Of course, to get to the rehearsal dinner, I had to make it through the rehearsal. If I kept my eyes away from Sam, maybe I would survive unscathed. Already, my stomach was a mess of nerves. So was Danita’s, though she did her best to keep up that tough-girl exterior. I toyed with the idea of asking Molly’s stepmother for a Xanax, something Dani and I could split.
“Kaye?” Hector asked. “Look, it’s going to be okay. Remember why you asked me to be your date?”
“Yeah.” I smiled in spite of my nerves, recalling my sobbing phone call to Hector. “You said we’d show ‘dickhead’ what he was missing. Give your dear friend Kaye, with the pathetic love life, a wonderful time and all that.” Danita glanced up from her magazine and scowled at me. I stared at the black-and-white striped wall just beyond her head.
His tone grew sober. “Mamacita, you know your love life doesn’t have to be nonexistent, right? I’m single and fairly decent to look at…”
“I know, Hector.” Molly’s hand squeezed my shoulder. My eyes darted up, seeing if she’d heard. Yup, she’d heard.
“Just think about it, okay? No pressure.”
“I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.”
“That’s all I’m asking for. And, Kaye?”
“Yeah, Hector?”
“Saint Peter stood at the gate when Hippie Tom walked up…”
When I finished my call with Hector, I felt three sets of eyes on me. Danita fumed. Molly worried. And the poor junior bridesmaid was confused.
“Okay, I think it’s time for some discussion, ladies.” Molly checked my nearly-dry nails, then dragged me from my seat and across the slick wood floor. I plopped into the pedicure chair next to Danita, where she soaked her feet. Angel’s little sister scooted up a chair and leaned in, sensing good gossip.
Danita gave her pre-teen sister-in-law a piercing look. “Not a word or so help me, I tell your mother about that text you accidentally forwarded to me.” The girl blanched and nodded.
“Dani, tell Kaye about Sunday night,” Molly whispered. A knowing look passed between my two friends.
“Wait, after the camping trip?” I asked. “What happened?”
Dani leaned forward, her eyes shining. “Okay, but keep this on the down-low. I wasn’t supposed to hear it, and the only reason Molly knows is because there was something about you being a lesbian that totally confused me, so I had to ask her if she had any clue what they were talking about.”
“Dani! Who was talking? I’m dying here.”
“Sunday night I was in the living room digging through old photo albums for the slide show tomorrow. There’s this vent in the corner, right? So when people are in the basement, you can hear their conversations. Well, Samuel and Caroline just happened to be in the basement, having a pretty heated argument.”
“You were eavesdropping.”
Danita puffed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. Caroline was really working Samuel over with drivel about you not being a lesbian, I don’t know. That part lost me. But here’s the good part. Caroline accused him of bringing you in on some book project because he just wants to —” she covered the junior bridesmaid’s ears “— get into your pants—exact words. Jesús, María y José, did that make Samuel angry. He fired back, saying—get this—his sex life isn’t any of her concern.”
Dani smugly sat back in her pedicure chair, hands perched on the armrests like she sat on a throne. Molly beamed at me, waiting for my reaction. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. If Samuel told Caroline to stay out of his sex life, then that would mean…
Yes! Eat it, harpy. A toothy grin spread across my face as I pumped the air with my fists. It meant Samuel and Caroline weren’t together, or at least they weren’t Sunday night. Even if they’d sorted out their issues—which now seemed to pertain to Caroline’s accusations—it meant their romance was definitely on shaky ground.
“There’s more,” Dani rapidly continued. “So Caroline fires back that instead of spending his time writing something worthwhile, he pours all of his energy into a foolish book about dismal little kids with guitars and mommy complexes. After she said that, it got really quiet. I could just see that furious look spread over Samuel’s face—the one where he purses his lips together like he’s just sucked a lemon? And then he told her, really low, to quit cheapening relationships. ‘I know I’ve hurt you, Caro,’ he said, ‘but let me be clear. If you go after her again I will drop your agency so fast, you won’t have time for damage control. And with the movie publicity on the horizon, that would be extremely unfortunate for your firm.’”
