He wasn’t in the coffee shop when she got there, but she beat him there most of the time. She idly studied the latest CDs as the barista made her tea.
Moments with Raúl were hard to forget. His deft touch with her son. The expression on his face when he listened to her. The touch of his lips on hers.
He appeared five minutes after she’d gotten there. He looked weary, as if he had a lot on his mind. He gave her a wan smile as he went to the line.
When he put his coffee container on the small table, the sweet smell of mocha rose from the paper cup. She stared at the green logo, unwilling to look into his eyes, afraid of what she might see in them.
Had he changed his mind?
Forcing herself to look up, she kept her expression neutral. His eyes reflected sadness, more sorrow than she’d ever seen there before.
Coffee scents wafted between them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it the kiss?” A deep line wrinkled his forehead.
Her face must have been a mirror of his.
“No, that was wonderful.” She touched the top of his hand with the tips of her fingers. “I could ask you the same thing. You look like you’ve received bad news.”
He looked at the table, his lips drooping in a frown. Without a word, he picked up his cup and gulped several swallows.
He didn’t look at her.
Heat flushed her chest. Was she being a fool?
“Maybe we should meet another time,” she suggested. “You obviously have something on your mind. I should go.” She picked up her purse.
“No. No. Stay. Please.”
The anguish in his voice made her pause, but she still wasn’t sure what was going on.
“It has nothing to do with you,” he said. “I’ve received some bad news, that’s all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Uh ...” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think so.” He tapped his fingers on the cup in his hand. “How are things going with Luis?”
She stifled her irritation at his change of subject. What had happened? When would they be close enough he’d be comfortable talking about his feelings?
Right. He was a guy. Guys didn’t do feelings.
“I’m working through what the book suggests—taking my time when I move him, talking to him about what’s going on. It’s going better most of the time. Sometimes he still tries to strong-arm me.”
“Think about when that happens,” Raúl suggested.
It didn’t take long to come up with an instance. “He’s usually intently involved in something.”
“That makes sense.”
The conversation lulled again, and the silence made her shift in her chair.
“Do you think I’m too young to understand your problems?” she blurted out.
“What do you mean?” His eyebrows crinkled.
“Whatever you’re unhappy about—whatever happened. Do you think because I’m only eighteen that I can’t possibly understand your pain?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” He tapped the cup bottom on the table, the paper thud drowned out by the hiss of the espresso machine, while he stared out the window. No doubt he was visualizing something other than the parade of vehicles—mom-vans, low-riders, sports cars, and pickups—that passed by on Freedom Boulevard.
“Alicia,” he began when he turned back to her, “I’m used to keeping my own counsel.” He looked like he was about to say more but stopped himself.
“I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends before,” she challenged. “Did you talk to them?”
His smile was rueful. “’Fraid not. It was one of the things we used to argue about.” He shrugged. “You know how it goes. Women want to talk about love and sip wine; guys want to discuss sports and chug beer.”
She laughed, her insides loosening a little.
“Especially us macho Latinos.” He flexed a bicep, making her grin even more. “Talk about feelings? When they hurt so badly your insides feel like they’re being attacked by a small man with a large machete? Not happening.”
No wonder he didn’t have a current girlfriend.
“So. Not telling me?”
His joviality hardened. “I’d rather not.”
Ouch. She’d been totally wrong about him. There was no future for them if he was going to stay bottled up.
“Okay.” Once again she started to gather up her things. No point in inviting him to the inn.
He grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. Please try to understand.” Raking his other hand through his hair, he looked at her steadily. “It’s not that I don’t want to do this. I don’t know how.”
Her heart ached at his confession, longing to believe him.
“Will you give me a chance?” His voice was pleading, like a child who wanted dessert before dinner.
She took a deep breath and told him about the Fourth of July event.
Everyone came with baggage of some sort. Hers was a challenging son, his a damaged childhood.
• • •
The World’s Smallest Parade, so dubbed by Lucile Aldrich and her Aptos Ladies Tuesday Evening Society, was perfect for Luis.
Alicia held her son close, breathing in the dewy scent from his head as he pointed and gurgled at the passing floats, and marchers passed: ukulele players, dogs, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, gymnasts, and ladies in red hats. Floats from the local beauty salon, garden shops, the high school, and sports teams. Old cars. New cars.
Shiny red fire engines.
Happily, Luis embraced them all. While getting him there had been a bit of a struggle, he was content to watch the parade go by.
She rediscovered the joy of childhood, minus the ache of a father who wasn’t around for major holidays.
“He’s doing well,” Sarah said, holding a squirming Hannah in her arms. “This one, on the other hand ...”
Hannah howled her protest when her mother kept her from twisting out of her arms to grab the candy flung from the mayor’s car.
“Let me take her,” Hunter said.
“Gladly.”
“Is he coming to the inn?” Sarah asked Alicia.
“He said he was.” What would it be like for her friends to meet Raúl? Would they like him?
“Can’t wait to meet him without his doctor clothes.” Sarah giggled. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Uh-huh. I think Hunter makes you think about sex too much.”
