by Laura Ward
Also, you. Your presence. The thoughts you unknowingly conjure up in my head. Jacket or not, I believed being around Ricky would always make me warm.
Zipping up my bag, I turned to Ricky. “Don’t you have plans with a girlfriend tonight? It’s pretty much the biggest date night of the year.” I held my breath. Please say no. Please say no. Say no. Say no. Say no.
His lips pressed together, his eyes assessing before he answered. “No girlfriend, no plans. I have to work later, but I have a few hours free.”
My heart raced, happiness and relief flowing freely through my veins. “I’d love to hang out.” We walked side by side out of the classroom, exiting the building along with a mass of students. A light snow began to fall, not sticking to the ground, but decorating the air with swirls and stars of white fluffs.
“Should I follow you in my car? Since you’re working? Or would you like to ride with me? I’d be happy to drop you back here.” The cold air whipped around us, the chill of February causing steam to escape my mouth as I spoke.
Ricky nodded, placing his hand on the small of my back as he led the way to the parking garage. “Follow me. I’m not letting you ride on the back of my bike when it’s snowing. But, I’ll need my bike close by to make it to work on time.”
We stopped by my car and as I unlocked it, Ricky opened my door, waiting until I slipped inside. “Do you know Manny’s? It’s on Eleventh and Illinois?”
I pursed my lips, mentally picturing the location. “I’ve never been, but I’ve passed by.”
His laugh was hard, and he gave a small shake of his head. “No, I can’t imagine you have been there. Follow me.”
He closed my door without another word, a quick change from the sweet guy who opened it with such gentle manners. Starting the engine, I watched in the rearview mirror as he slipped on his helmet and started his engine. What had changed in those few minutes? He acted angry that I had never been to this bar. Why would that offend him? Little did he know, but my family rarely ate out at restaurants, let alone bars. Regardless, I wasn’t sure why that bothered him.
Ricky backed out slowly and then moved forward, waiting for me to do the same. As soon as I was out of my car space, he took off at a clip, and I concentrated on following him through the late-day traffic.
Twenty minutes later, I parked at Manny’s Restaurante and Bar. Grabbing my purse, my fingers found the car door handle, but Ricky was already there, opening it and extending a hand to help me out.
My cold fingers clasped onto his, somehow still warm despite the motorcycle ride here. The contact sent a spike of heat through my body and I looked up, his brown eyes tracking my face carefully.
He dropped my hand when I stood but guided me into the bar with his hand on my lower back.
“Ricardo!”
“Hermano!”
“Hola, Ricky!”
Calls of welcome greeted Ricky as soon as he sauntered into the room. I looked around, taking in the South American flags hung on the walls, the colorful decorations and signs all printed in Spanish, and the chatter in the same language helping me understand why Ricky would assume I had never been to Manny’s.
This was yet another place I didn’t fit in.
Ricky waved to the bartender and led us to a booth in the back. We slid in opposite sides, and I exhaled a shaky breath as two menus were placed in front of us.
“Ricardo, como estas?” A woman with thick curly black hair, pulled back with a wide headband asked, her hand on his shoulder, her breasts thrusting toward Ricky in a way that told me she wanted much more than to take his order.
“En ingles, por favor, Rosalita.” He extended his hand in my direction. “This is Aveline. She doesn’t speak Spanish.”
Rosalita’s glare was frigid. Her nose crinkled as she reared back, looking at me from head to toe. I opened my mouth to tell them both I spoke Spanish fairly fluently, but stopped, keeping that knowledge to myself.
“Hello,” I began my voice gentle and timid. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Rosalita looked like she had swallowed a lemon. She turned to Ricky. “What can I get you, cuero?
Ricky looked at me expectantly. Wine. I needed wine. I needed vodka, but I was driving so wine would do it. “I’d like a glass of Pinot Grigio, please.”
Rosalita rolled her eyes and looked at Ricky. “Beer for me. You know what I like.” He sat back, his arm resting along the top of the booth. The move made his jacket fall open, showing his sculpted chest underneath his fitted long sleeved t-shirt.
