by Force, Marie
My stomach tightens with nerves as I wonder what new disaster might have occurred. As I watch him, I realize it’s far too late to be worried about anything as simple as attachment. I’m falling in love with him. If I haven’t already completely fallen. His fate is now tied to mine, and whatever news he’s getting from Terri, I only hope it doesn’t make anything worse for him.
After a tense ten-minute conversation in which he does more listening than talking, he thanks Terri for calling and asks her to keep him posted. Long after he stashes the phone in the pocket of his basketball shorts, he continues to stare out the window.
“What’s going on?” I ask when I can’t wait another second to know.
“Apparently, Howard resigned as chairman of the board in New York to, and I quote, ‘spend more time with his family.’ After hearing from my lawyer earlier in the week, apparently Ginger wrote a letter to the remaining board members, telling them I had no idea who she really was or that she was married with children. The new board chair, a woman named Dr. Linda Adams, wants to talk to me on Monday. Terri thinks she’s going to ask me to come back.”
The news hits me like a punch to the gut. “Oh. Wow. That’s a lot.”
“I know.” Apparently sensing my immediate dismay at this turn of events, he comes to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Take a breath. Nothing is decided.”
Six days ago, I didn’t know he existed, and now . . . Now I wonder if I can ever again be truly happy if this man isn’t in my life. That’s a lot for six days, especially considering the five years that preceded them. “Maybe we should, you know . . .”
His brows furrow with concern that’s adorable on him, but then again, everything about him is adorable. “What?”
I lick my dry lips and force myself to look at him while trying to remain unemotional. “Take a step back until we know what’s going to happen?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to take a step back from you.”
“I don’t want that, either, but I also don’t want to be left crushed or heartbroken when you resume your life in New York.”
“Do you honestly think I’d just walk away like you never happened?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Let me put your mind at ease. Nothing will be decided without your input.”
“You have to do what’s best for your career, Jason. Your entire life is in New York—”
“Not anymore it isn’t.”
“You’ve known me for six days! You can’t make huge career decisions based on six days.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t.”
He nods in the second before he kisses me and once again wipes my brain clear of any thoughts that don’t involve more of him and the way I feel when he kisses me so passionately. With his arms tight around me, he walks me backward to my bedroom, where he comes down on top of me on the bed without missing a beat in the kiss.
I know I should stop kissing him and go back to discussing the fact that he can’t make career decisions based on a woman he’s known for six days. But since that woman is me and I’m crazy about him, I decide to keep kissing him while I can, even if I already feel heartbroken at the thought of him going back to New York.
He shifts from my lips to my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that have me shivering and dying for more. “How can you think you won’t factor into whatever happens next? Of course you will.”
“It’s been six days, Jason.”
“I knew in six minutes that you were special, that I wanted to know you and be with you. Every minute I’ve spent with you since then has only made me want more of you. So, yes, six days later, it does matter what you think about whatever happens next.”
I’m ridiculously moved, as much by the words as the kisses that set my body on fire.
He pulls back from me only to grab a condom, and then he’s back to remove my T-shirt and panties. “This,” he says as he enters me slowly and carefully, “is everything.”
“Not everything.”
“Every fucking thing.” He’s fierce and sexy and everything to me, too. Even as I tell myself to hold something back so there’ll be something left just in case this goes bad, I can’t do it. I give him everything I have as he makes love to me. And that’s what this is.
I know what love feels like, and it’s this all-consuming, must-be-with-him-or-I’ll-die feeling that overtakes common sense and every other kind of sense as it invades with the power of a tsunami, overtaking your life and reshaping it to fit his presence.
He feels it, too. I know he does. I can tell by the way he looks at me, by the way he kisses and touches me with so much reverence. I can tell by the way he values my opinions and listens to me when I talk to him. I can tell by the way he respects and welcomes Tony’s presence in my life. I can tell by the way he can’t be near me without touching me in some way.
Yes, it happened fast, but the end result is very similar to what took years to happen in the past.
Love is love, and this . . . This is love.
JASON
We end up spending the rest of Saturday in her bed. We talk about getting up to go do something or to have dinner at the restaurant, but in the end we order takeout, eat in bed, watch movies and make love. It’s the most perfect day and night I’ve ever had with anyone.
Carmen has been quieter than usual since the call from Terri opened the possibility of me returning, eventually, to New York. That news would’ve thrilled me a week ago, but now the thought of leaving Carmen has become unimaginable. The very real possibility exists that New York will ask me to come back and Miami-Dade will deny privileges in deference to its sister facility.
If that happens, I’ll have little choice but to return to New York to pick up my career and research already in progress. After meeting Carmen’s family, seeing how close she is to them and how tied she is to her community, I can’t picture her anywhere but here, not that I’d presume to make that choice for her. I just wonder if she could be truly happy living so far from her family and home.
These are the thoughts that run through my mind Sunday at noon as I drive us to her family’s restaurant. As always, the scent of Carmen’s hair and skin makes me crazy for more of her even after the decadence of the last twenty-four hours.
