Chapter Five:
Alphonse and Dora
It wasn’t long before they arrived at Sepulveda Boulevard. Miguel got off the freeway, and steered them into the heart of Acapulco – a bustling little city set on a deep, semicircular bay. They drove past mountains of high-rise hotels, with the clear blue water sparkling out in the distance, winding peacefully around the wide roads until they came to their destination.
Alphonse’s house was almost as impressive as the hotels they’d passed. It had four stories, with windows that glittered in the sun, and more terraces than Adrienne could count in only a few seconds.
“Are you sure this is it?” she asked doubtfully.
“Like I said,” Miguel replied, “this is the only house on the boulevard. And besides – I know that Señor Rivet lives here. I’ve even met him.”
“Really?” Adrienne said curiously, looking into Miguel’s face, wondering if she’d see something there that gave her some clue as to who her brother was nowadays.
“Yes, señora,” Miguel said. “He is a nice man. Very busy, very overworked – but nice enough. He has a good face. And believe me – I know faces.”
He pulled into the wide U-shaped drive in front of the mansion, stopping just in front of the tall, white double doors that made up the entrance. They stood open to the warm afternoon breeze, and revealed an array of pale Oriental carpets, lying in all directions in the large parlor that opened right off the doors.
Adrienne got out of the van, and Miguel came around to get her suitcase. He placed it just inside the front doors, and then came back to bid Adrienne farewell. He looked into her face for a moment, smiling in a curious way.
“You are nervous, señora,” he said. “Don’t be! I feel that you will enjoy yourself, here in Mexico.”
“What makes you say so?” she asked him.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have. And besides – I feel that you deserve it.”
“Thank you, Miguel,” Adrienne said softly.
“You are most welcome, señora! But now – I must go.”
He leaned forward on his tip-toes, since he was so short, and gave Adrienne a kiss on the cheek. “Remember!” he said. “Enjoy yourself.”
“I’ll try,” Adrienne promised.
Miguel nodded happily, and started back to the van.
Just as that moment, though, someone came out of the front doors. It was a very tall man, thin but strong-looking, with dark hair and eyes. His skin was fair. He wore a pair of khakis and a light blue button-down shirt. He smiled like he was used to selling things – and looked, in fact, rather like a salesman on vacation. But then – he was a lawyer. That was almost the same thing.
Adrienne was mildly pleased to have recognized him. She’d been afraid, after all, that she wouldn’t.
His smile faltered when he saw Adrienne. He looked seriously into her face, and then showed a different smile – a more genuine smile.
“Adrienne?” he asked.
“It’s me,” she replied.
“Well,” he said, turning around in a circle. “Do I look any different?”
“A little,” Adrienne lied. Well – the truth was that his face was the same. But his eyes weren’t.
“Ah, well,” Alphonse said. “Seventeen years will do that to you.”
He glanced at Miguel, who had paused on his way to the van, obviously thinking it would be polite to greet Alphonse before he left.
“Ah!” Alphonse exclaimed, with that air of phoniness creeping back into his demeanor. “Hello, Miguel! You’re my favorite shuttle driver, you know. You’re the only one who actually knows how to drive.”
“Is that so, señor?” Miguel asked. “Well, I appreciate the compliment.”
“Never appreciate things you deserve,” Alphonse advised. “It makes it harder to get them.”
Miguel smiled softly, and nodded, as if he were speaking with a silly little child. But it was plain that he liked Alphonse.
“Thank you, Señor Rivet!” he said. “I’m sure you are right.”
He bowed to Alphonse, and smiled once more at Adrienne, before getting into his van, and driving away.
“Nice little gentleman,” Alphonse remarked, looking after the van for a moment. “It’s good when you meet one. Most of them aren’t like that. They’re always trying to sell you something. Umbrellas, massages – it’s very annoying. As if anyone would want a wrinkled old man massaging them. Ugh.”
He laughed lightly. Adrienne could tell that this was his usual laugh – maybe not his real laugh, but the one he used most often. He seemed to notice, though, that she wasn’t impressed by it. He frowned, and walked nearer to her.
“It’s been a long time, sister,” he murmured.
“It has,” she returned, smiling at the sincerity that tinged his voice.
He stared at her for a moment, and reached out to take her hand. But then he shook himself, and dropped her hand. “Well,” he said, turning to the house, “will you let me show you around?”
“Of course,” she answered, stepping towards her suitcase by the door.
“No, no,” he said politely. “Let me get it for you.”
He stepped into the house, and called out, “Carmen!”
