Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 (10 page)

I feel the sting of tears coming to my eyes. I’m a crier. Always have been. Marco rolls his eyes and ignores it when I cry. Gabe said it means I’m a better person than him. I sure as hell don’t feel like the better person right now.

“I get it now – the flaw in my plan,” he continues. “You never
told
me you loved me. I assumed, and like with most assumptions – well, you get it.”

The first tears roll down my face. If he only knew how right his assumptions were. That I love him this very moment, that I have loved him since the first time he touched me, that I have never loved any man the way I love him.

I sniff, keeping my eyes on the dirty concrete floor beneath me. “Gabe. None of that matters. Don’t you see? You only knew one tiny part of me in Afghanistan. I’m from Floresville, Texas and my family is from Mexico. I’m not Alexis, the adventurous aid worker, not really. I’m Alexis, the good daughter of a Hispanic Catholic family. You could never understand what that means. They could never understand
you
. But Marco? He knows me, he knows where I come from, he knows my family, and they know him.”

I see his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him. His knuckles are white.

His voice is quiet and strained when he replies. “I’d give anything to know your family and where you come from, Alexis. You’ve never given me the chance. But you’re wrong that I don’t know
you
. You aren’t some sort of file cabinet full of folders labeled ‘aid worker,’ ‘Hispanic daughter,’ ‘college student.’ You’re a woman – a whole, brilliant, soulful woman who happens to also be an aid worker and a Hispanic daughter and a college student. Those are outfits you don when you go out in the world. Underneath all that is the naked, pure, essential Alexis, and I know her, dammit. Better than anyone else in this world. I know
you
, Alexis.”

He turns back to his laundry and starts tossing items into the washing machine. Trying to see through the water streaming from my eyes, I shove all my shit in one machine, jam the quarters in, and flee the room, pursued by a truth I might never be able to outrun.

Gabe

Allá donde fueres, haz lo que vieres.

When in Rome, do as the Romans.

I
spend the rest of my weekend dicking around with my bike and thinking about what Alexis told me. I know it’s more complicated than she said, but I also know she’s starting to let me in on what went wrong. She didn’t agree with me when I said she didn’t love me. She said I don’t know her, which is bullshit, but it’s bullshit I can deal with. As long is there is some sort of action I can take, I’ll stay in this fight. Without realizing it, she’s given me new ammo and I’m back in the ring.

My first stop Monday morning is Ramon.

“You’re here kinda early,
guëro
,” he says as I walk into the office with a box full of
empañadas
from the bakery down the street that I know he frequents.

“Brought you some breakfast, man.”

He eyes me suspiciously. “You’re not getting a raise,” he grumbles through a mouthful of apple and pastry dough.

I hold my hands up. “Not asking for one. Just some advice.”

He leans back in the reclining desk chair while I sit down on the folding metal bitch of a chair across from him.

“All right. What’s up?”

I scratch my head. I’m not really the type to ask for advice about women. Until Alexis, I knew what I needed to about chicks – how to get them in my bed and keep them out of my heart. After Alexis, I returned to that same storehouse of knowledge. But
with
Alexis? It’s a different event, and at this point, I’m barely treading water.

“There’s this girl,” I say.

Ramon sits up and leans his elbows on the desk. “Ha!” he bursts out. “Benji told me you’d met some girl from down here. I’ve been waiting for this day,
amigo
.” He grins and slaps the desk with his hand.

I shake my head. “Jesus, you’re as annoying as your cousin, you know that?”

“Just get to it, white boy. You need advice on how to handle your woman? I’m the man.”

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly the kind of woman you ‘handle.’ And for the record, I do just fine with the ladies. Better than fine. Ask Benji, I’m a fucking legend in certain parts of the Middle East.” I give him a big grin. Ramon snorts. “But this one is, well… She’s a special circumstance.”

He nods but keeps his ever-loving mouth shut for once.

“I met Alexis in Afghanistan, and everything was great. But after we got back, she didn’t want anything to do with me, and now that I’m here, she’s telling me I don’t know the real her or some shit. She says that I don’t know her family and where she comes from, so we can’t be together.”

“Uh huh,” he says, looking at me shrewdly. “And what is this Alexis’s last name?”

I sigh. “Garcia.”

“Uh huh,” he says again, leaning back in his chair once more. “You really stepped in it, didn’t you,
guëro
?”

“I don’t know, man. We met during a war. It was me and her. It was great. She never said anything about her family being a problem. And she said she was going to…” I stop. Now I have to tell him she also has a boyfriend. I’m looking like the world’s biggest damn chump.

“Spill it all.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“She had – has – a boyfriend. He’s from Floresville, and they grew up together. When I met her, she said she was done with him, but when I got here, I found out she’d come home and gone straight back to him.”

Ramon sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Oh, kid, what did you go and do?”

I sit and look at my lap.
Fucking fell in love, that’s what
.

“Okay. Here’s the deal. Her parents born here?”

“No, Mexico.”

“It gets better and better. Look,
ese
, you gotta realize that you’re dealing with the daughter of immigrants. They could have been here five years or twenty-five, but they were raised in Mexico. And now they’ve got the American daughter and they’re going to be holding on to her tight as hell because she’s about to drift away from what they know. She already speaks different, looks different, has different views. It’s fucking terrifying for some of those parents.”