Molly gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “No way! You didn’t mention that!”
Danita shrugged. “Caroline flounced off to Raleigh to see Togsy, supposedly to give them both time to cool down. But I think she just threw the guy out there to make Samuel jealous.”
“Who’s Togsy?” Molly and I asked at the same time.
“Caroline’s ex-boyfriend.”
I frowned, something clicking with Sofia’s words, earlier…friend of a friend. “Surely not writer Togsy? From Colorado University?”
“Maybe. I don’t know, I didn’t ask. But apparently they were together for years. Of course, now she’s back and on best behavior,” she groaned. “Two more days and then she leaves for New York, thank God.”
Still leaving with Samuel, though, I silently added. The others might be tolling the victory bell over Samuel and Caro’s falling out, but I was hesitant to start kissing people in the streets. After all, Caroline had since unveiled those exquisite portraits. If that wasn’t a big “I’m sorry,” I didn’t know what was.
Molly snapped her fingers. “You know that Friday lunch several weeks ago, when Kaye implied she had a date?” I rolled my eyes while Dani eagerly wagged her head. “Well, apparently Samuel called Santiago that night to ask if he’d seen you around town.”
I struggled to remember. “That was the night he and Caroline showed up at the Lyons Café, when I was there with Jaime. They were arguing…”
Molly squealed. “Don’t you get it, Kaye? Samuel was trying to track you down on your ‘date.’ That man is still head-over-heels in love with you, I’d bet my life on it. Tell her, Dani.”
“Molly, he’s my brother. I just can’t—”
“It was kind of apparent Saturday night at the campfire,” Molly continued. “The way he looked at you when you were playing guitars?”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold on just a minute.” I jumped up from the pedi-chair, waving my hands to ward off my friends. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, girls. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but this isn’t. I can’t…I can’t hope like this, not with our history and everything that’s gone down between us.”
I pointed a shell-pink nail at them.
“Molly, the only thing Dani’s eavesdropping tells me is that Samuel is willing to stand up to Caroline for a friend. Which is very honorable, but it doesn’t mean he’s in love with me anymore. Let’s not bring up that he brought a girlfriend home to meet his family, in the first place.”
“But things can change, Kaye.”
“And earlier on the same camping trip, you hinted I should go for Hector. So whatever you guys see in Samuel, I’m guessing you’re skewing it out of proportion because of this bit of gossip. Bottom line: if Samuel was still in love with me, I’d see it better than any of you, plain and simple.”
Molly shook her head. “Not necessarily. What if you’re the one with skewed vision?”
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to squelch the ache. “Molly. I’ve made love to this man countless times. I know what it looks like when he wants me.” The junior bridesmaid’s eyes widened, and I reined myself in. “I don’t see it there, anymore. Heck, he doesn’t even know me anymore. So please, just…stop.”
“He still knows you,” Dani said firmly, “even if he doesn’t know everything about you.”
A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I sank into the pedicure chair and rested my h
ead in my hands, waiting for the dizziness to pass. I needed sleep, badly. I gazed up at Danita, feeling guilty for letting my personal grievances intrude on her wedding.
“Dani…” She cut me off with a surprisingly understanding smile.
“Go get some rest, manita. You’ve been there for me since you were a toddler, and you’re allowed to take five every now and then. Just do one thing?”
I nodded, gathering up my purse and sandals. I should have waited to hear what she wanted before agreeing.
“Tell Samuel what happened when you found him in New York City. That can be your wedding present to me—along with the crystal stemware set you and Molly knocked off the registry.” She winked, drawing a little laugh from the last bit of humor in the air. Of course Dani diligently watched her registries online.
“I’ll do it,” I sighed.
“That means tonight, Kaye, if it’s going to be a wedding present. Maybe then you can both get some sleep.”
My mother was on the back acre weeding her young squash plants, so the farmhouse was quiet when I staggered through the door. The rooms were stuffy. I adjusted the thermostat, closed the blinds, and sank into the old vine-print couch. But, once again, sleep wouldn’t come. Dread pulsed through my veins as I sorted through what I’d tell Sam about New York. Finally, I hopped up from the couch and pulled out a spiral notebook. Carpe diem, and all that.
