Chapter 32
“I can’t believe I came here,” Maria muttered under her breath as she stepped off Bus 9. “I must be completely out of my mind or really desperate for the truth.”
Maria viewed the Mantez’s front lawn, and the fact that her archenemy’s family was upper class was quite apparent. Unlike most houses within Arica where your only hope of getting even a single blade of grass to grow was to own an underground sprinkle system; at Michelle’s residence, its landscaped yard was nothing short of being a work of art. Not to mention, their absolute perfect stone garden was far more than suffice to make their neighbors' yards greatly pale in comparison.
A few hundred feet above a single seagull floated past, and it cawed just shortly before Maria pressed the doorbell located next to Mantez’s ivory white front door. You’re probably right, my fine feathered friend. This so-called meeting will probably end up being for the birds.
“Will you please come in, young Mrs. Vargas,” Alita, the Mantez’s cook and housekeeper said upon opening the door. “Michelle told me of your upcoming arrival, and she’ll be joining you soon. Please be seated.”
“Thanks.” Maria answered, unintentionally revealing her nervousness when her voice cracked.
Taking a seat on the Mantez’s maroon colored sofa, Maria noticed its fabric, like everything inside the living room, spoke of enormous wealth, along with the large bust of Beethoven proudly standing on a ceramic pedestal at the precise locale where the living room ended and the formal dining began. In addition, an accompanying Picasso hung on the wall only a few feet away.
Maria was certain the painting had to be a copy. However, regardless of if it was an original or not, it was a good image of the artist’s famous work picturing Olga Klokova, who became the mother of his first child, Paul. The masterpiece featured her dressed up in Spanish style, with a Manila cloth and a fan.
“Why, hello Maria,” Michelle called in a rich I’m-better-than-you tone as she entered the room. “How good it was of you to come. I wasn’t certain if you would actually make it, and certainly would not have blamed you if you didn’t.”
Maria gracefully rose to her feet, even though deep inside, she would have preferred to grab a handkerchief from her handbag and slapped Michelle across the face with it. However, in being courteous and following tradition, they shared a Latin hug. “Thanks.”
“So how was your little venture to the United States?” Michelle asked, noticing her rival’s look of disdain and fully enjoying it. “I do sincerely hope you were able to find a new boyfriend there.”
“Why?” Maria promptly answered. “I have a good one here in Arica. José. Why would I bother to look for another? There wasn’t a need to.”
“There wasn’t?” Michelle almost laughed as she glanced at the living room’s sculptured ceiling. “I hate to tell you girlfriend, but José is now mine. Lock, stock, and barrel. Didn’t he share the wonderful news with you? … I’m so excited; I literally could almost burst.”
“What news?” Maria said, drawing back in her seat. “The only thing I heard is, you’re trying to blackmail him into marrying you through a wild cockeyed scheme you developed during my absence.”
“Me? Trying to scheme someone like José into marrying me?” Michelle said, as if unduly insulted. “Do you actually believe, girl, that I would lower my standards like that? I’m surprised at you, Maria. I thought you knew me better.”
Maria grinned. “I do know you, Michelle. Quite well, in fact. After seeing the last fifty schemes you’ve tried in an attempt to steal José away from me, why should this one be any different?”
Michelle’s brown eyes instantly opened wide, and if it would have been humanly possible, steam would have forcefully escaped from both of her ears. “How dare you say something like that about me, Maria … especially inside my own home? Don’t you have any decency? I’ve never tried to steal José, and you know it. … You’re just the overly jealous type with a vivid imagination.”
“Oh really?” Maria jumped to her feet, and then folded her arms just above her waist. “And what exactly are you basing that on? From what José has told me, not only am I dead right about you - with this latest plot you’ve enacted, you’ve successfully managed to lower yourself from once being a highly respected upper society girl here in Arica, to nothing much more than a low-class pregnant slut. So who’s talking now, sister?”
“What? How dare you.”
Maria paused and a mischievous smile silently formed across her lips. “Quite easily. Don’t you think I’ve heard the rumors? Who’s the real father of your child, Michelle? Or have you slept around so much; you don’t have the slightest idea so you’re trying to pin your disgrace on José?”
“It is José’s,” Michelle bellowed. “And I can prove it.”
“Oh?” Maria briefly glanced upward. This ought to be good. “How?”
“I’ve got pictures. Just give me a second, and I’ll get them from my bedroom.”
Maria sort of grinned and lowered herself back onto the couch. “Take two seconds, if you’d like. Everyone knows any photo you may have is either a fake or has been doctored.”
“Really?” Michelle turned toward the hallway. “Let’s just see what you have to say in a couple of moments from now.”
As Maria watched Michelle disappear, she knew there was no possible way her archenemy was going to be able to produce anything substantial. Yes. She possibly may have a photo, she thought while waiting. But the odds of any picture being “for real” ... Well. That’s almost next to nothing. .... I know Jose and am ninety-nine percent sure he never would have slept with this high-class tramp, so it’s impossible she could be pregnant with his child.
“Are you ready, Dear?” Michelle called out from the end of the hallway, while holding a few Polaroids in her hand and looking about as smug as an adolescent who had discovered their mother’s well-hidden cookie jar. “Or would you prefer to save yourself some pain and simply turn poor José over to me here and now?”
“Pain?” Maria chuckled. “You’ve got to be joking. What in the world do you think you could show me that would hurt me?”
Michelle stepped a few feet closer, close enough to where Maria would have a plain view of the photos she was about to present.
“Would you like to begin with this one?”
Maria viewed the erotic scene in front of her, and her eyes bulged and jaw dropped.
“Do you still have any doubt that José is the father of my child … or do I need to show you a few others? … He really was good the night these pictures were taken, but you probably already know about how well he can please a lady.”
Maria looked again at the Polaroid in front of her and there was no doubt the person sensually engaged with Michelle, was José.
“Explain one thing, Dear, before you get too self-assured that José is going to be yours. If the two of you were engaged in a consensual relationship as this picture tries to indicate, how come my boyfriend appears to be passed out, and his phallus is limp?”
Michelle smiled, and it was not unlike one normally would expect from the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. “That’s because it was taken a few minutes after we had finished, Sweetie. What would you expect after a couple of hours of non-stop humping - for him to be wide-awake, raring to continue at a stallion’s pace? … Please. … Let’s get real.”
Maria gazed at Michelle, and if a hard stare could kill, the tramp would have long been dead. “Do you have any ‘in-action’ photos, Michelle, dear? Or is what José claimed is true. You got him so drunk he passed out, and then set up these scenes in order to blackmail him?”
Michelle frowned, and swiftly snatched the photo out of Maria’s hands. “Do you really need to see detailed porno such as that?” she hissed angrily. “The fact is, José did sleep with me, and he’s the father of my child. If necessary, as soon as the baby’s born, I’ll have a blood test performed to prove it. ... Now wouldn’t you and him prefer to avoid the upcoming embarrassment or would you rather I start showing these around town in order to prove who my kid’s Dad is and that you’re nothing more than a stupid bitch who’s trying to defend him when it’s apparent he’s guilty.”
Maria rose to her feet, and proceeded toward Mantez’s front door. “You dare to call me a bitch, you scheming whore. We’ll just see who's the real dog around here.”
A couple of Chinese porcelain vases fell off their walnut stand and broke the moment Michelle’s front door abruptly slammed shut.
“I know José isn’t Michelle’s kid’s father,” Maria muttered under her breath as she headed down the walkway. “I just know he isn’t. … But then again,” she added, upon reaching the sidewalk in front of the Mantez’s landscaped lawn. “What if I’m wrong and he really is?”