The large backyard has a pool, an outdoor grill, a TV, a putting green, and a large grassy area where several soccer balls and hula hoops have been abandoned. The older family sits at an outdoor dining table and the kids opt to take their plates and sit on the grass. Joel leads us to the table. “Did you get your questions answered?”
“Oh, um…” I really mismanaged my time. “I guess I got a little wrapped up in the food prep.” I take a bit of the buñuelo. “This is amazing.”
Joel’s father appears beside Isa. I know this even before he leans down and kisses her softly on the mouth and says, “Everything looks amazing, mi reina. As always.”
Joel’s father has the presence and command that his son does, but where Joel’s charm seems deliberate his father’s is not. He’s just got an air of importance and charisma.
“You must be Katrina?” he asks when he spots me sitting next to his son.
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes crinkle with a smile that has me rethinking the differences between his son. “Call me Dax. Tell us more about this screenplay you’ve written. What’s the title?”
I answer their questions. The entire lunch conversation revolves around it and they seem truly fascinated. So much so that I forget to be nervous. They even answer some of my questions, but I’m enjoying our easy conversation too much to pry too deeply into their lives.
I learn that Isa and Opal are sisters. Isa is the youngest and they came from Mexico City to the United States as soon as Isa was eighteen because Opal had met Joe – a pecan farmer turned businessman who traveled between Mexico City and Valley for work. Opal and Joe have three kids – Lucas, Will, and Karla. Karla is the only one here today with her husband Pete and Dylan the magician is their son.
Dax has two sisters, Lupita and Bonnie. They moved here with their parents at a much earlier age. The exact reasoning is a bit fuzzy but the general consensus seemed to be more opportunities. Lupita is married to Jose and they have two kids Anita and Celeste – neither married. Bonnie is also Dax’s sister, but she’s unmarried too as far as I can tell.
“How did the two of you meet?” I ask Isa and motion between her and Dax. It’s hard to tell what the age difference is. Isa could pass for thirty, but if I’ve gotten the timeline right by the various dates they’ve thrown out, she’s around forty. I think Dax is older, maybe as much as ten years older, but the way they look at each other I don’t think anyone could call him a sugar daddy or her a gold digger.
“I met her first,” Lupita announces proudly.
Isa and Lupita share a smile that hints at years of friendship and sisterhood. “I applied for a job at the university.”
“I didn’t know you worked there too.”
“I don’t,” she says with a laugh. “I didn’t get the job, but I did meet Lupita and she found me a job with Jose’s real estate company.”
The man I can only assume is Jose raises his drink to her. “Best agent I ever had.”
“I met Dax at Jose’s thirtieth birthday party about six months later.”
Isa reaches over and places a hand on Dax’s cheek and the moment is so intimate I force my gaze elsewhere. Looking over at Joel, he watches his parents with such love and appreciation it’s hard to reconcile this side of him with the guy who has been slinging cheesy pickup lines at me for months.
“When is the play, Katrina? I’d love to come see it.” Lupita’s smile and voice are sincere.
I have the date memorized of course, but I stumble over my answer because I hadn’t anticipated that level of interest. “Oh, it’s not until April.”
“Opening night is April fourth,” Dax adds. “Isa and I attend the Spring Showcase every year.”
The youngest family member barges over to the table, face covered in cinnamon and sugar. “Can I show you my new magic trick now?” He looks up at Joel with big pleading eyes.
“Does it involve cutting or fire?” Joel asks in a serious tone.
Dylan shakes his head. “Nope. Mom says no more magic that requires anything sharp or flammable.” The last word is said in his mother’s tone and with total disregard for the meaning.
I steal a glance at Karla who gives me a, “Oh the stories I could tell” look that I try and flash right back at her.
“Tio Joel, I need your watch. I’m going to make it disappear.”
Dylan waves a wand he’s been clutching in his right hand and Joel takes off his very expensive looking watch and hands it over without protest.
Holding it in one outstretched palm, Dylan closes his fingers around it as much as he can and then waves the wand three times before opening his now empty hand.
“Where did it go?” I ask.
“On your wrist.”
I look down to discover my wrist newly adorned. The watch isn’t clasped, but it is draped on my right hand. “Oh my goodness. How did you do that?”
“Magic,” he answers simply.
Joel reaches for my wrist and thumbs my pulse just below the metal band. “Thief.”
I watch the movements of his thumb entranced with the way his touch warms my entire body.
“It’s a nice watch,” I say finally and reluctantly move to take it off, seeing the time in the process. “Oh no. No.” I stand and pull my cell out of my back pocket to verify. “I’m late. I’m so late.” I tap out a text to Victor.
Joel moves to action at the urgent tone in my voice. “Ma, we gotta run.”
I calculate the time I think it’ll take to get back to the university to get my car and then to my house. Ugh, how could I be so careless?
Hastily, but forcing as much appreciation and sincerity in my tone as possible, I say goodbye to everyone on the way out feeling genuinely regretful to be leaving this family lunch.