A groan of appreciation rumbled from Rosalita’s chest. “I sure do, cuero.” Her tongue dragged slowly across her lower lip.
What the hell? She was brazenly flirting with Ricky and he was here with me. I sat up straighter, adjusting my glasses, and willing my face not to burn.
“Thanks,” he told her, but his eyes found mine. His mouth curved, almost like he enjoyed seeing my discomfort. “You okay?”
“Why did you bring me here?” The question slipped out before I could hold it in. At that moment, my life seemed like a series of events where I never belonged. Always the odd one out.
His eyes narrowed, and he sat forward, both arms on the table top. He leaned closer, his upper body taking up almost all of the table as he brought his face closer to mine.
“What’s wrong with this place? Is it not nice enough for you?” He spit out the last word. Anger covered him like a cloth and gone was the boy I had thought I was getting to know.
My heart pounded so hard and fast, I wondered if he could see it through my shirt. “Nothing is wrong with this place. But our waitress looks like she can’t stand the sight of me. Is that because I’m not Latino? And if so, I’d think you might have anticipated that kind of reaction.”
His eyebrows drew together, and he sat back in the booth, blowing out a long breath. “Okay, I get it. Rosalita and I… used to… fool around. I wasn’t thinking about her being here tonight.” He motioned with his hand, gesturing to the restaurant. “Lots of non-Latino people come here. The food is fantastic, and the alcohol is dirt cheap.”
Rosalita strutted over, gently placing Ricky’s beer in front of him, before placing my wine glass down. It smacked the table, wine dribbling down the side of the glass. I looked up and she was watching me, waiting for my reaction.
“Thank you, Rosalita.” My words were gentle. I used a napkin to wipe off the glass. I couldn’t rebuke her. If I had fooled around with Ricky and lost out on future opportunities, I’d be salty too.
Ricky took a long drink of beer, watching as I sipped my wine. “Are you allowed to drink before work?” I hoped the teasing tone of my voice wouldn’t rankle him. His temper was quick to ignite.
“I’m working at my main job, the bike shop. I could do those repairs with my eyes closed.” He drank again, pulling the paper off the corner of the label on his bottle. “What’re your plans tonight?”
“Dinner with my parents.” My fingers traced the stem of the glass. “Nothing too exciting.”
Ricky was quiet, seeming to mull over his thoughts. “No dates tonight?”
I took a large gulp of wine, shaking my head as I swallowed. “No dates ever.” The burn on my cheeks traveled to the tips of my ears. Admitting my lack of male attention was embarrassing.
Ricky’s eyes widened. “How’s that possible?”
I shrugged. “Like I told you before, homeschooled. Super protective mom.”
Ricky focused on his beer. I had to gather my courage and say something. I wanted more than anything to experience something new with Ricky. A kiss. A real date. And while I was sure he didn’t want the same thing, if I never tried… never took the chance… I was sure I would regret that decision for the rest of my life.
“I’m going to try and be brave and tell you something I’ve had on my mind.” His head jerked up and he waited for me to continue. “I think you are beautiful. I know you aren’t supposed to call men beautiful, but you are. Your face, your hair, your body. Beau
ty. I watched you with that homeless man. That was another kind of beauty. And the way you listen to me intently. More beauty. I wanted to tell you how I feel because I’ve never had this opportunity. You were in class when I got called up on stage and talked about the accident that I was in. I think that accident has continued to control much of my life. It’s caused my parents to hover, it’s caused them to keep me close and at home, and the knowledge that it hurt another man has changed the way we live our life. I—I want that to end, now. I want to stop being afraid. I want to be brave… with you.”
My words ended in a whisper and I bit my lip, holding my breath as I waited for his response. Ricky closed his eyes and scooted out of his side of the booth. He stood, pulling a bill from his pocket and tossing it onto the table.