“Hard not to.” Sarah looked toward Hunter, who’d transformed Hannah into a happy child.
“Are you going to have another one?”
“It’d be good if we got married first, don’t you think? Ouch!” A piece of candy bounced off Sarah’s forehead.
“I’m sorry.” A familiar-looking young man in a soccer uniform trotted over to them. “You okay? I forget how hard these things are.”
“Not a problem,” Sarah said.
“Oh. Hi, Alicia,” he said. “Josh. From sociology.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Cute kid. Gotta run.” Josh dashed back to the parade.
“Well, if Dr. Raúl doesn’t work out, looks like you have a backup plan,” Sarah said.
“He’s just someone in my class.”
“Not the way he looked at you.”
Alicia followed Josh’s progress up the street as he engaged with the little kids anxious for treats. He was nice. Certainly less troubled than Raúl.
But he didn’t create any heat in her belly.
“One guy at a time for me,” she said, and immediately regretted it. There’d been a time when Sarah had been trying to decide between Hunter and Hannah’s father. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it to come out that way.”
Sarah waved her hand. “Don’t worry. That’s all in the past.”
“Do you ever hear from Rick?”
“Not recently. There was a while there when he was threatening to hire a lawyer, but then he stopped.” She frowned. “I feel bad in a way. Hannah should know her real father, but Rick doe
sn’t seem interested.”
“Some men are like that. Eduardo doesn’t think Luis is his. I’ve asked him to take a paternity test, but he refused.”
“A court can order him to do it, if you want child support.”
“And where is he going to get it?”
“You told me he had pretty fancy cars. He’s getting money from somewhere,” Sarah said.
“I don’t want to know where. Besides, if I go after child support, I have to have him in my life—and in Luis’s life. Not what I want.”
The thought of Eduardo anywhere near her son chilled her. What if her ex decided he believed her and wanted to assert his rights?
That wasn’t his style. Besides, he’d denied the boy was his. The matter was over.
Unless Graciela stirred him up. What if he decided he wanted a son to carry on his sick lifestyle? She’d seen it happen in gang leaders before.
Nausea rose in her throat.
“The parade’s almost over.” Hunter was back with Hannah. “After I dropped you off, I managed to find a parking place in the shopping center, so we don’t have too far to walk.”
As Alicia followed them to the car, she worried how the afternoon would go. Would Hunter and Raúl get along? Of course, there’d be other people at the party, including the inn’s guests, but Alicia was most concerned about her sister’s fiancé. Hunter could be tough on people—natural for an ex-marine.
Luis began to squirm as they walked through the parking lot. She held him closer and whispered, “I’m so proud of you. You were Mama’s good boy during the parade. We’ll be home soon, and you can play with Hannah. You like Hannah.”
“’Anna,” he mumbled into her chest.
“He just said Hannah’s name!”
“That’s great!” Sarah said with a big grin. “Maybe he’ll be happy to play with her and give you a chance to be with your guy.”
Miracles did occur.
“Mandy!” Sarah shouted when they got to the inn. “Mandy and James are here! And look at her!”
Mandy’s little bump was evident as she ran toward the car. “Hey, guys! Happy Fourth!”
Sarah hugged her tightly. “It’s so good to see you! How come you didn’t tell us you were pregnant?”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Mandy wrapped her arms around Alicia and Luis. “Look at these kids. They’re getting so big!”
Luis tolerated a kiss on his forehead. Maybe this would be one of his good days.
“Yeah, just remember that when yours arrives,” Sarah said as she linked arms with Mandy. “They become their own little people in no time at all. Where’s James?”
“In the kitchen putting food away.”
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I’m a caterer. Cooking is like breathing. How could I not bring food?” Mandy turned back to Alicia and Hunter. “Need help? Of course you do.” She unhooked the diaper bag from Alicia’s arm. “How are you doing? How’s school? I hear there’s a hot doctor on the scene.”
They walked into the house and headed for the kitchen.
Alicia laughed. When she got going, Mandy could talk and talk and talk. “He’ll be here later, so you can make your own ‘hotness’ determination.”
“Is it serious?”
“Mandy, I’m only eighteen, and I already have a kid. I think I have enough seriousness. Why can’t I keep things fun?” That was her goal—a casual relationship, a friendship. That way she could maintain her independence.
“Uh-huh.” Mandy clearly wasn’t buying her story.
Sarah turned back. “Besides, you’ll be nineteen soon—so much older and wiser.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“We’ll have to get the new guy to do something special for your birthday,” Sarah said.
“Don’t you dare!”
Luis squealed.
She quickly modulated her voice. “I don’t want him knowing about my birthday. We’ve only started seeing each other. I’m not even sure we’re really seeing each other. I just invited him to the party, and you’re making a big deal about it.”
“What’s all the noise?” James shut the refrigerator door.
“Hi, James,” Sarah said, giving him a hug. “How’s the movie business?”
“Crazy as always. The next movie is hung up because the casting director can’t find the perfect Hispanic male to cast as the hero.”
“He might do.” Mandy pointed out the kitchen window.
