Inner Diva (11 page)

He grinned, shook his head, gave her hand a
squeeze. “Seriously?”

Her mind raced. Staring at his butt, kissing
him like there was no tomorrow, comments filled with sexual
innuendos. This type of behavior was definitely not like her.

Or, was it the new her? The one he nurtured
and helped blossom. What would she do if he actually took her up on
it? What if he dropped his water glass right now and dragged her
off to make love to her? Would she fight it?

Or go willingly?

She shook her head sadly. “No, I had a hard
time coming up with anything unique or interesting about my life. I
think I ended up telling them about my niece and nephew.
Bor-ring.”

He gave her a look of complete astonishment.
“You’re not boring. You’re mature.”

She made a pretend snoring sound. “Gee,
thanks.”

He looked confused for a moment. “That’s not
a cut-up. It’s good to be mature. In fact, I wish it hadn’t taken
me so long to get there myself.”

Whereas, Monica thought she’d always been
there, and had never experienced life in the fast lane.

“So, tell me about your niece and
nephew.”

She smiled. “Spencer and Mae, ages four and
one. The cutest kids in the world, yada yada yada. My sister Barbie
is their mom, and she’s married to a politician. My mom and I spoil
them as much as possible.”

He nodded.

“How about you?” she asked. “Do you have any
nieces or nephews?”

He delayed his answer just long enough to
clue Monica in there was a story there, and he was debating how
much he should tell her. “No, Luisa is the only sibling I have
left.” He rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand.

“Did you have a sibling who died?”

He nodded grimly, staring at their joined
hands. “I had an older brother who died when he was twenty. I was
eighteen when it happened, and Luisa was an infant.”

“ Wow, that’s quite an age difference between
siblings.”

He looked up at her. “You could say Luisa was
an ‘oops’ baby.” A slow smile formed on his lips. “But it didn’t
surprise me. My parents were so in love, it was unbelievable. Very
affectionate with each other. My papa called a family meeting when
they found out Mama was expecting. Neither Ricardo or I were
shocked.” He chuckled, then went silent.

Monica waited. She wanted to hear about
Ricardo’s death, but she didn’t know if he intended to open up to
her. She wouldn’t push it if he wasn’t ready.

The noises in the restaurant commenced around
them, making her feel sheltered in their booth.

“Ricardo won free tickets to a NFL football
game in Kansas City. He and Papa went. Mama and I were waiting for
them, holding dinner till they returned. But it got later and
later. At midnight we got a phone call.”

Monica felt a tightening in her chest.

“They were in a car accident and neither
survived. It was winter and there were icy patches on the highway.
Judging from the looks of the vehicle, they must’ve gone
quickly.”

Her mouth dropped open. She wanted to be
closer to him, to comfort him of this terrible event that
undoubtedly changed his life a decade ago. He continued to look at
the tabletop, not meeting her eyes.

“From then on, it was just me and Mama taking
care of Luisa. She got a job, then two. I finished high school and
she refused to let me work to help her out. She wanted me to focus
on education so I could get a decent job later. I didn’t like that
she had to work so hard, partly because I never saw her. Just like
now.”

The waitress arrived with platters of
appetizers and fresh drinks. In the midst of Carlos’ heartbreaking
story, food had lost its appeal.

After the waitress dropped off her load and
left, Carlos cleared his throat. “It hasn’t been easy. Trying to
raise a child in an untraditional family. Me and Mama – the odd
couple.” He shook his head.

“So, you’ve been a father figure to Luisa
since she never knew her own dad.”

He paused, considering. “No, Monica.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t make me sound like a saint. I haven’t
been, not by a long shot.”

Monica studied his face that had turned
suddenly tense. “But you took on the responsibility of helping your
mother raise her, at an age when you could’ve gone off on your
own.”

He nodded. “I’m there for Luisa, but not like
I should be.”

Monica shook her head, wondering at his
denial. “She loves you …”

He cut her off. “You only assume I was a
father figure to her because that’s what you would’ve done. Not
everyone is as responsible as you, Monica.”

