by Lorin Grace
“Kissing? You must have been yesterday.”
“That was because my life depended on it. I was trying to imitate every kiss I’d ever seen in every rom-com I’ve ever watched. I was so afraid if I did the kiss wrong, they would hurt us.”
Interesting. Kyle tried to add up what she was telling him. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t had much experience as a girlfriend or being kissed. However, asking her such a thing point-blank would hardly break down her defenses. “We could try fake dating for a couple of days. If it doesn’t work, you can slap me someplace where we will be seen and make sure you avoid Aselòm.”
“They’ll think I am some sort of loose woman. That won’t help, will it?”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t think anyone who has spoken to you or looked into your eyes would ever think you are a loose woman.”
She blinked and raised her gaze to meet his. The tears were gone, replaced by a wariness. “When this is over, can we part as friends?”
Kyle gently ran his hand down her cheek. “I hope so.” He moved his gaze to her lips, then back to her eyes.
Araceli gave the slightest of nods, her eyes imitating his movements.
Kyle slid his hand down and lifted her chin.
Araceli froze.
“I promise I don’t bite.” Kyle kept the kiss light and pulled back before his instincts could overrule his mind.
She was blushing.
He kissed her again. This time she kissed him back.
“There you are!” Jade’s interruption ripped them apart.
Araceli’s burning cheeks had nothing to do with the sun warming the patio. Keeping her back to Jade, she willed the flames to die down—at least the ones in her cheeks. Araceli had no idea what to do with the other things she was feeling. It was supposed to be a fake kiss. Someone needed to tell that to her heart so it would slow down. Kyle’s hand slid down her arm and found her hand. He gave her fingers a little squeeze that sent tingles up her arm.
“Did you need something, Jade?”
“Aselòm called the house line. The drivers should be here in fifteen minutes.”
Araceli turned to face Jade. There was no point in hiding. Jade’s smirk matched the one Araceli’s imagination had conjured up. “Let the gossip begin.” Araceli said under her breath, hoping only Kyle could hear her.
Kyle whispered in her ear. “In three, two, one.”
Jade whirled from the patio and went back into the house.
“You’d better finish your breakfast. We have a full day in front of us. Besides, you won’t get better mangos than the ones the Delinos find for us.”
Kyle led Araceli back to her meal. She was surprised to find her appetite had returned.
“I don’t want you in whatever vehicle Aselòm is driving. And I am sorry to say, the rides are probably going to be the hardest part of this. You’ll have to pretend to like me for almost a solid hour.”
“I think I can do that.” Araceli finished the last couple of bites.
He reached for her dishes. “I’ll take them down. You finish getting ready and don’t forget to brush with bottled water.”
Oh, ratzelfratzel! Araceli had just experienced the best kiss of her life with morning breath!
The drive to the orphanage flew by for Kyle, partially due to the lazy Sunday morning traffic but mostly because of Araceli’s company. They sat in the back of one of the vans with Madison.
Although Madison raised a brow at Araceli when she must have thought he wasn’t looking, she kept her comments to herself. Mercifully, Jade was in the other van. Only Marci cast him questioning looks. Kyle debated about telling Marci the truth, but even one whisper would threaten their plan. He needed to warn Araceli about his sister’s tenacious nature.
“Is that really all garbage?” Madison pointed out the window.
“Sadly, yes,” Marci responded from the front seat.
“They are selling food there.” Ryan sounded horrified.
“This is one of the reasons we caution you against buying food from street vendors.” Kyle watched Araceli as he spoke and drew little designs on the back of her hand with his thumb. They’d only kissed an hour ago, and his body was already telling him how impossible faking would be with this woman.
thirteen
The volunteers worked quickly and quietly to prepare the surprise. Taking one hundred children to church was not an option since the orphanage didn’t own any school buses of their own. So each Sunday a devotional was held in the upstairs schoolroom, led by the director and his wife. The words to a popular children’s hymn crescendoed above them. Araceli recognized the tune but not the words, so she assumed they were singing in Haitian Creole. Marci told the volunteers when they heard that song play they had only about five minutes left to prepare.
Araceli hurried to scatter the last of her Easter eggs. Last night before she’d returned to the orphanage, the others had filled the cardboard eggs with stickers and candy. Made from painted toilet-paper tubes pinched closed at each end, the easily transportable and biodegradable eggs would serve their purpose. Now, five hundred eggs lay scattered in sections around the orphanage.
Shouts came through the building as the meeting ended and the children rushed downstairs for the annual hunt. The older children helped the younger ones get into groups by age, then Marci explained the rules. Araceli didn’t understand the words but could tell from the counting and recounting of fingers on one hand that the limit was five eggs. Workers and volunteers were sent out to each section to supervise.