Alicia followed Mandy’s gesture. Her heart tripped at the sight of Raúl walking toward the house.
“Oh, yeah,” Mandy said. “He’s hot all right. Now we have to find out if he’s a keeper.”
Possibility opened its door.
• • •
Raúl admired the old Victorian house as he carried the beer and wine he’d brought toward the front entrance. It had been lovingly restored with fresh paint in various shades of gray and purple. Around the parking area, tall eucalyptuses shaded the lot. A bench guarded a stone path that led into a wooded area—probably to an overlook of the bay.
Gorgeous place.
A hint of jealousy snuck up on him. Alicia’s sister hadn’t grown up in a farmworker’s family.
A damp nose nudged his free hand, and he looked down to see a tail-wagging golden retriever.
“Hello, there.” He petted the dog’s soft fur. “I hope you belong here.”
Unsure what to do, he knocked on the front door. It was an inn, but still.
A woman with a streak of purple in her hair and wearing a short summer dress answered the door. “You must be Raúl. Come in! I’m Mandy. No one knocks here. We’re all in the kitchen, dying to meet you.
She motioned to the dog. “You, too, Daisy.”
He followed her and the retriever down a short hall, nerves twisting his gut. A large Victorian hat stand caught his eye. He traced his hand along the burnished wood.
Someone had talent.
Alicia was hugging the dog when he walked in. “You being a good girl, Daisy?”
A thumping tail answered her.
As soon as she saw him, Alicia abandoned the dog to give him a warm, if awkward, hug.
“Glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
He took in the rest of the people in the large, industrial kitchen. Mandy stood next to Sarah, a woman he vaguely remembered from office visits with her little girl. He’d never realized how much her smile bore an eerie resemblance to the one he’d often seen on Alicia’s face.
“I’m Sarah.” She pointed to the little girl. “Hopefully, you remember Hannah.
He nodded.
“You’ve already met Mandy. This is Mandy’s husband, James.”
A man who looked about his age thrust out his hand. “Glad to meet you. Let me take this.” He accepted the bag of wine and beer from Raúl.
Without something to shield him in his hands, he felt exposed. They all seemed friendly so far, but would that last?
“Do you mind watching Luis for a bit?” Alicia asked. “I’d like to show Raúl around.”
“No problem,” Sarah said. “Would you take a couple of beers to Hunter and Marcos? They’re in the garden setting up. My mom’s out there decorating, but she’s never been a beer person.”
More people.
As Alicia showed him around, he noticed the furniture in the inn suited its nineteenth-century roots, looking uncomfortable and unstable.
“It’s sturdier than it looks,” Alicia said with a grin. “Hunter reinforced everything.”
“Did he do the hall piece, too?”
“Yeah. He was courting Sarah and made it for her.”
“And who’s Marcos?”
“Elizabeth’s husband. He’s a winemaker from Italy.”
Alicia’s family must have high expectations of the men in their lives. Good thing he was a doctor.
“What about Mandy and James?” he asked. “Where do they fit in?”
“Sarah can’t cook.”
/> He hoped there was more explanation coming. There wasn’t.
“How can she run an inn?”
“She cons people into cooking for her. First there was Mandy, but she escaped to Hollywood to be with James, and now Sarah gets interns from the college.”
“And what does James do in Hollywood?” Maybe Mandy’s husband was a perpetually out-of-work actor, and he’d have a chance to shine.
“He’s an assistant producer—really becoming quite popular, according to Mandy.”
Of course.
As they entered the wooded area, the sound of loud banging interspersed with bitten-off curses, wafted toward them. Sounds of a man’s man—capable of wrestling inanimate objects into submission.
Men like his uncle.
Raúl’s heart rate skittered, and he took a steadying breath. He wasn’t that little boy anymore.
In an attractive clearing, a well-built man with a prosthetic leg balanced a sheet of plywood on two trestles. A slighter, dark-haired man was twisting a socket wrench underneath.
“That should do it.” The man stood. “Oh, hi, Alicia.”
“Hi, Marcos, Hunter.”
The man she’d called Hunter, the one with the prosthetic, gave her a hug before holding out his hand to Raúl. In the brief moment before their hands clasped, he sensed Hunter had taken his measure and knew more about him than he knew himself.
“Raúl Mendez.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about you. The pediatrician. Sarah’s happy and Hannah’s healthy, so you must be doing a good job.” Hunter smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“We brought beer,” Alicia said. “Where’s Elizabeth?”
“Getting some more doodads from the car,” Marcos said. He held out his hand as well. “It is good to meet you, Raúl.” To his relief, the winemaker’s expression was more open.
“How many guests do you have?” Alicia asked.
“Four couples, one single,” Hunter said. “Most will be joining us later. Say, Raúl, can you give us a hand with this other table?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go help in the kitchen,” Alicia said.
“Sure. I’ll be fine.” He tried to ignore the tension in his upper back.
“If you help us set this up ...” Hunter gestured to another plank and trestles.
Raúl nodded and grabbed a trestle.
“Alicia says you think Luis might have Asperger’s. What does that mean, exactly?”
Romance in Color Page 137