I’m lost in my own thoughts as we head back. I can’t help but compare Joel’s family with my own. My pregnancy put a strain on our families – mine and Victor’s. The families supported us, of course, but it hasn’t been an easy road. There’s a loss of dreams that parents face when they realize their kid has to grow up and be an adult before they should.
And then with Victor moving away so soon after Christian was born, it added to the burden our families felt. And I’m not even sad for the ways that changed me, I just want Christian to have the best. He’s such a special kid and I only wish Victor could see the way his actions impact Christian. I know he can’t miss what he’s never had, but I want him to have more. For the first time since he showed up at my door this morning, I’m wondering if I should go easier on him. I can’t change the past and if he’s showing up now for Christian, isn’t that all that really matters?
I steal a glance over at Joel who stares out into the open road lost in his own thoughts.
“Thank you for today. Your family is incredible.”
His smile is easy. “Did you get what you needed?”
I consider what I learned today. I didn’t write down a single note, but I do feel like I got the tiniest peek into their lives. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I got so swept up in your mom and aunts that I found myself listening more than asking any of the questions I intended.”
“Send me the questions and I can email them to my mom, or you could always come back next week. Standing invitation.”
“You guys really do that every Sunday?”
“Yep. I don’t make it every week. Practice and away games sometimes interfere, but every Sunday at noon lunch is served at the Moreno house for anyone who shows up.”
My phone beeps and I read Victor’s message telling me it’s fine that I’m going to be a few minutes late.
“Late to pick up your son?”
It’s the first time he’s mentioned the bombshell I dropped, and I don’t miss the tightness in his voice. I wonder if he’s disappointed because I have a kid or because I didn’t tell him. It’s better not to ask. The first option is soul crushing and the second is completely valid and all on me. I should have told him and avoided this whole awkward
tension.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to be home in…” I check the time. “Three minutes.”
“Where do you live?”
“West side of town. Columbia and Main.”
“The West Lot apartments?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
I notice the increase in speed, but he seems to have a good command of the car so I don’t mention it.
“I like that area. I grew up a few blocks from there.”
“You did?” I’m surprised. It isn’t a bad neighborhood, but it isn’t nearly as nice as where his parents live now either.
“Yeah, we moved across town when I was in high school. My cousin Lucas lives there now. I’ll take you to your apartment and if you give me your keys, I’ll get your car back to you tonight.”
“That’s really not—”
“You need your car before tonight?”
I shake my head.
“You want to be on time or not?” He smirks.
“You’re going to get me there in three minutes?” I check my phone. “Two minutes.”
He nods. “Give or take two minutes. Anything less than five isn’t late.”
If my stomach weren’t in knots to get to my son, I’d be impressed with his cockiness even in a time like this. He breezes through the side streets toward my neighborhood with a sureness and ease that further proves his knowledge of the area.
Despite the amazing time I had today, it’s relief and happiness I feel when Joel pulls up to the curb in front of my apartment building. I open the door before he’s come to a full stop.
“Thank you so much.” I jump out of the car and then pause before shutting the door. “Today was really great. Your family is fantastic. Thank you for all of it. And for getting me home impressively fast.”
With his cocky grin imprinted on my brain, I close the door and rush to my son.
12
Joel
After an early evening practice, I shower and then head down to the theater room. Sunday night is movie night with the roommates and I’m looking forward to a night of Tom Cruise and chilling.
“Which Cruise feature film are we watching tonight?” I ask Z as I plop down in the front row with my phone and take the soda he passes my way.
“The Mummy.”
I give him a head bob. Don’t really care about the movie tonight. Tired as shit and just want to relax.
Bless enters the room. Bless is Blair and Wes. It’s their couple name and it’s way cooler a name than they deserve, but I came up with it, so no one should be surprised it’s baller.
Makes me think of what kind of couple name Katrina and I could have.
Katel. No.
Jina. Fuck no.
Man, based on possible couple names we’re not looking good. Scratch that, based on everything we’re not looking good. I don’t do relationships. And a kid? That really threw me. Was not expecting that. Makes sense now, though, her hesitation, why I haven’t seen her around at parties.
Me: Everything turn out okay?
Kitty: Yes. Thanks for getting my car to my apartment. You didn’t have to do that.
Me: Sure I did. I needed to further impress you with my chivalry.
Kitty: Two points.
Me: Shit. I don’t even get three for that? That seems three-point worthy.
Once Nathan joins, we start the movie, but I’m not paying any attention to Tom. I’ll have to google the synopsis and quotes later so I can be prepared should Z quiz me on it. Guy is serious about his Tom Cruise.
Kitty: Fine. Three points.
Me: Any particular reason you didn’t tell me you had a kid?
Kitty: You didn’t ask?
I chuckle quietly, not because it’s funny, but because I can almost hear the way she says it all sweet and innocent like. Nathan glares at me, but I just flip him off.