I downshift, slowing the car to a stop at a red light. As soon as the light changes and we’re moving again, I reach for her hand.
She looks over at me, a small smile curving her sexy lips. It’s not the usual smile that lights up her entire face. I haven’t seen that one since Terri called yesterday and gave Carmen reason to worry about where this relationship of ours may be headed.
I want to reassure her, to tell her she has nothing to worry about, but I won’t do that until I know for sure it’s true. If I end up going back to New York, I’ll ask her to come with me, even if I know that’s a long shot. She just landed her dream job at Miami-Dade.
Ugh, I wish it didn’t all seem so hopelessly complicated. All I want to do is celebrate the fact that I’ve found her, that I’ve fallen for her. I want to say fuck it to everything that isn’t her, even if I know I can’t do that with all the time and energy I’ve invested in my career. It was a huge deal for Carmen to get involved with me in the first place, and the last freaking thing I want to do is make her sorry she took a chance on me.
That’s my greatest fear—that I’ll make her sorry, and this interlude with me will turn out to be a setback for her.
I can’t let that happen, no matter what else might transpire.
We park in the lot outside the restaurant, which is currently closed to the public. Carmen told me that Sunday brunch is for family and friends, the only time Vincent and Vivian reserve for themselves in the hectic running of the restaurant. Carmen also prepared me for a curious crowd who’ll ask inappropriate questions about our relationship as well as their own medical issues.
I’m ready for whatever they’re dishing up. They’re important
to her, so they’re important to me. I’ll also be meeting Len and Josie, who are Tony’s parents, which makes this brunch an even bigger deal for all of us. It’s a good thing I don’t have issues with my stomach, because if I did, I’m sure it would be acting up as I follow Carmen in through the back door.
She’s wearing another of those wrap dresses, this one red with flowers on it, that accentuate her curves to delicious perfection. Her long hair is down and curly, and sky-high sexy-as-fuck black heels click on the terra-cotta tile floor. She’s dazzling, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. I’m wearing a pin-striped dress shirt and navy pants, even though she said I could wear jeans if I wanted to. Somehow jeans didn’t feel appropriate for this occasion. I feel like a boring accessory next to the magnificence that is Carmen.
Abuela is the first one we see. She’s coming out of the kitchen carrying a platter bigger than she is laden with food that has my mouth watering.
I step up to help her. “Let me take that for you.”
She hands it over to me and kisses Carmen and then me on the cheek I lower so she can reach me. “Thank you, honey. Take it into the dining room if you would.”
“Follow me.” Carmen leads the way into the cavernous dining room on the Cuban side of the house, which I didn’t really get a good look at the last time I was here. It’s much bigger than I expected.
“How do you decide which side brunch is on?”
“We rotate each week. Abuela and Nona decide on the menu and supervise everything.”
“I love that.” Their traditions are charming and endearing and make me wish I was part of a family like theirs.
At Carmen’s direction, I put the massive platter on a table in the middle of the big room. The second the food is out, people migrate toward us. I receive kisses from Vivian and Nona. I meet Vivian’s sisters, Vincent’s brother, Navarro cousins and Giordino cousins. I meet so many people I can’t possibly remember all their names.
Vincent presses a Bloody Mary into my hand as the women buzz around Carmen and me like flies on fresh game. I suppose that’s what I am—the fresh game, a thought that makes me smile.
Carmen looks at me, raises a brow in question.
“This must be what fresh game feels like.”
She laughs at that, her hand on my back letting me know she’s right there, by my side, as we’re swarmed by her family members.
I can tell something significant is happening when the buzzing dies down and the sea of women parts to admit newcomers.
Carmen’s hand leaves my back as she goes to greet the couple with hugs and kisses. The woman says something to Carmen that has her nodding and reaching for the older woman’s hand. She leads them to me.
“Jason, these are my in-laws. Josie, Len, meet my friend Jason Northrup.”
I shake hands with both of them. Carmen told me they’re younger than her parents, but they don’t look younger. They look at least ten years older. Both are mostly gray, and their eyes—brown for her and hazel for him—carry the weight of their tragic loss. “It’s so nice to meet you both.”
Josie cradles my hand between both of hers. “Likewise.”
Unlike his wife, Len doesn’t seem all that pleased to meet me, but he’s polite for the sake of his wife and Carmen. I try to put myself in his place, meeting the man his son’s widow is now seeing, and decide he can think whatever he wants to about me. My heart goes out to him. No one should have to go through what he and his family have endured. “I’m very sorry for the loss of your son.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Josie says softly. “Thank you. We enjoyed the story on the news about you. It was nice of you to give your time to the clinic.”
“It was a pleasure. I enjoyed it very much.” Which is absolutely true. I forgot what it’s like to deal with basic, easily solved medical concerns. I’ve become accustomed to the harder cases, the ones that are never easily solved and often have less-than-ideal outcomes.