“I’ve gotta go. I can’t be here. I can’t… with you.” His voice was laced with despair, edged with hostility. He focused on his boots, avoiding my eyes. Turning abruptly, he hurried out of the front door of the restaurant.
I closed my eyes, hoping to hold back the tears of humiliation that threatened to spill over.
The engine of his bike gunned. The motor screamed as he peeled out of the parking lot, and tears escaped, running down my cheeks in twin lines.
Perhaps this was why Mom and Dad kept me home, protecting me from the cruelty of the world. I swiped away tears from under my glasses and stood. Across the way, Rosalita watched me, her hip against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t mock me or look pleased that I was abandoned.
No, she didn’t look shocked at all. And that was what hurt the most. She expected this from Ricky.
I was no different. Nothing special.
And as the small bloom of hope that planted itself in my heart began to wither, I gathered my purse and headed back to my car.
What was worse? Never getting a chance to live your life? Or getting a peek at something you’d never thought you could have, only to understand you weren’t enough?
Chapter Fifteen
Ricky
ROWS OF EXTENDED family sat at picnic tables moved close together, so that relatives of all ages could mingle and catch up. Even at the age of four, I knew this was a rare, joyous day. Peruvian music played from a boom box and smoke billowed up from a grill that was loaded with chicken and sausages. Another table housed platter after platter of food—desserts covered but tempting, making my mouth drool in anticipation.
Mama approached, holding Marcela on her hip. She kissed me on the top of the head, imploring me to be safe. Mama was pregnant again and I couldn’t wait to meet my youngest sibling.
Papa stood with the men, talking, laughing, and drinking cervezas. Surveying the group, I was happy. My family was loving, and we had all that we needed.
The next thing I knew I heard screaming and splashing. The men, closest to the water, ran over and I watched my father dive in.
And then a buzzing sound filled my ears. The air was alive with panic. Other men jumped in, feet first. People yelled to call ambulances. My family, none of whom spoke fluent English, were confused and scared, Mama crying. And the bright white trucks with flashing lights appeared, their sirens screaming. And Papa was on a stretcher, Mama now screaming and trying to touch him.
I inched closer, unseen in the wild crowd, and stood right next to my father. His eyes were open, unfocused, his mouth covered by a mask. My belly hurt looking at him, his body still and limp.
The first tear rolled down my cheek and the ball of terror lodged itself firmly in my stomach.
I sat up, gasping for air. My hands found the top of my head and it was drenched, covered in sweat. It was the same dream I had had since I was a child. Not every night, but enough to have it memorized.
It was the day all the joy in my world faded, and a monster was unleashed inside of me.
Chapter Sixteen
Ricky
I WAS SUCH an asshole. For the past two days, I had done nothing but think about that night with Aveline. I grabbed a wrench, tightening the lug nut before shifting back on my knees. The bike was finished but my mind was a jumbled mess. First of all, why had I asked her out? Scraping money together for a couple of drinks was tough. I told myself it would be worth it to get closer to her parents.
Second, how could I have walked out of Manny’s like that? She called me beautiful inside and out. No one had ever spoken like that about me. When had a girl ever been so open, so vulnerable? And I freaked out and left her alone.
In a bar.
Where I was fairly certain she couldn’t communicate, seeing as she didn’t speak Spanish.
Oh, and on Valentine’s Day.
Mother. Fucker.
I fell back against the concrete wall, hanging my head between my knees. The problem was clear. I liked Aveline. She was sweet, funny in a slightly awkward way, and pretty. Delicate and fragile, she reminded me of a butterfly. My body size and general lack of manners felt wrong next to her, yet the pull was there. I couldn’t get her out of my head. I wanted to hear that whisper of a voice. I wanted… God help me… I wanted to touch her. Definitely more than a graze of my hand against hers.
But it was hearing that she wanted me that broke me. Because it was one thing to risk my heart. To go after her parents, to give all I had to help my family, but it was quite another to risk her feelings along the way.