Me: Well let’s just cover the basics right now then, shall we?
Me: Got any other kids?
Me: Ever been arrested?
Me: Favorite movie? This one is the most important, obviously.
My fingers itch to ask about the father of her son, but it’s none of my business and it doesn’t even matter. As long as she’s single, that’s the only thing I should care about.
Kitty: No, just the one. His name is Christian and he’s three. No arrests or criminal record. And I can’t possibly pick just one favorite. What’s yours?
Me: Bond – the new ones. Casino Royale is my favorite.
Kitty: I guess if I have to pick, I’ll say The Fault in Our Stars.
Me: So, really, why not tell me about him before when you were making excuses to wash your hair and binge watch Saved by the Bell.
Kitty: Both worthy excuses if you ask me.
Me: …
Kitty: I guess I figured once you had a real reason you’d stop coming by and asking me out.
Me: So let me get this straight. You were willing to keep turning down awesome dates with me because you thought I’d ghost once I found out you had a kid?
Kitty: Something like that.
Me: Oh Kitty, you’ve wildly underestimated me.
13
Katrina
Christian is getting out of the bathtub when the doorbell rings.
“Dry off and get in your pajamas,” I say as I walk to the front door. I’m counting down the minutes until bedtime and simultaneously feeling guilty about wanting my kid to be asleep already. Mondays are the longest days. Three classes, critique group, and Christian has soccer practice. I’ve been going nonstop all day and I’m so close to blissful silence and handfuls of Goldfish crackers (Those things are addictive!) while I mindlessly watch TV.
I open the door, expecting my neighbor to need sugar or flour or whatever it is neighbors ask for. For reference, none of my neighbors have ever done this, but it’s always what I expect/hope for when the doorbell rings. I’m not awesome at very many things, but I’ve got sugar and flour on the ready.
A FedEx delivery woman stands on the other side of my door holding a box and one of those electronic scanners. “Hi. Are you Katrina Phillips?”
“Yes.”
She pushes the electronic scanner toward me. “Sign here.”
Once I’ve scribbled some semblance of my signature on the screen, she shoves the box in my hands and wishes me a good night.
I don’t recognize the return address, but it was sent same day shipping, so it has to be something amazing. I take the box inside and set it on the counter, delaying the excitement of finding out what’s inside.
I walk around the apartment picking up toys, grabbing the giant carton of Goldfish and a can of Diet Coke and placing it on the coffee table for later, all while keeping an eye on the box as if staring at it will somehow give me some clue what it is.
“Christian, are you ready for bed?”
On cue, he races out to the living room still sopping wet with a towel thrown over his head. “You’re supposed to dry off before you leave the bathroom,” I remind him as I take the towel and wrap it around him and then hug him tightly. “Did you brush your teeth?”
Instead of answering he smiles big showing off his little teeth and giving me a whiff of the minty toothpaste.
“Go get your pajamas on I’m right behind you.”
I steal another glance at the box and follow Christian into his room.
The apartment is small, but Christian has his own room on the other side of the apartment from mine. Per our lease agreement, we can’t do anything about the boring white walls, but his room is decorated with artwork from preschool, pictures we’ve colored together, and a few Hobby Lobby-esque pictures that my mom bought to help decorate his room when he was little.
I help him pull on pajamas and get under the covers, and I lie down beside him on the small toddler sized bed.
“What was your favorite thing that happened today?”
His little face beams and I know he’s already thought of his answer. “Soccer practice.”
“Yo
u did a great job. I’m very proud of you.”
“Do you think Dad will come watch me?”
“I’m not sure, but we can call him tomorrow and invite him.”
He nods vigorously. “What was your favorite thing?”
“I had the most delicious lemon muffin today.” I close my eyes and rub my stomach dramatically which makes Christian giggle.
“That’s silly.”
“Alright, buddy. I love you. Get some sleep.”
“Night, Mom.”
As I close his bedroom door, I let out a real sigh, feeling content for the first time all day. I did it. I survived another day. Maybe that seems melodramatic, but motherhood is rough. Going it alone doesn’t make me feel all independent woman and tough. It makes me feel tired and older than I am.
I grab the mystery box and bring it to the couch. I turn on the TV and pull up an old Saved by the Bell episode for background noise before I finally tear into the package.
The first thing that hits me is the fragrance. Peppermint, cedar, and leather. I’ve had months to pick apart the smells of Joel and as I pull away the tissue paper, it’s his scent that floats out with the thin white sheets. I reach in eagerly and pull out two large blue bottles. Shampoo and conditioner?
I hold the bottles in front of my face completely stumped. Why the heck would he send me… Oh my God. When it hits me, I can’t help but swoon a little. One of the first excuses I ever gave him was that I needed to wash my hair. Two points for originality. Flipping the top on the shampoo, I inhale. It smells amazing. This didn’t come from a department store. It looks and smells too expensive. Okay, fine, three points.
The Fadeaway: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 8
