Havana Sunrise

by Kymberly Hunt

  Spanish, Ethiopian, Mayan, even Egyptian. It was appalling, but she was having a hard time resisting the urge to stroke his rumpled, curly black hair; just the thought of tracing her finger lightly over the wickedly sensuous curve of his mouth was making her dizzy.

  “Are you still planning on leaving tonight, Mr. Marquez?” She could not resist teasing him.

  “What? Are we back to Mr. Marquez again?” He sounded genuinely disappointed.

  “Julian,” she corrected herself.

  “Believe it or not, I actually can be rational sometimes. I figure if I can’t even stand up, then I won’t be going anywhere,” he said.

  “That is a very logical conclusion, and a wise one I might add.” She flashed him a smile.

  “Are you always this pleased when you’re proven right?”

  “What makes you think I’m pleased?” she asked.

  “Because it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You really should do it more often.”

  She felt relief upon observing that his eyes were about to close and she was not going to have to respond to that comment. She was also aware that he still had his jeans on under the ridiculous hospital gown, but she was not about to remind him to get undressed. Ten minutes of her time spent with Julian Marquez was more than sufficient. Evelyn would have to deal with anything else. He was her patient.

  Leaving the room, Nicole nearly collided with a woman about to enter. “Excuse me,” she said automatically, catching her breath.

  The woman glared at her and firmly took hold of the door. She was medium sized, probably in her late forties, with bleached blond, permed hair, and she was wearing a gray linen suit and heels that were much too high.

  Well, excuse me for living, Nicole thought. The near collision was more the woman’s fault than her own. What was she doing there anyway? “Visiting hours are over,” Nicole reminded her curtly.

  “I am not a visitor,” the woman retorted indignantly.

  I don’t care who you are, you don’t belong here, Nicole was tempted to say, but she bit her tongue. Diplomacy was always best. “If you’re part of Mr. Marquez’s entourage, there has been a change of plan. He is staying.” She realized that it sounded as if she were gloating.

  The woman ignored her and entered the room. The door closed abruptly behind her. Nicole shook her head and looked questioningly at the guard who’d done nothing to intervene.

  “That’s his sister,” the man informed her, displaying a foolish smile.

  Sister? Nicole thought. They bore no resemblance whatsoever.

  A quick glance at her watch revealed that the time with Julian had cut into her break. Almost all of it had been spent baby-sitting a patient who wasn’t even hers. There were only a few precious minutes left.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Leaving the hospital two days later than he’d intended, and coming home without seeing Nicole again, had been a big disappointment for Julian. He realized that she was deliberately avoiding him, but he couldn’t understand why. Equally baffling, though, was his own obsession with her. He tried to psychoanalyze himself, reasoning that it was only because she wasn’t throwing herself at his feet that he found her intriguing, and maybe that was a little bit true, but his heart kept telling him there was much more to it.

  The New York concerts had been postponed until December. Publicists and promoters had been upset, but so far not many of the fans seemed to be demanding refunds. The hometown Miami show in two weeks was still scheduled and Julian knew he would be ready for that one, if only he could survive the boredom of being at home for a few days.

  Home was a sprawling Spanish-Mediterranean-style estate with numerous rooms, a tennis court, stables, and other rewards of success, all shared with his sister, her husband, two nearly grown nephews and his favorite, his eight-year-old niece Amanda. They occupied the front part of the estate, while Julian had his own section with a separate entrance, facing the ocean.

  He paced around the spacious living room, then stepped out onto the verandah, which overlooked the swimming pool, acres of gardens and finally, the cerulean blue of Biscayne Bay, which emptied into the Atlantic.

  It was warm and balmy outside. Julian leaned against the railing surrounding the deck and stared out into the infinite blue. The ocean always lured and tormented him simultaneously. If he stared at it long enough, he could almost hear voices, whispers from the past, carried on the ripples of the waves.

  Cuba, the place of his birth, was only about 90 miles across that expanse, yet light years from his reach. As an exile, he had no desire to return, but the memories of what he’d left behind haunted him and evoked startlingly visual flashbacks. He could see himself as a child, strolling along the sea wall of the Malecon in Havana with his father, carrying a fishing pole that was almost bigger than he was. He could see his father playing the old guitar, and the people who gathered in the square to listen to his poetic boleros. He could remember his father trying to explain to him that it was more than just oceans that separated people, and finally, he could remember his father being taken away. He had cried then, and many nights after, because a part of his family had been lost forever.

  He pounded his fist on the railing, breaking the spell. “Come on, Nicole, call me,” he said out loud, gazing at the cell phone on the deck table, willing it to ring.

  “Talking to yourself, man?”

  Startled, Julian whirled around to see his friend Wade Simmons stepping out on the deck. Wade was a tall, brown-skinned Jamaican with dreadlocks down the middle of his back. He was bass player for the band and a long-time friend.

  “I always knew you were crazy,” Wade continued. “Just didn’t realize how much until now.”

  Julian laughed. “How the hell did you get in?”

  “The door was open. Don’t you know that’s the surest way for trash to get in?”

  “My intention was to get the trash out,” Julian said.