For a full hour, I jotted down everything I could recall about that time, from finding his address to finding his note in my backpack, the smells, and feelings, and fears. That way, when I almost certainly began to unravel, I would have something to simply hand him.
I folded the notebook paper and slid it into an envelope, feeling better now that I’d gotten it out of the way. Curling into my mother’s couch, I crashed.
Two hours of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. And then I tossed fitfully, starting awake as brown, then black hair spilled over Samuel’s pillow. Other times, there were flashes of Samuel dead on a lush, Tamaulipasian roadside. The Dream just had to make an appearance right after I’d committed to telling Samuel about my excursion into his East Village Den of Sin.
But this time I wasn’t the girl at the door. I was the woman beneath him, feeding his addiction…
Me…moving hands to his sticky, muscled back, dragging along his spine, tangling in his thick hair and taking what was someone else’s. Me, pulling his face closer, breathing in the rim of white powder above his lip.
The girl in the doorway…a slight, mousy thing, no more than twenty. Jeans, sweatshirt, no makeup. Backpack resting next to her feet where she’d dropped it. A Post-it note fluttering from her fingers to the ground. Too thin, too sickly.
Me…smacking his shoulder, getting his attention, pointing at her…“Who’s that?”
Him…his entire body going rigid above me, caging me between him and the twisted sheets as if he could hide me, cold eyes riveted to the girl at the door…so much anger for this out-of-place, pale-faced person standing in his room.
A black-haired woman helping the girl up.
Why were his eyes so cold? Something was wrong with him…so wrong…
An annoying buzzing vibrated against my cheek. I batted at it, then realized it was my phone. I answered.
“Sam?” I groaned, still asleep.
A laugh. “No, hermosa, it’s Hector. Hey, where are you? Everyone’s waiting at the Cabrals’ place.”
I sat up, running my free hand through my snarled hair. “Crap! What time is it?”
“Five forty-five. Were you asleep or something?”
I shook the remnants of the disturbing dream from my system. “Argh!” Stumbling out of bed, I tore into my closet, peeling clothes from my clammy body. “Yeah. Geez! Tell Danita I’m so, so sorry. I must have silenced my phone.”
“Hold on, Kaye.” I heard muffled speaking in the background, then Hector’s voice. “Yeah, she’s fine. You were right, princesa. Tell Cabral to get the hell out of his roadster and a grip on his pansy-ass…sorry Sr. Cabral.”
I grabbed my body mist and sprayed myself down with apple-scented stuff. Hector was moving—I heard a door slam.
“Mamacita, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you be ready?”
“Hector, I can be ready in five.” I pulled my orchid-colored sundress over my head, adjusting it until it draped correctly—snug high waist, flowing skirt. I dragged a comb through my hair and spritzed it, then brushed my teeth, touched up my makeup, and put on my pearl stud earrings. Ack! Where was the bouquet I’d made from the bridal shower ribbons?
Just as Hector rang the doorbell, I yanked on my sandals and at the last minute, grabbed a light sweater in case the creek got cold. Crap, the letter. I stuffed it into my purse and took a deep breath. Five fifty-four—yes.
I opened the door to my date.
“Sleeping Beauty, hot as always.” Hector kissed my cheek. He looked cool and easy in khakis and an untucked, white button-up. “Let’s go show Cabral what real fun looks like.”
“Sounds like a plan, Prince Charming.” I grinned. After my week, I was ready to unwind.
Chapter 18: Waterfall
A sudden, vertical drop, often over six feet high,
that culminates in turbulent and treacherous
water below.
Hydraulic Level Five [working title]
Draft 3.18
© Samuel Caulfield Cabral
The Farmer’s Front Porch
HEAVY BLACK CLOUDS obscure the sliver of a Halloween moon as neighborhood children make their way from lighted door to lighted door, crunching over dry leaves. Soon, Bear Creek is awash in witches, mice, superheroes. Caulfield muses how the streets resemble a nostalgic Norman Rockwell painting, glazed in the muted grays of his mountain home. And in the forefront of his Americana portrait is his “girl next door.” Caulfield tucks away her image for his collection, another moment of happiness encapsulated by amber.