Marci counted to five again, then whistled, and the children scattered. She took a little girl by the hand and led her to a smaller area where Kyle stood. Araceli watched as he tapped near the eggs with his foot. After a moment, she realized the child was blind and that there was a bell in each egg.
Shouting from nearby claimed her attention.
One boy had gathered an armful of eggs. Araceli hunched down to eye level and held her hand up, counting each finger in French and pointing at the boy’s arms. Downcast, the boy dropped most of his eggs to the ground, and the other children snatched them up.
When they were finished, the children gathered around the porch and compared finds. Boys and girls traded stickers, hoping to find their favorites.
Araceli walked around the perimeter to Kyle’s side. “Do you do this every year?”
“This is the fourth year. Marci’s idea. Bringing five hundred plastic eggs to Haiti wasn’t practical, so she came up with the idea of using toilet-paper tubes. I think half her high school saves them for her. And each year she holds a huge painting party.”
“The little girl who searched on her own—is she blind?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even notice yesterday, and I know I saw her running around with the other toddlers.”
“Despite few resources, she has learned to cope. Where we can, we adapt things for her. She has no problem navigating the bottom floor of the orphanage. Like the rest of the two-year-olds, we try to keep her on the main floor.”
Araceli studied the toddler as she opened her eggs. Instead of stickers, there were pompoms and foam letters inside. “What are her prospects here?”
“Probably what you assume. There is one school for the blind in Port-au-Prince. Fortunately, she is in the adoption process. Her adoptive parents have been working on learning Haitian, and some of the oldest children work with her each day to learn English. We are hopeful everything will be complete by this fall so she can get into American schools.”
“She is under three. Did the process get fast-tracked?”
“The adoptive family fell in love with her when she was less than six months old. They have been very persistent in their petitions. It helps that the mother-to-be is a special-education teacher. For once the
government officials agree that a fast adoption, meaning less than two years, is in the best interest of everyone.”
“How long is a slow adoption?”
“The average adoption takes about four years. That’s why when a child reaches fourteen we shift focus to prepare them to live on their own once they age out.”
“Wow, that must make the high school years rough.”
“You have no idea.” Kyle took Araceli’s hand and led her around the edge of the group to the door that went directly into the office.
Only twelve hours ago she’d stood in this same room, heart racing, wondering how fast he would send her home. “What are we doing in here?” He wouldn’t take advantage of their arrangement, would he? Most guys would. How far would he push it? If only she could talk to her roommates! Candace would have a ton of advice for her, but would she have a phone at a living-history thing? No way would she bug Tessa and Sean. Tessa already had too much to wrap her mind around, falling in love and then finding out Sean had inherited more than a billion dollars.
Kyle touched her arm. “Hey, don’t look so scared. I thought I’d give everyone out there something to speculate about, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take advantage of you.”
“I’m not sure I really want to be speculated about.” It was the opening she’d waited for to ask what she wanted to know since their kiss. “So, on the terrace—you knew Jade was watching?”
Kyle leaned back on his desk, putting his eyes level with hers. “I was fairly sure someone was, but I also needed to know if we could pull this off. If the chemistry was real. If you had forgiven me.”
“Oh. And this?” Araceli indicated the closed door.
“If we don’t spend at least some time alone, it’s not going to make people believe. Just so you know, Aselòm’s girlfriend’s sister works in the kitchens here.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. Now, if you don’t mind, I think we’ve spent enough time alone to raise an eyebrow or two. I’m going to go gather my group and start painting.”
Kyle took a seat at his desk. “I’ll see you later.”
She waved before exiting, biting her lip to keep from saying the first words crossing her mind: “Looking forward to it.”
It didn’t take long for Marci to corner him in the office.
“So, is it true?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door, preventing his escape.
“Is what true?”
“Did Jade really catch you making out on the terrace?”
“I don’t know that the kiss she witnessed qualifies for making out.”
Marci’s jaw dropped. “I don’t believe it. You have known Araceli less than three days.”
‘‘More like fourteen years. Her brother is Greg. He has come to visit a few times.”
“I know that, but I was, like, four when you met her, and I know she has never visited. Nor have you ever spoken. So that doesn’t count. So spill it. Kyle Evans doesn’t go around kissing random women.”
“I don’t know that I want to discuss my love life with you, squirt.” Kyle moved to open the door.
Marci refused to budge.
“I need to go help on the roof. I assume you are helping someplace.” Kyle picked her up and moved her to the side.
‘‘Fine. I’ll ask Araceli.”
‘‘Leave her alone.”
“Oh, you’re protective of her!” Marci clapped her hands with glee and exited the room.
