Chapter 11-Brawn
Micah Delgado stood in the receiving line as the guests arrived at Las Tierras.
In the line, Andres stood next to the Lady of the Lands, followed by Micah, Angel, and finally, Isabella and Catarina.
The front doors of the home were opened wide as the guests climbed the front stairs.
It was not the first time Rodrigo Escalante had visited Las Tierras, nor his daughter, who along with her chaperone, had spent a few holiday weekends at the farm getting to know Andres.
As far as Micah knew, the young woman never visited Andres’ flat in Medellin; if so, Micah questioned if she would still go through with the wedding.
However, Andres’ behavior was nothing new in the cartel's world, the leaders, or the sons of the Czars.
Rodrigo entered, shaking hands, and was followed by his daughter Roxana, a lovely woman who'd really grown into herself over the past four years.
Top-heavy, hippy, and demure in the same breath, she occupied very little space in a room, leaving a wide berth for Andres to be himself.
Micah had watched them interact over the years and fully understood that it was not the type of relationship he wanted for himself.
Next entered the Venezuelan Lancehead, Guillermo Gutierrez, a slithery character who lived much of his life in San Cristobal, which was right near the border of Colombia. He truly wanted the union between his daughter Lolita and any Delgado who would have her, and he felt Micah would be perfect.
“Micah!” Guillermo said with delight. “It is good to see you again, no? I am hopeful that by the end of the weekend, we will begin the process of unifying our families.”
“Perhaps,” Micah replied, looking over his shoulder at Lolita.
Today, unlike when he'd seen her at Perona de la Mar where she had been fully covered, she wore a low-cut dress, which exposed far too much of her breasts.
Such tactics didn't endear Guillermo to Micah since the man was pretty much attempting to serve his daughter up on a platter.
Instead of eyeballing her breasts, Micah's eyes were focused on her feet, which appeared too large for her five foot five-inch frame.
Since she was only sixteen, he prayed to Mary, the Mother of Jesus, that the young woman was still growing and would accumulate a bit more height to balance out the huge feet.
“Senor,” she said to Micah, presenting him her hand.
“Senorita Gutierrez,” he replied, bending slightly, maintaining eye contact, and pressing the hand to his chin. He had no intention of kissing her hand, especially since he didn't know her hygiene habits.
Laura Gutierrez, Lolita's mother, stopped in front of Micah, staring him in the eyes. She waited to see what the young man would do because she also wore a dress cut entirely too low, which Ryanne took notice of as well. Laura remained in front of Micah until he spoke to her.
“Senora Gutierrez, I do hope you enjoy horseback riding,” Micah said. “There is a mount perfect for your disposition.”
He said it with an arched eyebrow. The woman didn't know how to take it and offered a coy smile. He also considered her to be as slippery as her husband, and the idea of having to spend the rest of his life with her as a mother-in-law or a meddling grandmother immediately put him on guard.
In the background, a bell rang to announce that lunch was ready.
San Cristobal, in flight time, was only a half hour by helicopter and for that reason, he knew the Gutierrezes would not be staying the night, for which he was eternally grateful.
Micah sighed as he prepared himself to get through the afternoon as he took his seat at the table next to Lolita.
She gave him furtive glances throughout the meal as he toyed with his food.
He didn't have much of an appetite, especially with eyes trained on him.
A bout of thankfulness soared through him for Rodrigo Escalante monopolizing the conversation with talk of the wedding.
“Six months,” Rodrigo claimed. “In six months, we shall have the wedding to join our families! Roxana has spoken of nothing else, and the dress, Andres, will bring tears to your eyes. The ceremony shall be amazing!”
Andres swallowed hard as reality began to set in; in six months, he would be a married man.
His eyes went to Micah, who simply stared back at him, imagining all the things going through his brother's head.
The chameleon in Andres rarely showed, and Micah knew his brother was crafty as well as highly intelligent, although he was rather adept at playing the loveable rogue.
Lolita asked, “How do you feel about marriage?”
“It is how families are made,” Micah replied, saying no more.
