Chapter 2 - THE LITTLE WHITE BAG
By the time I reached the vineyard, my nine-year-old daughter was sitting alone in a dressing room, holding a white candle in one hand and a photograph in the other.
And my mother was standing outside the door, telling someone that Alba had ruined her aunt's wedding.
I heard those words before anyone realized I had arrived.
"She's a child, for heaven's sake," my mother said. "Somebody should have taken that thing away from her."
"Try it," I said.
My mother turned.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Behind her, the vineyard's beautiful reception hall stood decorated with white roses and gold ribbons. I could hear guests whispering through the open doors.
My mother's eyes went to my car keys.
"Marta, you shouldn't have driven here in this condition."
"What condition?"
"Upset."
I looked at her.
"My daughter is frightened, my husband tried to take something from her, and you're worried about my being upset?"
"Javier was only trying to prevent a scene."
"He should have thought about that before marrying my sister."
I moved past her.
She caught my arm.
"Please don't make this worse."
I looked down at her hand.
"Let go."
Something in my voice made her obey.
Elena appeared from the hallway, her face pale.
"She's in there," she whispered. "I stayed with her until your mother came."
"Has anyone hurt her?"
"No. But Marta, Javier is furious."
"Then he can be furious somewhere else."
I opened the dressing-room door.
Alba was sitting on a velvet bench beneath a large mirror. Her pale blue dress was wrinkled. One of her shoes had slipped off.
When she saw me, her face crumpled.
"Mom."
I crossed the room and dropped to my knees.
She threw her arms around my neck.
"I'm sorry."
Those two words nearly broke me.
"For what, sweetheart?"
"Everybody got mad."
I held her tighter.
"You didn't do anything wrong by asking a question."
She pulled back.
"Did I ruin the wedding?"
"No, baby."
"But Grandma said—"
"Grandma doesn't get to decide that."
Alba looked toward the door.
"Is Dad still mad?"
"I don't know. Right now, I'm here for you."
Her fingers tightened around the candle.
It was a simple white taper, the kind people bought for church services or weddings. A little gold ribbon had been tied around its middle.
Beside her lay the white gift bag Lucy had sent that morning.
"Can I see what you brought?" I asked.
Alba nodded.
She carefully handed me the photograph.
My breath caught.
It showed Javier and Lucy standing outside a hotel.
They were smiling.
Javier's arm was around my sister's waist.
There was nothing particularly shocking about that anymore.
Except for the date printed along the bottom.
April 14.
Two years earlier.
I stared.
Javier had told me the affair began eleven months before I discovered it.
Lucy had insisted it started even later.
But April 14 was our fifteenth wedding anniversary.
The day Javier told me he had an emergency meeting in Memphis.
The day I took all four children out for pizza because he hadn't come home.
"Where did you get this?" I whispered.
Alba pointed to the bag.
"Aunt Lucy put it in there."
"Lucy gave you this picture?"
"Not exactly."
She reached into the bag and pulled out a small cream-colored envelope.
It had no name on the outside.
"She told me to keep the bag with me until the candle part. There was a little book inside, and the picture fell out when I took the book out."
"What book?"
Alba handed it over.
It was a slim photo album wrapped in ivory ribbon.
On the cover, someone had written:
Our New Beginning.
I opened it.
The first several pages contained photographs of Javier and Lucy.
Dinner dates.
A beach trip.
A Christmas photograph taken in a cabin I didn't recognize.
And then I turned another page.
My hands began trembling.
There was a picture of Lucy sitting on our back porch.
She was wearing my mother's pearl necklace.
In her lap sat Alba, then seven years old.
The caption underneath read:
The daughter we already share.
I looked at my child.
"Alba, have you seen this picture before?"
She nodded.
"Aunt Lucy took it when you were at the hospital with Tommy."
Tommy, my oldest son, had broken his arm two summers earlier.
Javier was supposed to be watching the younger children.
Apparently, Lucy had been helping.
"She said it was our secret," Alba added.
"What was?"
"That she was going to be my other mommy someday."
I closed the album.
My sister had been preparing my daughter for this betrayal long before I even knew it existed.
I wanted to cry.
Instead, I took Alba's hands.
"Listen carefully. Adults should never ask children to keep secrets that make them uncomfortable. Especially secrets about their family."
She nodded.
"That's what Mrs. Parker says at school."
"Mrs. Parker is right."
Alba glanced at the album.
"There's something else."
Before I could ask, the door opened.
Javier stood there in his wedding suit.
Behind him was Lucy.
Her white dress was exquisite.
Her mascara wasn't.
"Marta," Javier said sharply. "We need to talk."
I rose.
"Not in front of Alba."
Lucy stepped forward.
"Please. This whole thing has gotten completely out of hand."
I looked at my sister.
"Whose idea was the album?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"The photographs. The captions. The little family you've apparently been planning for years."
Lucy's eyes flickered toward the bench.
"That was supposed to be a private gift."
"For whom?"
"For Javier."
"Then why was it in my daughter's bag?"
Lucy swallowed.
"I must have mixed up the bags."
Javier looked at her.
It was a small movement.
But I noticed it.
He hadn't known about the album.
"Lucy," he said slowly, "what pictures?"
She didn't answer.
I held up the anniversary photograph.
Javier went completely still.
"April fourteenth," I said.
He closed his eyes.
"That isn't what you think."
I laughed once.
"Then tell me what it is."
He looked at Alba.
"Can we discuss this privately?"
"No," I said. "You wanted your daughter involved in your wedding. You can explain why she was carrying pictures of your affair."
Alba moved closer to me.
"Dad?"
His expression softened.
"Sweetheart, none of this is your responsibility."
"Then why did you try to grab my bag?"
The question landed harder than anything I could have said.
Javier opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Lucy took another step.
"Alba, honey, you misunderstood. We were only trying to make you feel included."
My daughter shook her head.
"You said Mom would be sad if I told."
Lucy froze.
Javier turned toward her.
"You told her that?"
"Javier, don't."
"You told my daughter to hide things from her mother?"
For the first time since I arrived, I saw something that looked like genuine anger directed at Lucy.
But before anyone could speak again, Alba tugged my sleeve.
"Mom, the picture isn't the important part."
I looked down.
"What do you mean?"
She reached into the little white bag again.
This time she pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
"I found this in the back of the book."
I unfolded it.
At the top were four names.
Tommy.
Alba.
Nico.
Sofia.
Beside each name was a handwritten note.
At the bottom, under a heading that read Family Transition Plan, was a sentence that made my blood run cold.
After the ceremony, Javier will explain that the children have already agreed to spend most of their time at the new house.
I looked at Javier.
He looked genuinely confused.
Then I turned to Lucy.
Her face had gone white.
"You're planning to take my children?"
Lucy shook her head.
"It's not what it looks like."
But Alba reached for the paper and pointed to a line I hadn't seen.
"Mom," she whispered, "look what it says next to my name."
I looked.
Beside Alba's name, in Lucy's careful handwriting, were six words.
She knows about the hospital payment.
May you like
And underneath them was a date.
The day after I lost my baby.