After Len and Josie wander off to talk to other people, Maria approaches me, Bloody Mary in hand. She nods toward Tony’s parents. “How’d that go?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“They’re good people. If Carmen is happy, they’re happy. Don’t worry.”
“That’s good to know.”
“All these people . . . These are her people. We love her.”
“I know.”
“You aren’t going to hurt her, are you?”
“I’m going to try like hell not to.”
She nods, seeming pleased with my response. “It’s a very big deal that she brought you to brunch. I hope you realize that.”
“I do.”
Carmen joins us, and I put my arm around her, aware of everyone in the room watching us, getting a sense of how we are together. I want them to know I care about her.
“Everything all right?” she asks, her gaze encompassing me and Maria.
I give her a reassuring smile. “It is with me.”
“Me too,” Maria says. “The board of the clinic wanted me to pass along their thanks for what you did for us this week. They said you’re welcome to come back anytime you’d like.”
“I’ve got most of another week to kill before my meeting with the Miami-Dade board on Friday. I’m all yours if you’ll have me.”
“Yes, we’ll have you,” she says, laughing. “I’ll let them know, and I’ll see you in the morning.” She starts to walk away but turns back. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s amazing that you’re continuing to volunteer at the clinic when you got what you needed from us on the first day.”
“I genuinely enjoy it.”
“I know you do, and that makes you truly awesome.” To Carmen, she adds, “He’s a keeper, prima.”
Carmen curls her hands around my arm. “I agree.”
A powerful feeling of yearning comes over me, to be kept by her, to attend brunch at Giordino’s every Sunday, to be part of this amazing, loud, boisterous family. I can picture myself with Carmen years from now, still going strong with a couple of adorable, rambunctious curly-haired kids who look like their mother along for the ride as we join her family for Sunday brunch. Seven days after meeting her, I can see all that and so much more.
However, I need to figure out my own life before I can think about disrupting hers any more than I already have. So I tamp back the yearning and focus on today and the coming week, during which much will be decided.
I try not to think about that as I enjoy the Cuban-themed feast, featuring many of the dishes I had the first time I was here and a few new things. Carmen explains everything to me, and I try it all. I’ve yet to have anything here that isn’t delicious. We’re seated at a big horseshoe-shaped table next to Carmen’s parents and Nona. Abuela clearly relishes her role as the hostess.
Between courses, Carmen reaches for my hand under the table. The sense of connection I feel with her is powerful, so powerful in fact that only a few weeks after another woman upended my life in the worst possible way, I’m fully prepared to allow that to happen again.
Carmen is more than welcome to upend my life in any way she sees fit.
Everything would be different this time. I know that with a certainty I’ve never felt with anyone else.
“Are you okay?” Carmen asks.
“I’m great. You?”
“It’s nice to have you here.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“I know we can be a lot . . .”
“I was thinking how lucky you are to have such a great family. They must’ve been an enormous comfort to you.” I don’t have to say when. She knows what I mean.
“They were. They surrounded me and held me up in every possible way. Mami slept in bed with me for the first month. Maria took the second month. My cousin Delores, who we call Dee, took the third month. She’s one of the cousins that lives in New York now. I was never alone, unless I wanted to be. I’ve always been thankful for them, but never more so than I was then.”
“I can’t imag
ine what it would be like to have people like that, who swoop in and try to make it all better.”
“You didn’t have that in New York?”
I shake my head. “I have friends, most of them colleagues who think I’ve gotten a raw deal, but no one who swooped in the way your family would have.”
“You haven’t seen true support until you’ve seen it from this clan.”
“I’m sure it’s formidable.”
“They saved my life. Without them around to remind me of my many blessings, I’m not sure I would’ve survived losing Tony.”
“I’m very glad your life was saved so I would get to meet you and spend this time with you.”
“Me too.” She smiles, but it’s tinged with wariness that I wish I could do something about. However, until I know where I’m going to end up and whether we’re going to be able to make something of this, she’ll remain wary and guarded, and I can’t blame her for that.
After brunch, we go grocery shopping. As I watch her carefully choose produce, I discover yet another layer to this woman who has me completely fascinated.
“Why’re you staring at me?”
“I’m not staring so much as ogling you as you ogle the avocados.”
“Choosing avocados is very serious business.”
“So I’m learning.”
“They can’t be too firm, and you don’t want them too soft. There’s a sweet spot right in the middle.” She hands one to me. “Feel that? It’s perfect.”
While trying not to let my mind wander in lascivious directions, I take it from her and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll never look at avocados the same way again.”
“Have you ever actually bought one before?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Savage.”
I crack up laughing. “What are you going to make with those avocados anyway?”
“I put them on salads mostly. Avocado is an excellent source of good fat.”
“Is it now?”
“It is. And good fat helps to get rid of the bad fat.” She pulls a face. “I like to think of it like a Pac-Man in there, gobbling up all the fat I don’t need.” She puts four avocados in her basket.
