The temptation is too great. Daniel slides his finger under the flap. He gently loosens the remaining adhesive and removes the telegram. The Western Union form is the color of onions. The cabled message is printed on thin white tape affixed to the form.
WESTERN UNION TELEGRAM
—VIA CABLE
SENDER: BUD MATHESON—DALLAS, TX
MR. AND MRS. MARTIN MATHESON—CASTELLANA HILTON, MADRID
PRIEST SHARED NEWS. HAVE YOU TOLD DANIEL? WORRIED WILL BE HARD ON HIM. WILL PREPARE THE HOME STAFF FOR CHANGE.
Daniel stares at the message from his uncle. His father’s brother is a pragmatic man, who rarely expresses emotion or concern. His worry ignites fear in Daniel, bringing back the questions—the edge in his mother’s voice, her emphatic desire to come to Spain, his father’s mention of a “tough time.” Has he gotten it all wrong?
Could his parents be separating?
62
Daniel makes his way back to Miguel’s shop. His feet move but feel detached from his body. He spent hours staring at the telegram and the plate of olives. With no one to talk to, he came up with theories of his own.
His parents’ strange behavior suddenly makes sense. The fight with the two men in the alley had no consequence with either of them. They were too concerned with their own problems to reprimand him. Shortly before their trip to Madrid, he heard his parents arguing in their bedroom. His mother was crying. Why didn’t he pay attention? His mother’s gift of the camera and her support of his photography frustrate his father. Did that cause their “tough time” and is he to blame?
He thinks of all that could change. Will his mother move back to Spain? Is that why his father mentioned the importance of his happiness in Madrid? The timing with his recent graduation can’t be coincidental. Have they been waiting until he leaves for college to separate? Will he be forced to choose who he spends time with?
Daniel knows of only one divorced family in Dallas. Considered pariahs, they were removed from the Social Register. Divorce is not an option for Catholic couples. Instead, his parents will remain married but live apart. Several couples in Dallas reside in different residences. The husband lives in the summer home and the wife lives in the Preston Hollow estate. They are seen together at social events and remain on the Register. On the outside, all remains intact. But everyone knows the truth: Behind closed doors, life lies in pieces. And that’s how his head feels.
“Texano!” Miguel bellows as Daniel enters the shop. “I think you will be very pleased. Your photographs are excelentes!”
The compliment should fill him with joy, but barely registers. “That’s great. And thanks again for developing them so quickly.” Daniel retrieves his wallet. “How much do I owe you, Miguel?”
“You don’t want to see them?”
“Not right now,” says Daniel.
Miguel eyes him with concern as he accepts payment. “¿Estás bien, amigo?”
“Ay, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Ya lo veo. I see that. Well, when you are feeling better, please return. I would like to discuss these photos with you.”
“Sure, I’d like that too.” Daniel takes the large envelope and exits the shop.
* * *
The hotel is alive with music and guests. Hundreds of young men in stark white uniforms fill the lobby. Daniel doesn’t want the distraction of a party. He longs for privacy. Quiet.
Ben Stahl speaks to an older man in uniform and takes notes on a small pad. Lorenza and Ana orbit the group, selling cigars and cigarettes. Ana sees Daniel on his way to the elevator and makes her way to him.
“Buenas noches, señor.”
“Hola, Ana. Looks like a big party.”
“The U.S. Air Force cadets are visiting Madrid during their summer tour. The embassy is holding a reception here,” she says.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Ana’s brow creases. “Señor Matheson, are you okay?”
Daniel looks at her. Ana’s concern is so genuine. He wants to tell her everything. Instead he gives a weak smile. “I’m fine. I think I’ll have an early dinner in my room tonight.”
Her voice quiets. “Of course, señor. I’ll have the room-service operator call up right away.”
“Thanks, Ana. I appreciate it.” He makes his way to the elevator, holding the envelope of photos.
“Seventh floor, por favor.”
The elevator climbs. Daniel’s heart sinks.
63
The room-service trolley sits in his room, the silver dome unmoved from the entrée plate. A soft knock sounds at the door. Daniel opens it and finds Ana in the hallway.
“Forgive me for disturbing you, señor. I will soon leave for the night. I wanted to inquire if you’d like turndown service?”
“Oh, thanks. That’s fine.” Daniel steps aside and allows Ana to enter. He slumps back in the chair as she flutters around the room.
She lifts the silver dome from the dinner plate. “You haven’t eaten. Did the meal not please you? We can request something different.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Ana walks over and sits down next to Daniel.
“Forgive me for intruding, señor, but you are clearly not yourself.”
Daniel looks at Ana. She leans toward him, concerned and eager to help. Her brown curls lie in perfect waves across her shoulders. Her eyes search for answers.
“Ana, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”
“Señor,” says Ana, smiling wide, “be assured that I am someone who can keep a secret.”
Daniel nods. He points to the telegram on the coffee table. “Read it.”
Ana lifts the paper and scans the message. “I don’t understand.”
“This is the second telegram. I know I shouldn’t read them. I guess it serves me right, swiping their secret.”
Ana pauses, examining Daniel. “And what, exactly, do you think their secret is?”
“I think they may be separating.”
Ana pulls back in bewilderment. “No, señor. They’re not.”
“I wish that were true.”
“Señor, I—” Ana pauses, as if choosing her words carefully. “Señor, the housekeeping staff is witness to much at the hotel. I can assure you that your parents are not separating.”