Monica blinked, watching his stony face. What
had happened here? Obviously, they’d ventured into an emotional
subject matter. His tone made him sound annoyed. Had she crossed a
line asking him such personal questions on their second date?

“Carlos,” she said. He pulled his hands back
– intentionally or not, she wasn’t sure. “Tell me what’s going on.
Are you angry at me for asking you these questions? Or, am I just
being paranoid?” She tried a playful smile. “It’s been known to
happen.”

He sat across from her, his face tight, his
chest heaving a little. She gave him time to collect himself, while
she toyed with a potato skin from the appetizer platter.

“It’s not you.”

She looked up at him. “Then what …?”

He dragged his hands through his hair. He
shook his head. “I hate talking about this stuff.”

“What, about emotional stuff?”

He nodded. “How about we skip it?” He took a
sip of his drink. “How did you like the movie?”

“Carlos. . ..”

He huffed out a breath and locked his gaze in
on hers again. She nearly shuddered under the intensity of his
stare.

“I’m sorry. We can change the subject if you
want.”

Something like pain flickered across his
face, then disappeared. He gazed at her for a quiet moment, sizing
her up, then continued, “After my father and brother died, it was
just Mama and I raising Luisa. I couldn’t rely on anyone other than
Mama. After the loss, it seemed foolhardy to trust others. I needed
to protect my remaining family members from harm.”

“Sure, you did. And look – Luisa is a lovely,
bright, intelligent ten year old. You and your mother have done a
great job.”

“It is more Mama than me, believe me. There
were times I just couldn’t take it anymore. I mean, here I was,
barely out of school, with a young child relying on me at home. It
was almost like she was my own, but she wasn’t. I knew Mama needed
the help, and my papa had instilled in me a strong work ethic, a
sense of family duty. I wanted to be like him, I did. But I
disappointed Mama time after time. It was too much. I wasn’t the
man she needed me to be. I slipped back into my old ways. My
irresponsible ways. I partied, I stayed out with my friends. Dated
the wrong women. I didn’t care about the consequences. I wanted the
escape. Sometimes when I heard Luisa’s cry, I wanted to run, to
scream, to throw something.”

“But you were young! You literally lost your
youth because of what happened to your father.”

“My father would not be happy with some of
the choices I made. I know that. And I have to live with that for
the rest of my life. He was a much better man than I am. He
could’ve handled what life threw on him.”

Monica shook her head, her heart tight with
aching for him. “I don’t think you’re being fair on yourself. You
were a young man, a boy, really, when your father died, leaving
partial responsibility for a baby. Anyone in your position would’ve
had a hard time with that.”

“This is why I was angry when I found out
Mama had applied for a Big Sister to Luisa.”

She looked at him but he was busy rubbing his
forefinger over a spot in the tabletop. “Why? Who were you angry
at?”

He heaved a deep breath, but stayed
silent.

“At your mom?”

He shrugged. “She knows it’s difficult for me
to trust others after all we’ve been through. But she also knew
that with both of us working so much, Luisa needed another
influence in her life. I let her know my objections, but she thinks
it’s the best thing for Luisa.”

Monica sighed. It couldn’t have been easy for
him to open up and share all that with her. The bare emotion on his
face showed what this confession cost him.

“And I was mad at you.” It was a mumbled
confession.

Sure, she’d sensed it the first few times she
came over, but they had made strides to get over it. When they were
together, especially with their lips locked, the emotion he was
feeling toward her was not anger.

“I was mad at you for being the one my mother
chose to be Luisa’s role model, something I should’ve done for her.
But the more I see you with Luisa, how good you are with her and
how well she’s doing, I have to admit Mama was right. She made the
right choice.”

Monica smiled. “Thank you.” She reached
across the table and squeezed his hand, her heart clinched at his
honesty. Carlos was definitely not the typical
machismo
Latin guy. Just when she thought she knew him, he revealed
something new. This guy had layers, and she was only beginning to
peel them back.

“You’re a good person, Carlos. I appreciate
you opening up to me. I value honesty above all else.”

