La Luna de Miel Chapter Seventeen: A Run to the Bank
Another breakfast in their suite and they descended to the lobby. Mano stopped by one of the coffee tables to pick up the local paper while Carmen exchanged pleasantries with the manager. Mano watched her. Her color is better, he thought. She is no longer unsteady. Dios mío, gracias. The doctor was right. It was just a chill. They strolled outside and Mano hailed a cab.
"Where are we going, my love?"
"You'll see when we get there, cariña mía." and he smiled, tight-lipped, secretive, satisfied. Ah, thought Carmen, I will let you have your little game, mi esposo. Such beautiful buildings to attract my attention out this window. Enjoy your fun.
The cab jostled along the street, stopping in front of an imposing building: all marble with white stone steps, Palladian columns, huge oak doors, and the words "Banco Central" engraved on the cornerstone. Mano jumped out of the cab, helped Carmen climb down, paid the driver and took his wife's arm, leading her up the stone steps and through the doors. Crystal chandeliers sparkled. Marble floors shone as glass. Tellers' cages gleamed along the sides. Carmen surveyed the scene. "Mano, what are we doing here?" she asked.
"Follow me, Señora Montoya, and you will discover." He guided her toward a desk at the right. A dapper man with waxed moustaches, a prim gray suit, and rimless pince nez popped up from behind the desk when he saw them.
"Don Manolo! Cómo está usted?" the man asked.
"I'm very well, Señor Lloret. May I present my wife, la Señora Carmen de Montoya?"
"Encantado Señora, encantado!" he gushed, taking her proffered hand with a delicate touch and bowing low.
"May I access my box?" Mano asked, producing a key.
"But of course, sigame por favor." Lloret spun on his heel and, with short mincing steps, led them past the tellers' cages, through a huge steel door, down a marble staircase to an anteroom containing two sturdy oak chairs and a wooden table, scratched and scarred on top but covered with a green cloth mat. Mano pulled one chair out for Carmen and followed Lloret into a backroom with iron bars like a prison door. Soon Mano emerged with a long steel box. Lloret bowed and shut the door so that the couple were alone.
"What is this?" Carmen asked.
"This is my strongbox. It holds something of great value. Sentimental value at least."
She watched as he opened the strongbox and removed the velvet bag, tied with a golden cord. He untied the cord, opened the sack, and allowed the contents to slide out onto the mat atop the table. Carmen gasped and her eyes shone as she saw an intricate silver tiara with ropy clusters of pearls and tiny diamonds. Sapphires studded the main band, its middle adorned by one large sapphire that to Carmen seemed as large as what she had read of the Star of India, but was much smaller.
"Oh Mano, this is exquisite!" she exclaimed.
"It was my great grandmother's. It was brought all the way from Spain and it has been in my family since. My mother wore it once to a ball, but apart from that it has remained here, languishing in this bank vault with no one to admire it."
"Victoria surely will want to wear it?"
"No. She does not. She says the tiara reminds her too much of our mother. It makes her sad. So here it has stayed. Papá presented me with the key to this strongbox on my 21st birthday. He told me that one day I would know what to do with it." He smiled at Carmen "And now I do. I want you to have it. I would love to take you to a grand ball where you might wear it with pride. Only you could do it justice."
"Oh, Mano!" her eyes moistened and she smiled as he lifted the tiara and fitted it to her, nestling it in the thick black curls piled atop her head. He blinked and his breath caught as he looked at her. So beautiful. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips and he returned the embrace. They pulled apart and looked each other in the eye. He removed the tiara, replaced it in the velvet bag, tying it again with the golden cord and pulling on the bell cord. Lloret materialized moments later.
"Please have this delivered to the Hotel Nacional for this evening, Señor Lloret."
"Of course, Don Manolo, of course." Lloret bowed low to both of them and they ascended the stairs alone. Mano knew Señor Lloret would have the tiara fitted into a jewelry case and watched by two employees all day. Never would the guards let it out of their sight until they delivered it to the hotel manager later that day.
"Cafe, mi amor?" Mano asked as they strolled past a bistro on the way back to the Hotel Nacional. Still flushed with excitement, they had elected to walk rather than summon a cab. The cafe, halfway to the hotel, proved an elegant stop. Carmen pretended not to notice when Mano suggested to the waiter that he add brandy to their coffees. They sipped their carajillos, smiling, looking at each other and saying very little. The brandy relaxed her and her face reddened at a few of the thoughts about him that crept into her mind.
"Are you too warm, beloved?"
"Oh, no. I am fine. Perhaps I am a little...ah, tired." She smiled and he noticed that her breathing quickened a bit. He thought he knew what this meant. They finished their coffees and walked back to the hotel for a late lunch...and a siesta, perhaps.
VKS & MJRod claim the creation of Carmen Navarro, although we took her first name from a David Dortort script proposal. We also are the creators of the Vargas clan , Rancho Navarro and its people including Delgado, and all of the characters in and around Hermosillo. We would have nothing to create were it not for our favorite western, "The High Chaparral," to which we pay tribute.