Lunch ended, and guests began to gather in small groups for conversations.
Lolita couldn't wait for her opportunity to speak to Micah alone.
Alita stood a safe distance away, overseeing, but not overhearing.
Micah stood, his hands behind his back, bracing himself for a conversation that was more than likely going to make his ears bleed.
“Senorita,” he said as she approached.
“Senor,” Lolita replied.
“Micah,” he said in a lowered tone.
“Michael, a very nice name.”
“No, Micah.”
“Can I call you, Mike?”
“No, you cannot,” he said. “Micah, as in the biblical prophet. M-I-C-A-H. Micah.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, moving closer to him. He took a step back. “I saw you last year at Perona de la Mar, but you disappeared and didn't come talk to me.”
“You were fifteen years old,” he replied, “It would not have been appropriate.”
Her nose scrunched as she asked for understanding, “What do you mean?”
“I would seem like the creeper, seeking out a teenage girl for conversation,” he said.
“You're a teenager too! I mean, really, you're only two years older than me,” Lolita said, nearly whining.
“No, I am a man,” he said. “I walk through this world as a man. I live as a man. I work as a man. I have the duties and responsibilities of a man.”
“I assume, in your phrasing, it means you have the appetites of one as well?” Lolita asked, moving closer.
Micah took a step to the left. His eyes went to Alita.
With his left eye he winked twice, then rolled his shoulder, making his guard smile.
It was their private signal that a threat was in his presence, and she needed to arrive with force.
A look of amusement was on his face as he turned to look at the young woman who was interviewing to be his bride. Thus far, he was ready to yell, “Next!”
Lolita spotted the exchange. “Who is she?”
“My personal guard,” Micah said.
“Is she also your lover?”
“She is not.”
“Will she remain your guard if we are to be married?”
“Six years is a long time, Senorita,” Micah said. “The focus for you, if that shall be the case, is to complete your studies as you learn who I am, my interests, and what will be expected of you in your role as my life partner.”
She pouted. “Let me see your hands, please.”
He pulled his hands from behind his back and held them out for her inspection. She took them into her own, turning them over, looking at his palms. Lolita spotted the callouses on the fingertips as well as inside the palms. She looked up and into his eyes.
“You're really handsome,” she told him.
“Thanks,” he said, knowing she was fishing for compliments.
“Oh, you have nothing to say back to me?”
“Your dress is cut too low for a young woman of sixteen years,” he said.
“I was going for something like ‘You're lovely,’ or ‘I think you're pretty,’” Lolita said.
“Fishing for compliments makes you seem, what is the word, ah si, thirsty,” he said, looking away.
She released his hands, still remaining in front of him, demanding his attention. “My father said something is wrong with you, but you're really smart.”
“I have Asperger's.”
“Is that like bad headaches or something?”
“No, it means I am on the spectrum.”
“You have issues with your eyes?”
“Senorita, it means I am neurodivergent,” he said, knowing she wouldn't know what that meant, but hoping.
“I'm sorry, Micah; I don't know what it means,” she said honestly.
“It is a form of Autism. I am autistic, but in my life, I have learned to lean into it and use it to my advantage,” Micah said.
“Is that some form of being retarded?”
He was bored of her already. As certain as he was that her father had informed her of all of Micah’s achievements as well as his financial status, it panged him to know the man didn’t bother to inform his daughter of his medical condition. All of it felt...tiring.
“If so, you would marry a man with such a condition and bear him children, knowing, your children may be impacted by his mental state?” Micah asked, curious as to the plan.
She shrugged. “Would you take care of your wife and children, providing love and care if they came out like you or even normal?”
“I would,” he said, holding out the same hands she’d just held.
“These calluses and scars on my hands...I earned the brawn of my muscles working this land. I ride these fields and oversee the harvesting of crops with my father. I round up and move cattle when I am in Argentina with my grandfather. Anything I have I earned and so will my children.”
“Then, there you go,” Lolita said.
“Senorita,” he said softly, “in such a pairing, you would risk your happiness to be prepared to live a life with such a man?”