He stared at her a moment. “Did you get more
than you bargained for tonight?”

“No.”

“All the stories about my crazy family didn’t
scare you away?”

Monica laughed. “Crazy family? If you think
your family is crazy, wait till you hear about mine. Where do I
start?”

She launched into a story about her mom and
Barbie and she watched him begin to relax.

Carlos delivered Monica straight to her door
and gave her forehead a chaste kiss as a farewell. The chill air
made him shiver and he pulled his jacket closed.

Monica looked up at the sky. “Aren’t the
stars beautiful tonight?”

“Mon…”

“Yes?” She gave him such a beautiful smile it
made him ache.

“It’s late and we both have work in the
morning.” Besides, he’d made enough of a fool of himself for one
evening, thank you.

“Would you like to …?” she began, but he cut
her off with a shake of his head. The worst thing they could do now
after his emotional rambling tonight was fall into bed. Never in
his worst day did he want a woman to make love to him out of pity.
Tonight, after his confessions to Monica, it wouldn’t surprise him
if that’s what happened.

“It’s late. Listen, I’ll call you in the next
few days, okay?”

Creases of disappointment formed between her
eyebrows. He needed to get out of there, quick. He gave her a wave,
a good-bye and headed back to his car. As he drove away, he punched
the dashboard. The pain in his fist mirrored the ache in his heart.
He deserved to feel pain, payback for the stunt he pulled tonight.
He’d developed a case of “diarrhea of the mouth,” as his buddies
used to say.

He’d told the story of his father and brother
before and although it had happened a lifetime ago, it still packed
a punch each time he told it. The story stopped any pleasant
conversation cold in its tracks. Yet, he wanted her to know his
past even though it wasn’t rosy. And he knew if he’d stopped there,
the evening could probably have been salvaged. They could’ve
ordered another drink, finished the food and moved on to topics
less morbid.

But he had to push it. He had to tell her why
he was angry about her being Luisa’s Big Sister. Or, at least, he
told her the beginning. He hadn’t revealed the full extent of his
concerns. He hadn’t told her about Angela and how her desertion had
cemented his need not to rely on others. But he had pushed it over
the line. She knew enough about his past, his poor decisions and
his inability to be the man his father would’ve wanted, to know how
screwed up he was.

Monica deserved better than him. She said she
valued honesty above all else, and yet, he was only partially
honest with her. A man worthy of Monica wouldn’t whine and moan
about mistakes he made in his past. He’d move past them, stronger.
The glow of their new relationship fresh in her eyes, she had
defended him for his immaturity, assumed the best of him.

What will she think of him when she finds out
the whole truth? Would he ever find the strength to tell her and
face the disappointment in her eyes? Face the possibility of her
walking away?

Could he survive the loss of another woman
who meant something to him?

He arrived at his house and shut off the
motor, sitting for a moment before leaving the car. Dating Monica
was a new frontier, a fresh start. He was sure about that.

But hell, he had no idea what he was
doing.

Chapter Seven

Carlos told Monica he’d call her in the next
few days, but he didn’t. Then, she received a suspicious-sounding
phone message from Luisa, saying she was joining Sunflower Girls at
school and their first meeting was Thursday, so Monica couldn’t
come over on her normal weeknight. She called Luisa Thursday
evening to find out how Sunflower Girls was (it was fun) and also
to inquire if they were still on for their outing on Saturday.
Luisa assured her she was looking forward to their day at the
school carnival.

Monica hung up feeling relieved. It was the
first time Luisa had ever cancelled with her and it sounded
legitimate. In other words, she wasn’t lying to cover up for her
brother insisting she couldn’t spend time with Monica anymore.

Deep breath. That thought was positively
paranoid and even Monica had to admit it.

On Saturday afternoon, the much-awaited
Parkside School Carnival arrived. Monica climbed the steps to the
Garcia house with a bit of apprehension. It had been over a week
since her date with Carlos and she hadn’t heard a word from him.
Would he be here today? How would he greet her – with a cold
shoulder or a warm smile? The suspense was nearly over.