“That’s okay. Take pictures if you’d like. Do you see Julia?” Daniel points. Antonio finds his wife in the crowd of dancers and snaps a photo.
“Have you taken a lot of pictures in Madrid?” asks Antonio. He hands the camera back to Daniel.
“I have.” Daniel fiddles with the camera, his foot tapping to the music. “I went out to the Inclusa like you suggested.” Mention of the Inclusa triggers Nick’s comment about babies not being orphans. Could that be true? Does Antonio know something?
The lines on Antonio’s forehead lift in surprise. “The Inclusa, was it interesting?”
“A boy came crying on the sidewalk. He had a note from his mother, sending him to the orphanage. I felt badly for him. He was only five.”
Antonio nods attentively. “Did you take any photos inside?”
“No, it didn’t really feel appropriate.”
“They might be pleased for you to take photos. You can show America how wonderful Spanish social programs are. You should ask.”
Daniel is only half listening. His eyes are on Ana. She’s dancing with Nick, whose steps are clumsy. Spaniards hold their drink. If Nick weren’t holding on to Ana, he’d probably be stumbling.
Antonio follows his gaze. “Texanos don’t dance?”
“We do.” Daniel hands his camera to Antonio and walks out onto the dance floor. He taps Nick on the shoulder to cut in.
“Time for the switch, cowboy?” Nick’s voice brims with false enthusiasm. He steps aside and makes a grand gesture of departure to Ana.
“Think you can stand a Texas two-step?” asks Daniel.
“If you show me, I’ll try to follow.”
“Do we need a chaperone?”
Ana laughs, her smile glowing. “We have a hundred chaperones here, señor.”
Daniel slides his right arm under Ana’s left, placing his hand on her shoulder blade. He takes her hand. She looks to the floor, following his steps. Quick, quick, slow, slow. Quick, quick, slow, slow.
Daniel slides in to her ear. “Look at me, not your feet. It works best if you feel it, not think it.”
She looks up at Daniel. Eyes clasped, he guides her and they fall in step.
“I think I’ve got it.” She smiles.
“Yeah? You got it?”
She nods.
His arm is suddenly over her head, spinning her away, then pulling her back in. Each time he pulls her back, it’s tighter, her smile wider. When their bodies finally meet, he holds her close, moving her into the steps.
Girls in Texas wear fabric chaperones—stiff dresses and petticoats that rustle and crunch with each movement. Ana’s dress is handkerchief light and sways silently as she moves. Daniel turns Ana away from him, sliding his hand across her waist. When he twirls her back in, her dance-thrown hair presses against the side of his face. She smells like lemons. Her dress is so thin it’s like touching her skin. Can she feel his belt buckle through her dress? Ana’s mouth is suddenly to his ear.
“Ay, I think we need a chaperone.” There’s a light pull at his earlobe.
Did she just kiss him?
Ana kissed him on the ear.
Did she?
The song ends and Daniel steps back quickly, putting respectable distance between them. He nods politely to Ana as he would a partner in a Texas dance hall. Her black hair, full and tousled from the turns, hangs in wild, loose spirals around her face. She looks at Daniel and throws her head back with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
Ana shakes her head. “You. Your expression.”
Nick approaches, holding Daniel’s camera retrieved from Antonio. “Didn’t you say you had a photo shoot tomorrow?”
Daniel nods, staring at Ana.
“Well, it’s late,” says Nick. “We better get going.”
“You’re worried about staying out late, Nick? That’s a first,” says Ana.
Daniel runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Actually, he’s right. I told Ben that I’d shoot for him tomorrow morning.” He looks at Ana. “But maybe sleep is overrated.”
Ana nods, grinning. “It is late. I’m sure turndown service was completed in your suite long ago. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow at the hotel. Buenas noches, señor.” Ana turns and walks away.
“Let’s get out of here,” says Nick. “Looks like Fuga’s planning his own ‘turndown’ service for you. Man, that guy is scary. Did you ever notice that he actually looks like a bull?”
Daniel hasn’t noticed. Why did Ana laugh at him? He was trying to be polite and respectful. Did he come off as an amateur?
Nick falls asleep the moment the car leaves Vallecas. But Daniel is wide-awake. He drives through the dark Spanish night with all the windows rolled down. He feels her whisper upon his ear. The melody of Ana plays on in his head.
85
Julia watches her sister from across the room. Ana is flushed, aglow after her dance. The Texas boy is trouble. His jeans, his boots, his dancing. Trouble.
Antonio wraps a comforting arm around Julia. “Ay, don’t worry so much. He’ll go back to Texas soon. They’re just having fun.”
“Exactly. Remember the intensity of everything at that age? It results in bad decisions.”
“It’s fine. He’s gone for the night. Mi amor, would a rich Texano really be such a bad decision?”
“Yes, Antonio. He’s not serious about her. He’s just another American who thinks he can take whatever he wants.” Julia sighs with concern and looks to her husband. “He’s going to break her heart,” she whispers.
Antonio shakes his head. “You’re wrong.”
“I am?”
He nods. “She’s going to break his.”
86
Daniel pulls the Buick onto the apron of elegant pavers in front of the hotel. A man in a green-and-gold uniform sprints to the car.
“Welcome back, señor.”
Nick yawns, groggy. “You want to get something to eat?” he asks Daniel.
“No, I’m gonna head up.”
Daniel briefly checks the lobby to see if his dad might be there. His father is not in the lobby, but Paco Lobo is, peering over a wrinkled map spread out in front of him. He waves Daniel over.
“Hello. I was just checking to see if my father was here.”