  Wade ignored the remark. “Anyway, I was just passing through and figured I’d drop off those tapes, you know, the songs we were working on before you got sick.”

  “Trying to keep me busy, are you?”

  “ ‘A mind’s a terrible thing to waste,’ ” Wade replied. “So, how’s it going? You look like crap, by the way.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Julian had to admit Wade was right. He hadn’t shaved in two days and was sporting stubble. His raggedy jeans, wrinkled T-shirt and worn socks also supported the description.

  Wade deposited the tapes on the table and dropped into one of the deck chairs. “So who’s this Nicole you were babbling about when I came in? Another one of your model babes?”

  Julian straddled a chair, facing him. “No. She works in the hospital. She’s a nurse. Gave her my number, but no calls, nada.”

  Wade squinted in disbelief. “Works in the hospital? You must be slipping, Romeo. Long as I’ve known you, it’s always been them glamorous Hollywood types.”

  “Well,” Julian said defensively. “She is beautiful, looks like a model, but I suspect she’s better.” He took a deep breath. “I want something real, man. Incredible as this may sound, I actually do want to settle down…the wife…the kids, all that stuff.”

  Wade shook his head. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. So what’s with this chick? What Latina would ignore you?”

  “She’s not a Latina, but that’s beside the point.”

  “Really? Thought sure she would be since you’re so serious.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s married or got a boyfriend.”

  “If that’s true, she sure doesn’t love him,” Julian replied emphatically.

  “How do you know that?”

  “The way she looked at me, like she was interested, but didn’t want to be.”

  Wade drummed on the surface of the table. “Well, you’re a star. Most women must look at you like that. But if it bothers you that much, just go see her and ask her out.”

  Julian smiled wanly. “See that? I’m up here agonizing over this thing and
all I gotta do is what you said. I’ve been living such a crazy weird life that I don’t even know how to act around a real woman.”

  “Then you better start re-wiring your brain.” Wade stood up. “None of my business, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to date fans.”

  “She’s not a fan. Never even heard of me until we met.”

  “This girl must be from Mars.”

  “She looks at me like I’m from Mars.”

  “Whatever. I’m out of here. Let me know what you think of those tapes. I made a few changes on the arrangement.”

  Julian remained seated and watched him go. She was not going to call. The next move was going to have to be his. Either that or forget her.

  The phone rang. Julian seized it like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline.

  “Hi baby, it’s me,” a distinctive female voice rang out.

  The air went out of him like a pricked balloon. It was Jami.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Oh, come on, open,” Nicole muttered as she fumbled with her key, trying to fit it into the hole while juggling a large bouquet of roses in her free arm.

  The door swung open from inside and she almost pitched headfirst into the apartment.

  “Oops!” Allyson exclaimed, side-stepping as Nicole regained her footing.

  Nicole laughed. “I sure wasn’t expecting you to be up this late.” Her smile froze suddenly. “Is everything okay? Trey?”

  “Don’t be silly. He’s fine, sound asleep as a matter of fact. I started watching this dumb movie and couldn’t get away from it. That’s why I’m still up.” Allyson came closer to inspect the flowers. “These are gorgeous! Who’s the guy?”

  “There is no guy. ” Nicole placed the flowers on the end table. “They came from one of the patients discharged two days ago. He gave a bouquet to every nurse on the floor when he left.”

  Allyson groaned. “I should have known. You really need to get a life.” She inhaled the intoxicating aroma while touching one delicate petal. “Must have been a rich patient.”

  “Yeah,” Nicole said. “He’s a Latin pop singer.”

  She moved into the kitchen, feeling a little bit annoyed because it was late and her intention had been to come home, check Trey and go right to bed. She didn’t feel like answering Allyson’s questions.

  “Which singer?” Allyson asked, following her into the kitchen.

  “His name’s Julian Marquez.”

  Allyson grabbed her by the arm. “You mean the Julian Marquez? Gorgeous voice…gorgeous everything?”

  Nicole groaned. “Oh, you’ve heard of him.”

  “Heard of him! Nicole, what’s wrong with you? Haven’t you checked out my CD collection lately?”

  “I never realized you were into Latin music,” Nicole said flatly, pouring a glass of water.

  “Well, excuse me. I’ve been here in Miami for six years now and it’s kind of hard not to be into it. I’ve got Celia Cruz, Julian Marquez and a few others right up there with Mary J. and Luther.”

  “Okay, I agree with you,” Nicole sighed. “I really am out of it. I’d never heard of the man until he was in the hospital.”

  “That’s because you only play that jazz fusion stuff,” Allyson said.

  Nicole glanced at the clock. The little girl inside her was screaming to blurt out all the details. Details like how all the other nurses had received bouquets, but hers had been different, containing a single yellow rose in the center with an envelope wrapped around its stem. Maria had been quick to notice that and begged her to open it. She had pretended to be apathetic, but in a private moment, had opened the envelope to find four tickets to his upcoming concert and a handwritten note that said, If you can’t stand my singing, give the tickets to a friend, but call me. His number was there. She’d felt elated for exactly five minutes—until reality set in and she realized that she would never call him. It was too risky.

