mom, it's six months away."
"How do you know, if you haven't set a date?" Irene poked her straw farther down in the cup and took another sip. "Is everything all right?"
"Of course."
"You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
"It's wonderful. We're crazy about each other. Anthony refuses to move into a house that I once lived in with a former husband, and I agree." Gail added, "We're giving Karen time to adjust. She doesn't like change. It could be a disaster if we got married right away, moved into a new house in a strange neighborhood, and expected Karen to go along quietly. We'll wait till her school is out for the summer."
Irene nodded. "She seems to like him well enough."
"She does. And he likes her."
Gail stopped to study the monitors for Concourse E. "I don't see the flight from San JuanâOh, wait. There it is. Expected on time." She gazed down the long corridor, which was blocked by X-ray machines and security personnel. Departing passengers were lined up at the metal detectors, and arrivals hurried toward baggage claim.
"Don't worry," Irene said. "She'll be with an escort. We won't miss her. Look what I foundâa new Beanie Baby." She held up a green and orange lizard with splayed toes and shiny black eyes. "Isn't he cute?"
"Perfect. God know what she's going to try to sneak home in her suitcase. A boa constrictor. I can't wait to see her."
"I miss her, too." Irene tucked the toy into her pocket. "What do we do if somebody mentions Tom Nolan at the party next weekend?"
"They won't. The Pedrosas are too well-mannered to bring it up. Besides, Anthony and his grandfather have learned to avoid hot topics. That may be the only Cuban house in Miami where politics is not discussedâat least when Anthony walks through the door." Gail finished her soda. "Speaking of Tom Nolan, what do you think Rebecca wants to do about him? She says one thing, then another. She's president of the board. She'll have to make up her mind."
"What she wants," Irene said, "is to survive. She'll do whatever is best for the opera, but there are so many egos to stroke. Not everyone is happy with her. Try to help her if you can."
Gail hesitated before asking the next one. "Is she having an affair with Seth Greer?" There was no immediate gasp of shock from her mother, only the wide blue eyes quietly demanding to know where that information had come from. Gail shrugged. "I saw the way he looked at her at the meeting."
"I've heard talk," Irene said in a low voice, "but it seems so unlikely. If her husband knewâ!"
"How did Lloyd and Rebecca meet?"
"At the Biscayne Bay Yacht Club, I think. Lloyd is quite a sailor. There was a party after the Columbus Day Regatta ten years ago, and Lloyd took one look at Rebecca and told her, you're the one I want. He wasn't rich then, not like now. Rebecca was already married to an older man named
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