by Cherry Kay
“Oh, this is a private tour?” she said, feeling better after her outburst. “I’m really sorry about earlier,” she added. “It was rude of me.”
“Well, I was at fault, too. I didn’t tell you ahead I was coming... although I did call.”
She sat down across him. “Why didn’t you bother the last few days?” she asked him, not looking at him.
He was quiet for a while. “I had my hands full,” he replied. “Had a few delays, something I heavily dislike, bordering on hatred, actually.”
She nodded, taking a sip of her warm cup of coffee. “I just thought something might have happened.”
“Something did.”
“Something bad.”
“It was something kind of bad, but not unmanageable,” he said. “Hurry up! We’ve got a long road trip.”
She rolled her eyes and continued drinking her cup of coffee.
*
He had known she would ask. It was kind of a given. Those responses were the best he could give, without lying to Iesha. The worst thing that had happened was just seeing Ana Paula, and that was it. It was something emotional, but not much of a big deal, right? Yet, it bothered him the whole day. In fact, it bothered him for days on end. He had nearly forgotten the trip he promised to Iesha.
Ana Paula was rubbing the edge of a blade against his scars. It was coincidental that she had to be there, but he hadn’t expected to see her plan her wedding. He didn’t want to find out about Raul; everything about him was just annoying. Raul was as tall as he was, with more hair, with a questionable sense of style. He was just being bitter, wasn’t he?
The day after he had seen her, her face was displayed on a daily newspaper, under the society column. It was an announcement for their engagement. He had thought Ana had moved away from Barcelona, transferred to Madrid where her government minister father was based. He hadn’t known she had come back. Why marry here? Why marry in a place where you cheated on me? They had made plans together, or more likely, he had made plans with her. Obviously, she had made her own as well.
His sister called him mere moments after he read the piece on Ana Paula Jimenez and Raul de la Paz, asking him if he had read the paper that day. He, of course, said no. Anita went on about how Ana had just gotten engaged, and that Raul was the son of one of their father’s acquaintances. He was a vineyard heir, so he was told by Anita.
“Look,” he told his sister, sighing, “I don’t care about them, or her. I wish her the best, though.”
He had crumped the newspaper in his hand as he said those words, hating the thought that he was still vulnerable to her, after all those years. All it took was one smile, a few words, and he slid back to that dark place.
Vineyard heir, my ass! He had an inkling he would be hearing about this from his father soon enough. The senior Gonzalez would grumble about how his son had erred. His father hadn’t known the truth about their breakup, always assuming it was his fault, that Alex had driven her away into someone else’s arms. Alex had kept it to himself for a while, only sharing it with Anita months after when she forced him to do so. He had been pale and had been suffering from insomnia. Anita feared it was going to get worse, unless he talked about it.
Alex refused to be beaten by her, whatever his odds. She had moved on, and she had moved on well. He had every intention of doing so too. He was single, successful, and busy. Happiness wasn’t a strong mantra until he met Iesha. He decided he would concentrate on making himself happy with Iesha in his life. She was his breath of fresh air at the moment, and he hoped it would last longer.
Bringing her coffee and breakfast was a sort of peace offering. Since she was the feeling type, he decided to be casual about it, and subtle. Coffee and waffles did the trick this morning, he thought. He didn’t want to get into a negative situation with Iesha, and he couldn’t help but laugh to himself, realizing Iesha had been a bit jealous that she hadn’t been given attention. It was kind of cute, if they discussed where they were.
He didn’t dare ask her to be his girlfriend. No idiot in his right mind would, he thought, so he took her out on casual, almost intimate dates—a strange, cautionary dance to check where they were together. He knew she didn’t want to assume that they were exclusive and all, either. She was like him, in a way—careful.
He saw the look in her eyes, that happiness to see what the countryside looked like. She enjoyed historical places, he found out. Sometimes, she would ask him to stop, just so she could take photos.
“You’ve been driving for at least forty minutes now. Where are we going, exactly?”
“It’s not about the destination. It’s about the trip,” he joked, trying to sound like a sage.
“It doesn’t work on your accent,” she laughed. “but seriously, where are we going?”
“It’s this little city called Tarragona.”
“What’s in it?” she asked, curious.
“It’s a port city,” he explained, “with a lot of ruins from the Roman era.”
“Like?”
“Tombs, aqueducts” he saw the expression on her face. “It’s basically an old-school pipe to transport water.”
“Oh…”
He smiled. “Plus, the food is great of course. All that fresh seafood.”
“You and food.”
“It’s part of the reason for my existence, literally and figuratively.”
“The place has great beaches too, but it might be too cold for a swim. Did you bring a swimsuit, though?” he asked her.
She laughed and nodded. “I was a girl scout way back when, so the answer is yes.”
Ana Paula would never have brought emergency clothing along. She’d buy them off the rack though, if need be. She wasted money, in a way, despite the abundance of it… he was comparing Ana to Iesha. That was unfair. They were two different people, too very different people. Would father even keep his mouth shut if he found out about this?