  “Why was Julian in the hospital?” Allyson asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “He had pneumonia, but he’s recovering okay.”

  “Did you meet him?”

  “Yes. Ally, give me a break. “You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

  “Oh my God, no!” Allyson said, fluttering her eyelids and gesturing in an exaggerated Maria parody.

  Nicole laughed and removed the tickets from her purse. She was not going to call Julian or tell Allyson about that part yet, but there was no reason why they couldn’t go to the concert, especially since Allyson was a fan.

  “Well, sis, since you like Julian Marquez so much, why don’t we go to his concert in a few days.”

  “Girl, you must be kidding. The one at the Arena has been sold out for months.”

  “Not exactly.” She waved the tickets in Allyson’s face.

  “Tickets!” Allyson exclaimed excitedly. “I can’t believe it!” She practically snatched the tickets from Nicole’s hand. “You’ve got four of them. Can Lynette and Donna come along? I mean, unless you have someone else…”

  “No. They can come. I would ask Maria but she bought tickets months ago.”

  “Nicole, is there more you’re not telling me?” Allyson asked suspiciously, recovering from her excitement. “He didn’t give these to everyone on the floor, did he?”

  Nicole’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I don’t know for sure. Maybe he did.”

  She saw no point in saying anything else, or the whole story would come out, so she left Allyson standing there with her mouth open and went to check Trey. His curly head was facing her and he had a tight grip on the pillow. The dog, lying on a mat at the foot of the bed, wagged its tail.

  “Hey, Shane,” she whispered to the vigilant animal, then leaned forward to plant a kiss on her son’s forehead before retreating to her room.

  Lying awake in the dark, she reflected on the things in her life that had to be changed. Being a nurse was too demanding and too time consuming. Her son needed her, and it was unfair that Allyson had rearranged her life around them. She had no life herself and now she was infringing on her sister’s life.

  As sisters, they had always been close, although very different in personality. Allyson had been the go-getter. She’d confounded and frustrated their parents, especially their mother, at every turn. As a teenager she’d had numerous boyfriends and later a marriage that had lasted for only a year, followed by another which had lasted a few months. The amazing thing was her resilience. Allyson always knew how to bounce back and find laughter and joy in her life. It was a quality that Nicole admired.

  Nicole had drifted far away from her original goals and most of that had been Warren’s doing. Her college major had been English, and her original goal had been to go into journalism, but they had been young and anxious to buy a house and start a family. He had insisted that she needed a real job and she had agreed.

  If only she could have foreseen the future with Warren gone and the dream house sold, but there was no point in thinking about that now. She was thirty-one years old and it was time for her to find a new direction for herself and Trey. Someone had told her about an opening at the Miami Herald in the editorial department. The pay was nowhere near what she was making as a nurse, but the hours were good, and it was something to think about. She knew she should get started on a résumé.

  * * *

  The next morning, Nicole took Trey to school and rushed about trying to get things done. There was the never-ending laundry, followed by a stop at the bank and the post office. It was well into afternoon when she finally got back home, just in time to answer the ringing phone.

  “Hello,” she said breathlessly, shoving aside the laundry basket.

  “Nicole, is that you?” It was her mother.

  “Mother…,” Nicole answered, surprised that she would call at this time when she knew Trey was in school and Allyson was working. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine here. What’s wrong with you? You sound like you’ve been running.”

  “I j
ust got in the house and the phone was ringing,” Nicole said. “I had to run to answer it.”

  “I just wanted to tell you that your father and I have decided to take that cruise to Jamaica.”

  “That’s really great, Mom. What made you change your mind?” Nicole knew that all her life her mother had harbored a fear of water and of flying.

  “Your father really wants to go and now that we’re both retired, we should do things together.”

  “When are you going?”

  “At the end of this month. The ship leaves from Miami. What we figured we’d do is come down and stay with you all for a week ahead of time.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course, that’s a wonderful plan.” Nicole nearly choked on the words because she knew Allyson was not going to be thrilled with having their parents for a week, especially her mother.

  “Where’s that sister of yours?” her mother asked, almost on cue.

  “She’s at the salon, working.”

  “And where’s my grandson?”

  “Trey’s in school. I told you that this school starts sooner than the public one.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s…well, at least he’s not getting in trouble like last year,” Nicole said.

  “I still think you should come back home. Your father and I could help.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but we’re doing okay here. Allyson helps a lot with Trey.”

  “Is Allyson seeing anyone?” her mother asked suspiciously.

  “She hasn’t been serious about anyone for a while,” Nicole replied, trying to avoid a direct answer. Her mother did not fall for it. “Oh, but she is dating then?”

  “Really, Mom. Ally and I are grown women, but if you must know, we don’t have a lot of men running in and out of our home.”

  “That’s good. Tell Allyson we’ll be coming.”

  She wasn’t asking. It was a command. Nicole smiled sardonically and allowed the conversation to ramble on until her mother reminded her that the call was long distance and they had better hang up. After putting the receiver down, Nicole laughed. Her parents were reasonably well off, with good pensions, but it didn’t prevent her mother from hanging on to every penny. How on earth had her father ever convinced her to go on a cruise? She was going to have to question him about that one.