“And her dating a white guy isn’t going to help, right?” I sum up.

He nods. “But it’s more than that. If it were just that, you could go meet them, give them some of your charm, and probably get by, but this is about preserving the culture. Your girl in school here?”

“Yeah, UT.”

“Shit. So you got a family who’s here to better themselves, but they’re trying to make sure she remembers where the hell they come from. You got to understand, for Hispanics, family is everything, bro.
Vecinos
, the Catholic Church, that stuff is what’s most important in life. The way they cook Sunday dinner after Mass, the cousins who sleep over every Friday night, the
Quinceañeras
and
Las Posadas
at Christmas. No white kid could ever understand that, and he wouldn’t raise their grandkids in that world. That’s what her parents fear, man. Their daughter taking off with someone like you and forgetting who she is.”

I feel my heart sink in my chest. Suddenly it all sounds a lot more complicated than I imagined.

“So what do I do? I mean, I can’t become Hispanic, man. I grew up in Northern Cali, and there were plenty of Hispanics at my school, but my mom’s from Iowa and I haven’t been to church in ten fucking years. We never talked to our neighbors, and I’m an only child. I know nothing about being Hispanic in South Central Texas.”

“No shit.” He looks at me with one eyebrow raised.

I slide back in my chair. We have a bit of a stare down until finally I say, “So, you going to help me or what?”

“I can try, but goddamn, boy, you can’t expect a miracle. I mean, if it was just the family, but she’s got a boyfriend too?”

“It’s all part of the same fucking problem. I know she doesn’t love him. He’s who her parents picked for her and she won’t go against them.” I have to believe what I’m saying or I’ll never be able to survive seeing her and Marco together.

“You really don’t want to give this one up, huh?” he asks as he reaches for the phone on the desk and starts punching in numbers.

“It’s not even an option, man.”

“Well then, welcome to Latino 101, bro – Hey, baby,” he says into the phone. “I’m bringing somebody home for dinner. Make
carnitas
, yeah?”

Fuck.

After a hellish, long day at work and then my first of what I fear will be many family dinners at Ramon’s house, I pull up to the apartment building and take the Tupperware full of Tina’s
carnitas
out of the saddlebag on my Harley. I have to admit, being under Ramon’s thumb for twelve straight hours was almost worth it for his wife’s cooking. The leftovers will feed me breakfast and lunch tomorrow, and that makes for one happy mechanic.

I stand up from alongside the bike just as Beth’s car pulls into the spot next to me. Alexis must have borrowed it because she’s driving and gives a small wave, holding up a finger in a
wait just a minute
gesture. She turns the car off, gathers a bunch of crap off the front seat, and climbs out.

She’s wearing a pair of denim cut-offs that cup her ass like custom-made gloves. Her white tank top is ribbed and dips low under her arms, showing off even more of her smooth golden skin. For a moment, I’m mesmerized by that little swatch of skin – its texture that looks like dull satin, how warm it would be, maybe damp with her perspiration, what it would feel like gently giving under my tongue while I lick my way from her hip to her shoulder. The semi I’m sporting within a few seconds makes me glad for the loose work jeans I still have on.

“Hi,” she says as she turns to face me.

“Hey, babe,” I answer softly.

She smiles awkwardly, and suddenly I felt like there’s hope. Hope for me. Hope for the world. Hope for love.

“What are you carrying?” she asks as she leans over my bike to look at the leftovers container.

“
Carnitas
,” I answer, holding it up for her to inspect.

She looks at me and squints. “Uh, what?”

“Tina’s famous
carnitas
. I was just over at my boss’s house for dinner.”

“Seriously? Who’s your boss?”

“Ramon Delgado. Ramon’s Repairs over on South Congress? Yeah, I just spent two hours being grilled about Afghanistan by every damn
compadre
and cousin he’s got. Must have been twenty-five people there. Luckily Tina kept the food coming so it was all good.”

I think back to the chaos that was family dinner at Ramon’s. As the only child of a single mom, I’m not used to all that. Old people, kids, babies, dogs, the doorbell ringing nonstop. But amazingly, I liked it once I settled in. I could see how a big family is there for you. When Ramon mentioned he was having trouble with a toilet downstairs, his uncle the plumber headed right down to fix it. When Tina ran out of some spice she needed for the food, the niece who’d just gotten her driver’s license went to the store to pick up more. It was pretty cool to see how a lifetime of relying on one another turned them into a well-oiled machine.

I can see how surprised Alexis is about where I spent my evening. It gives me the opening I’m looking for. “You eaten yet? Come on in and I’ll get you a plate of this stuff. It seriously fucking rocks.”

She stiffens and I feel my heart take a tumble down to my knees. My big chance is about to take a hike. I have to move fast.

“C’mon, we all know how you get when you don’t eat.” I give her a little wink. “I promise I won’t bite. Hell, leave the door to the apartment open if you want. But I’ll feel really guilty if you’re upstairs alone all teary with your blood sugar crashing and I’ve got this great food sitting here in my fridge.”

She finally cracks a smile. “Okay,” she says. “It does smell really good. And you’re right. I haven’t eaten since about eleven this morning.”

“Jesus, when will you ever learn? Come on, babe. Let’s get you fed.”