He smiled. “Ah, I’m starting to think we’re meant to be,” he joked. She didn’t give much of a reaction; she just smiled a little and continued looking out the window. Do you make scenarios just so you’re meant to be? He had thought he and Ana Paula were meant to be. He was a high school football player. She was on the honor roll and the school council, and was one of those girls that everyone just seemed to have a crush on.
Alex had mustered enough courage to ask her to prom during the senior year, something he knew he wouldn’t regret. They had some great years together, but those great years had to end at some point. He just didn’t think it would happen to them. They broke up during college, and got back together again as soon as they started working, and he had thought they would weather through everything, having grown more mature.
“What?” he said, realizing she was talking to him, and he wasn’t focusing on her.
It seemed like he drove on autopilot. Ana Paula wasn’t one for road trips, but she did enjoy touring about in private jets, and the like.
“I asked if we’re close,” she repeated.
“Yeah, just a few more minutes,” he replied. “You hungry?”
“Not yet. Do I have to be?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “You need room for all of the food I’ll be letting you have.”
“I should be on a diet,” she groaned.
“Flamenco will burn this off,” he assured her.
She laughed, and it was obvious she was already in a better mood. Ana carried grudges, Iesha didn’t. Ana was afraid of laughing too much—wrinkles, she had told him. Iesha laughed her head off. I’m comparing them again, he thought, disappointed.
He was on this road trip to prove he could easily forget about seeing her again, and so that Iesha could go around more. Which one was it, he thought to himself. He would make this day a happy one, make this day a happy one with Iesha. She would be the only person who’d matter at the moment. At the moment… it sounded so final. He didn’t want to disappoint, and he didn’t want this—whatever this thing was between them—to b
e over. He was selfish, he knew, but why do away with this kind of happiness? It was a rare feeling nowadays, to be happy with someone you just barely met.
*
She was being a tourist, but she didn’t care. She was having the time of her life. Just not knowing this place existed made her slightly regret not taking a month long road trip around Spain, instead of just flamenco classes.
“What are you going to do with the flamenco, once you learn it?” he had asked her as they stood on ancient steps, marveling at the centuries-old structures before them.
She took a deep breath, smelling in the salty air, and some grilled seafood as well. She felt a bit hungry, unsurprisingly. “Mm… I don’t know. I just wanted to learn it. I never thought about what I’d do. It seemed like the best reason then…” she paused and then laughed. “You’re right. I should apply in life what I’ve learned.”
“Well, you don’t really have to,” he said, taking a step down. “There’s this restaurant I want you to try.”
“Thought you’d never mention lunch,” she said, skipping down the stone steps as well. “So tell me about this place. Something that isn’t Google based.”
He laughed. “What isn’t Google based nowadays? Alright, this city was founded in the fifth century BC, if my memory serves me right. So it was supposedly named after an Egyptian pharaoh who was probably on tour for something.”
“Now that sounds made-up,” she laughed.
“I said supposedly. Besides, the guy’s name was Tarraho, so close enough, right? Anyway, where was I? Yeah, so this was a fortified city back in the day. After the fall of Rome, this place fell apart too, ransacked by Vandals—no, they didn’t come to vandal the place, if that’s what you’re thinking—and then the Visigoths thereafter, all Germanic tribes. It took a while before the union of Spain took place, and this, this is where we are now, hundreds of years later, standing here, marveling at ruins.”
She stopped. “It sounded like so much of a struggle for one city.”
“Every place will have its story, violent or even more so,” he said, “Man, I love history. Sorry, did that bore you?”
She shook her head as soon as they arrived in front of an unassuming restaurant. “You never bore me.”
It was the truth. In the days they’d seen each other, he had been fun, and even if he had become quiet, she’d still liked it. How weird was that? She hadn’t been too comfortable with Terrence’s bouts of silence back then, when he had been studying law, but she’d found ways to keep herself occupied. It had been that little bubble she couldn’t pop, no matter what she did, his irritability during silence.
“We’ll be going to that amphitheater later,” he told her as they got in. The restaurant was full, but they still got a seat. “You have to try their seafood plate.”
She nodded, “I’ll agree to what you have to say.”
“Why?”
“You have good taste,” she said.
He smiled a little. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”
He didn’t. Iesha had begun to think that Alex would have made a fine chef, had he not been an architect. He knew what kind of food was best, what kind of wine paired with it, even down to dessert. The man had a golden tongue (in more ways than one, given those steamy sessions with him).
“Oh, we’ll have to stop by a grocery later.”
“For what?”
“Snacks,” he grinned. “We’re going to a hidden beach.”
“How hidden is hidden?”
“People know about it, but not everyone goes to it. It’s a bit of a walk, through pine trees and stuff. It’s one of the best preserved beaches here, well in the whole of Spain, I think.”
“By preserved, you mean?”
“It’s been unspoiled. Nothing there but the beach, facing the Mediterranean Sea, just like how all beaches should be. And we’ll spend a lazy afternoon there, before we head back to Barcelona.”
