Unforgiven
Part 7
By Heather
Michelle
It doesn’t take me long to realize I’m alone. I sit up almost drunkenly from my slumber and look around. Oversleeping always does this to me; it leaves me feeling disoriented and queasy. The sun hazily filters in through the closed draperies. I look at the clock beside our bed-it’s almost noon. My stomach rolls and for a second I’m afraid I’m going to be sick but the feeling slowly passes. I rest my hand on my turbulent stomach anyway.
Pulling my robe closer around me, I rise to make my way to the bathroom. I run some cool water into the sink and splash some on my face. I glance in the mirror, but hurriedly look away-not liking the tired, pale face I see there.
All during my brief nap, images of Danny and of lurking trouble bothered me. I’m not sure what is going on, but I know Danny well enough to know something is terribly wrong. He is hiding something from me, something he is afraid to tell me, and I don’t like it. At all.
Wanting to go search for Danny, I set about to get myself presentable. Hurriedly, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I push my hair back into a ponytail and hurriedly brush some make-up on my on my face, wane with worry. I go back into our room and pull on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. I am mindless to what shoes I slip on, but then that is the beauty of my ensemble. It doesn't matter. I head down the stairs to the study.
I’m surprised to see Ray sitting where I was expecting to find Danny. He’s hunched over in the way too large chair that Carmen loved to rule from, his head propped in his hands. He’s mumbling something-it sounds like a prayer. Not wanting to bother him, I quietly walk in and sit down in the chair across from him to wait. He doesn’t seem to hear me, since he doesn’t lift his head.
Curious, I scan the room, taking in all the changes it has gone through since the last time I was here. Carmen apparently redecorated, or I have completely forgotten the room, which is possible. The one thing that I do remember is the huge, imposing desk that Ray sits at now, a small shadow compared to the presence Carmen commanded there. She was downright terrifying when sitting in her throne.
My eyes scan the desk, taking in all the papers and files scattered there. A picture of me sits where Danny can see it-it’s one he took on our honeymoon. It’s of me, standing on the St. Cristobel shore, the ocean to my back, the sun in my hair. I had a huge smile on my face, only for him. I look so happy, so at peace. It’s seems like a lifetime ago when we were that happy.
His coffee cup sits just left of it and pens litter the smooth, wooden surface. Danny never was one for neatness when working. Olga piled the mail at the right edge of the desk, beside the telephone. In front of Ray is another stack of files. His priest collar and a small brown envelope sit on top. Puzzled over both objects, I lean forward slightly to examine them closer. I see the scrawled, hastily written address on the envelope- it’s to. I see a small, golden clasp on what appears to be a necklace peaking from out of the envelope. Something familiar washes over me, the hesitant, distinct feeling of fear.
I must have made a small sound because Ray’s head jerks up and our eyes lock. Self-loathing and fear mark his dark eyes; his lips turn down in a sad frown. My eyes travel back down to the envelope and his eyes follow mine. Before he can take it, I reach out and grab it and hold it tight to my chest. I 'm not sure what it contains, but and I do know that it is inexplicably tied to me, and even Danny.
And I do know I'm going to open it.
Ray
I thought I was alone. I was just sitting here, wondering what I’m going to do about all this-Danny, Mick, Carmen, the business-when I heard a small, breathy “oh!” and looked up to see Michelle grabbing the one thing I was supposed to keep her from seeing. The envelope that carries all our secrets. The envelope that can destroy the Santos family forever.
I reached out to stop her but it was too late. She’s holding it tight to her chest, the look on her face daring me to defy her and take it.
“Michelle,” I say wearily. “Give that back.”
“No Ray,” she replies angrily, her eyes filling with tears. “I know something is going on and I want to know what it is. Danny’s acting weird, you’re acting weird, and I’m sick and tired of being treated like a child. I am a member of this family damn it, and I have a right to know what has everyone so upset. I am not made out of glass Ray.”
I can’t argue with her there. I tried to tell Danny to tell her everything. But I can’t undo his mistakes. Can I?
“It’s nothing Michelle,” I say, trying to reason with her. “It’s just mail.”
“Is it Ray? Is it nothing? Some how I doubt it. I don’t think you would look so upset if it was nothing.” She wipes her eyes, where her tears were beginning to pool and threaten to fall on to her pale cheeks.
“Ray,” she says softly, “don’t I have a right to know what is going on with my own husband?”
Yes, she does. But can I go against my family and my…well…boss? She is family. But so is Danny. I feel so damn torn. I reach out and finger my discarded collar lying on the desk. A small prayer forms on my lips, but something keeps me from saying it out loud.
I’m changing already.
“I’m sorry Michelle,” I hear myself say. “But I can’t let you see what is in that envelope.”
My red hot, Santos blood roaring in my ears, I reach out and pluck it from her arms. I open a drawer in the desk and push it inside, all the while my eyes never leaving hers. I take the key, and lock it in.
Her now tear-stained face defiantly sets, her eyes hardening and growing dark with her anger.
“That’s fine Ray,” she says, her voice hard and unwavering. “I’ll find out what’s going on sooner or later. It doesn’t matter if you help me. I’ll see what’s in the envelope. And I will be just as involved as you. I am a Santos now, like it or not.”
With that she rises and stalks out of the room.
What have I done?