A monster lurked inside me, urging me to do just that, hurt her because why should I care? She hurt my family, too. But the man I wanted to be couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t hurt Aveline. I needed money, but that didn’t mean she had to be destroyed along the way. Devoting all my energy to helping my father, my entire family, was the priority. Worrying over her heart was too damn much.
As badly as it felt to know I had hurt her, in the long run, I was doing the right thing. Squashing any hope Aveline had for romance between us was the best gift I could give her. Keeping her away from me was the ultimate protection.
“Ricky, got something to show you.” Ed walked out of his office and into the garage bay where I worked.
“Hey, Ed. What’s happening?” I stood up, wiping my greasy hands on a rag I kept in my back pocket.
Ed crossed his arms over his beefy chest. “Take a look,” he gestured with his chin to the window that flanked the entry garage door.
My stomach turned, senses piqued that this would not be good news. I walked out the side door and around the corner, facing the front of the shop.
The sign said, For Sale by Owner
Dread hit me like a wall. I needed this job more than I needed anything else right now.
“Had to do it. I’m sorry man. I’m closing up shop and moving south. I need a fresh start.” Ed spoke through clenched teeth. It was clear he was pained by his decision.
I swallowed past the boulder in my throat. “How long?”
Ed scrubbed his hands down his face. “I can keep you on through March. If the shop hasn’t sold by then, I’m locking up and taking off. Told my buddy I’d be in the Florida Keys with him by spring break. We’re thinking about chartering a boat and taking people on fishing trips.
I tuned him out. I was happy for Ed and his new start. Really, I was. But this was not a “for fun” job. This was a keep the roof over our head and lights on job. I’d have to start looking for something else right away.
We walked back into the shop and I returned to the bike I was working on. All the while wondering what the hell I was going to do if my plan failed.
* * *
“MAMA?” MARCELA ASKED, jostling Mama’s knee. “Wake up.”
Mama woke with a start, her body stretched out on the sofa. “What? Is he okay?” She rubbed her eyes, acclimating to the light in the room.
“We were afraid to move Papa to bed.” I sat next to my mother, elbows on my knees. “Listen.” The room became silent as we focused on his rapid breathing and the sounds coming from his lungs that did not sound normal.
“I think it might be respiratory distress,” Marcela said,
watching Dad’s sleeping frame, her shoulders rigid and face pinched. “I called an ambulance. He needs to see a doctor tonight, Mama.”
Mama stood. “I’ll go wash up,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I’ll ride with him to the hospital,” I announced, standing as well.
Teresa stood by Papa, a father who had never spoken to her, that she’d never known before his accident, a helpless look on her face as she watched him struggle to breathe.
Mama shook her head. “He is my husband. I will go. Ricardo, you have class and work. I’ll need you to work because I will have to miss a day’s wage tomorrow. Marcela, why don’t you come with us? Last time you were the only one who understood half of the medical jargon those doctors were throwing at us.”
The reminder of the end of my job made my heart race in my chest. Screaming sirens sounded closer and closer. “I’ll meet them downstairs.” I took off, jogging down the stairway to make better time than waiting for the old ass elevator.
After Papa’s accident, he spent months in the hospital. Hope faded quickly that he would regain any lost functions or be able to speak. The damage to his spinal cord and neck were too severe. Mama wept the day she realized her husband would rely on a ventilator to breathe every day for the rest of his life.
Nights like these, when the women I loved were overcome with panic, fatigue, and stress were when my plan threatened to spill over and ruin my life. I wanted to hunt Aveline’s parents down and drag them here, forcing them to listen to Papa’s lungs rattle, his desperate breaths, and wide-eyed distress.
But what did I do? I bolted when the cause of this anguish told me she liked me. Acting like a damn grade schooler, I ran. Instead of remaining focused, putting emotions and guilt aside, and using her contact to gain access to her parents, I fled the scene.
Christ, I needed Aveline’s parents more now than ever and I’d completely blown it with her. I had to figure out my way back in.