She smiled. “Sounds nice.”
She was looking at him as he ate, as he talked to her animatedly. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met, and that was saying something. She’d thought Terrence had been unlike anyone, but he turned out to be predictable, just not predictable enough for cheating. Perhaps, she hadn’t want to find anyone else and stuck with Terrence because they were a beautiful couple together.
Alex was just being himself, she thought. She couldn’t see him being fake for anyone. He liked geeking out without shame, and it was pretty cute, actually. Terrence never did that… she stopped her pattern of thought. It was unfair to compare them. They were different, too different. And it seemed like she was egging herself on, to be happy with him. It wasn’t so she could get over Terrence completely. She didn’t love Terrence anymore, which was for sure. Would Alex...?
There was so much room to love in her, if only Alex felt the same.
Chapter8
They had gotten back to the city a few minutes ago, just past seven in the evening. She was showering in his bathroom. He liked looking at her naked and soaped up, singing in a lovely tone, and it surprised him. So she could dance, and she could sing, and she could design. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got ourselves a winner, he thought.
Dinner was going to be somewhere near. He felt tired from the drive and all that wading and swimming. She had claimed it was one of the most beautiful beaches she had ever seen in her life, and she thanked him by kissing his cheek, almost shyly, something he found quite endearing, to be honest.
His phone rang. It was his mother. Taking a deep breath, he walked for the balcony. “Ma,” he greeted.
“I haven’t heard from you in a week,” she said. “¿Cómo estás?”
“I’ve been busy,” he said. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m good. So is your papa.”
“Great.” He didn’t bother asking about his father, but his mother always filled it in for him.
“Don’t forget about dinner tomorrow,” his mother told him.
Right, it was time for one of their monthly family dinners. He had been so wrapped up with work and seeing Iesha that he had forgotten about that. His mother, who had semi-retired as a physician, cooked splendidly, a talent that Anita didn’t have. Alex had thankfully inherited her cooking skills.
His mother, Ines, spoke of Anita wanting an intimate gathering for their upcoming thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. He smiled to himself. Oh, Anita, you and your surprises.
“Weird thing is, she wants me to have a gown made. I can’t for the life of me say no. It’s a pretty dress,” his mother laughed, and he laughed as well.
“Better have a tux ready for papa, too. I think it’s going to be for a photo shoot of sorts. For the library.”
“Right, right,” his unsuspecting mother intoned. “The photo shoot is going to be where?”
“A few places. Anita has it planned. Even she’s joining in the fun, apart from your grandkid.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll catch up,” he said.
“What have you been up to?” she asked as an afterthought.
“Aside from work? Nothing much. Drove to Tarragona earlier.”
“For what?”
“Sightseeing.”
“With whom?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?” Alex sighed.
His mother laughed. “Just curious.”
“Have you and Anita been talking again?”
“It’s a girl thing,” his mother intoned, snickering.
“You’re like a child,” Alex told her.
“Well, you’re my child. And I’m after your welfare.”
“Did she tell you something?” Alex frowned, realizing that she was calling out of motherly curiosity, to check on how he was after the whole of Barcelona now knew that Ana Paula had gotten engaged.
“Just wondering how you were, really,” his mother downplayed.
“I’m guessing you picked up a newspaper today and saw something worthy, just to take a few minutes of your time?”<
br />
“Oh, shush, Alex. It’s not like that.”
“If you’re looking for a sad boy, there isn’t one here,” Alex told her. “She’s getting married; we should be happy for her and hope he’s a nice guy.” He actually looked far from nice, but I guess that’s what makes them perfect for each other.
“We want you happy,” his mother told him.
“But I am. It may not seem like it, but I am,” he said, as he heard Iesha step out of the shower. “Listen, I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” his mother said approvingly.
“Hi, was that work?”
He shook his head. “Nope. So… what do you feel like having?”
“Paella,” Iesha quickly said.
“Paella it is,” he said with a grin.
*
They had dinner at a quaint beachside restaurant, and her eyes marveled at the paella serving plated before them.
“Can we finish this?” she asked him with a laugh.
“Challenge accepted,” Alex told her. “Dig in.”
They had a bottle of wine to help flush the meal down. The paella was decent fare, not the best, but the ingredients were clearly fresh.
“I don’t think I can finish this,” she said blearily. “I’m getting too full.”
“Weak, weak,” Alex joked to her. “We’re not moving until we finish this.”
“It’s a Sunday tomorrow. We have all night.”
He shook his head. “No dessert, then.”
“I’m good with no dessert,” she conceded. “What are we doing tomorrow?”
Alex cleared his throat, and it surprised Iesha, but at the same time she knew—she knew that tomorrow would be a Sunday without him. She wanted to say something, to add to what she had just asked, but what was there to say? The question was as glaring as it was.
She forced a smile, and so did he.
“Well,” he began, “I can see you in the morning.”
“If you’re busy, you don’t have to force—”