Aspen sits on the crumbling front steps of her mother’s farmhouse on the edge of town, a large plastic witch’s cauldron filled with fun-sized candy resting in her lap. They just finished decorating her porch with carved orange pumpkins and spider webs draped between railings. Aspen even procured a pair of old jeans and a work shirt from Mrs. Trilby, stuffing them with hay to make a headless scarecrow. Caulfield hits play on the scary sound effects tape and takes his post next to his friend, “accidentally” brushing his thigh against hers. But the autumn wind is brisk tonight, and Aspen doesn’t seem to mind the extra warmth.
This year, he and Aspen go with pun costumes. She is resplendent in flower leis, grass skirt, and coconut bra (worn over a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans), and he has borrowed Esteban’s boxing gloves.
“A hula girl and a boxer?” A little cowboy scoffs as he holds out his candy bucket.
“No, we’re Hawaiian Punch,” Aspen says matter-of-factly, as if their attempt at humor is the most obvious thing in the world.
The kid sneers. “That’s stupid.”
Aspen digs deep into the bottom of her chocolate pile and tosses a half-crushed packet of Smarties in the kid’s candy stash. She winks at him as he stomps down the stairs, calling out, “you forgot to say trick-or-treat!” to his retreating back. Scaring the piss out of neighborhood children is one of her most beloved Halloween pastimes.
Por Dios, Caulfield wants to kiss her.
She peels a wrapper from a chocolate bar, splits it, and offers half to Caulfield. He absently pops it in his mouth, watching Aspen’s warm lips close around the chocolate between her fingers, melting it as she drags it into her mouth.
Earlier that afternoon, Caulfield took Aspen on their first date. Only he was too much of a coward to actually inform her it was a date.
“Do you want to grab a bite to eat before the kids make the rounds?” he eagerly asks after school is out for the day. He plans to buy her an early dinner at the Hungry Bear Café because it is always done up like a haunted house to mark the holiday. Her mother won’t see it as a date,
will she? Mierda, he should have just asked her out the minute she turned fourteen, and they could have doubled with Esteban and Maria to a movie. But taking her on a date date means kissing her goodnight. What if he sucks at it? What if he kisses her and she hates it? What if she just wants to be his friend?
An after-school date, though…
“Um, sure.” She digs into her coin purse for a quarter. “Lemme call my mom and let her know I’m just out with you. She’ll freak out if I don’t.”
Just out with you. As in, just hanging out with my old friend, Caulfield.
He ogles her hips swaying toward the pay phone in the school lobby, ignoring students as they jostle by him in the hallway or high-five him on their way out the door.
She doesn’t know it is a date. He’ll have to be blunt. Now he has to kiss her afterward. He’ll never sleep another night until he does, for all the visions of that soft mouth tearing through his dreams, making him ache with his need to put his lips on hers.
Aspen’s first official date hadn’t been with him, and Caulfield feels like a chicken-shit for letting her first anything not be with him. Yes, it is selfish. The minute Aspen turned fourteen, Esteban’s little brother swooped in like a vulture and whisked her away to a bonfire with his friends. The kid and Aspen shared a blanket at the bonfire. They held hands. She let him buy her ice cream afterward. She never let him buy ice cream for her.
Caulfield has been on dates before, too. Nothing special, a parade of poodle girls with permed hair stiffened by hairspray, hell-bent on scoring quality backseat time. A couple of girls try. One misses and hits her forehead on his car window. He even took Maria’s friend—cherry ChapStick girl—to the Homecoming dance just two weekends ago, but only because Aspen flat-out refused to go with him.
“The upper-classmen make me nervous, especially the Hispanic girls,” she admits. “They call me an ugly gringa.”
“They are ugly for saying that.”
“They don’t like how you hang out with me. Besides, you’re the big man, friends with everyone. You wouldn’t want to spend the evening entertaining a freshman.”
Hydraulic Level Five Page 27