A very slight young woman appeared from out of a back corridor. She wore a black maid’s outfit, complete with a spotless white apron.
“We don’t usually make them dress like that,” Alphonse explained. “But, what with the wedding and all – well, we just thought we’d make it look good.”
He turned to the young maid, and thrust the heavy suitcase out to her. She didn’t hesitate before taking it, but she staggered under it just the same. She was hardly bigger than a thirteen-year-old child, and the case looked as if it weighed half as much as she did.
“Wait a minute,” Adrienne protested. “You don’t have to take that. It’s too heavy.”
“It’s all right,” Alphonse said with a bright smile. “She’s stronger than she looks. She has six younger brothers, and she’s carried them all on her back. At the same time, I think.” He paused, and thought for a moment. “Was it all at the same time, Carmen?” he asked the maid. “I think that was what you said. When your house caught fire, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” the little maid answered, hefting the case with a good-natured grunt.
Adrienne was disgusted, but she tried not to acknowledge the fact. She didn’t want to admit, just yet, that she didn’t think she liked her brother very much.
“You can take that up to one of the guest rooms, Carmen,” Alphonse said to the maid, not unkindly, but rather absently, as if he could have been talking to a goldfish. “You got one ready for my sister, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Carmen grunted in reply.
“Good. The other guests won’t be here till tonight, so you have plenty of time to finish up with the others.”
“Already done, sir,” Carmen said breathlessly, stumbling away under the weight of the suitcase.
“Ah,” Alphonse said admiringly. “She’s a good nut, that one.”
Adrienne didn’t reply. She looked at the side of her brother’s face for a moment, wondering what to make of him. She was lost in a cloud of thoughts that weren’t entirely pleasant to her – when a door at the side of the parlor opened, and a woman walked in.
It looked like she was coming from the pool. She was wearing a black bikini, and every inch of her willowy, snow-white limbs was visible. Her long chestnut-colored hair was bound up behind her head, and a pair of dark sunglasses covered her eyes. She took them off when she came into the house, and tucked them up into her hair.
Adrienne was grateful to see that she wasn’t sickeningly young. Alphonse was thirty-three, after all. The dark-haired woman looked as if she were about thirty.
She looked towards the door, where Alphonse was standing with Adrienne, and flashed a friendly smile. Adrienne felt her breath catch.
“Oh my goodness,” she
said loudly, her voice permeated with a warm Southern accent. “Is that your sister, Al?”
Alphonse grinned. “It’s her,” he answered.
The dark-haired woman walked over to them, beaming brightly. She was staring at Adrienne.
“I’ve been wondering what you’d look like,” she said. “I guess I thought you’d look more like Al. But you look – well, you look more like Kim Novak.” She smiled even more widely, and clapped her hands. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “That’s exactly what you look like. You’re Kim Novak in Vertigo.”
Her smile didn’t falter, but it became twisted with a little nervousness, Adrienne thought. She kept staring at Adrienne, and went on, “You be Kim Novak – and I’ll be Jimmy Stewart. But then again, I’ll bet everybody says that to you!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Alphonse said. “You’ll have to excuse my fiancée, though, Adrienne. She’s an incorrigible flirt. I’ve been worrying about what to do if she makes a pass at the priest tomorrow.”
“Oh, Al,” the dark-haired woman said with a sigh, looking patronizingly at Alphonse. “You say the stupidest things.”
“Most people actually say that I’m very eloquent,” Alphonse explained to Adrienne. “But then, that’s just a part of the job. If you don’t dazzle them, your client goes to the slammer. And then your fees go down.”
“Oh, Al,” his fiancée repeated, shaking her head as if she were annoyed.
Adrienne looked into the woman’s face, and felt her breath catch in her throat again. She coughed slightly, and said, “I don’t think Alphonse told me your name.”
The woman began to beam again. “My name’s Dora,” she said. “Dora Wakefield. Well – Dora Rivet, come tomorrow.”
“Where are you from?” Adrienne asked.
“Georgia,” Dora answered. “Good old Atlanta. Daddy’s a truck driver, and Mama knows how to keep busy while’s he’s away. I always missed him when he was gone – but the nights he left, I remember Mama gave us the biggest ice cream sundaes.”
She continued to smile, her eyes lingering on Adrienne’s face. But Adrienne felt herself beginning to blush, which wasn’t like her – so she cleared her throat again, and asked if she might have a glass of water.
“Oh, of course,” Alphonse answered hospitably. But then he looked towards the staircase, and shouted, “Carmen!”