Kyle took the long way through the building so he could check on the sewing and painting projects.
A couple of the older teens, including Tia, had finished their dresses and were modeling them, the smiles on their faces worth more than any haute-couture dress on Madison Avenue. The other children celebrated for them.
Chelsea looked up and elbowed Jade when they caught sight of him. He had not accounted for Jade when he’d come up with his plan to protect Araceli. She was subtler than a spurned Haitian woman but perhaps just as dangerous. It didn’t help that she had openly flirted with him for the past three years.
Tia ran up to him, speaking rapidly in Haitian Creole. “Mr. Kyle! Isn’t this the best dress in the world? And I made it! I am going to help Marlissa with hers, only hers will be yellow.” Marlissa stood nearby clutching a length of flowered fabric.
“I think her dress will be gorgeous too.” It was nice to see Tia excited about something. The first weeks after arriving, she’d resembled a zombie more than a child.
Marci stood at the cutting table, where she translated directions. All the volunteers appeared to be engaged with the children, and none of the children looked to be ignored.
Kyle took the ramp up to the second floor where several children worked at taping the walls of the hallway with the new masking tape. He found Araceli in the open classroom helping children paint their initials on the corner of the clipboards. He laid his hand on her back and waited for her to finish speaking. When she turned to him, he took her hand and led her out to the hallway.
“I need to warn you to watch out for my sister and Jade.”
Araceli made no move to remove her hand from his. “Marci?”
“She is tenacious and not always discreet. She’s more than a little concerned I kissed you after so short of an acquaintance.” Kyle hoped he wasn’t blushing. He didn’t want to admit to Araceli that she was the first woman he had kissed or even wanted to kiss in quite a while. “I think it best she keeps pondering.”
‘‘How much trouble will Jade cause?”
Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know. She has been ingratiating herself with my mother and Cassie for two years. But she isn’t . . .” Nice, creative . . . you. “She isn’t . . .”
“Okay, so Aselòm’s girlfriend will cut holes in my mosquito netting, and Jade will short-sheet my bed?” Araceli smiled up at him.
“I’m afraid Jade will be subtler than that.” Kyle gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you later.”
Araceli slipped back into the classroom.
Kyle found himself smiling all the way to the roof, where everyone worked in earnest to race the afternoon storm.
André helped Araceli write the names of each child in the taped squares. They placed a C on all the frames corresponding with children under age five and an E every five squares or so to match the empty beds in the orphanage. Any child over the age of five who wanted the opportunity to help paint their own frame could do so.
The younger children who didn’t go to school would help with the handprint animals that would be painted in the nursery hallway later that week.
Madison and EmilyAnne helped the children decorate their clipboards in groups of ten.
The crowd of children watching dwindled as the day continued. Araceli walked around to see that everyone was engaged before picking up a box of chalk. This was the only part of the project where she hadn’t figured out how to have the children do most of the work. As fast as she could, she created decorative picture frames around each taped off square. Attempting to make each of the dozens of frames unique complicated the process. Art Deco to Dr. Seuss, traditional to rococo. After the first forty, her arm began to droop.
EmilyAnne came out of the classroom. “I think we have finished with all the boards for the four- to seventeen-year-olds. There are definitely a few artists in here. I wrote down their names so you can recruit them after school next week.”
It was harder to read the paper than it should have been. Araceli looked for a light switch before remembering this was one of the rooms that relied on daylight from several large windows. Heavy clouds covered the sky. She wondered if the men had reached a point on the roof where they could stop without the rain ruining everything they had done.
Earlier that morning while retrieving the new tape from the storeroom, she’d noticed a pile of tarps a
nd heavy plastic drop cloths. Perhaps they could be used to protect the roof. “André, quick! Get some of the boys and come to the storeroom.”
They reached the child gate at the top of the outside stairway just as the first droplets fell from the sky.
“Kyle, Tanner, Boyd!” she yelled to get the attention of the men.
Boyd jogged over. “Where did you find these? We were wishing we had purchased some.” He took a folded tarp from one of the boys and passed it to Tanner.
“They were in the storeroom with the paint.”
Kyle reached for the drop cloths she carried. “Good thinking.” His hand brushed hers, for a second the rain, men, and children faded into the background.
When the connection broke, Araceli was left with one thought. The acting felt far too real.
According to Boyd, if they could keep the rain off the section of the roof they’d sealed for another half hour, it would be cured. They stretched tarps between the solar panels they’d remounted where they finished yesterday and the still-unsealed roof. Racing to beat the real downpour, Boyd yelled instructions, some of them seeming to counter to what Kyle would have done, but once the tarps were tied down, it was evident Boyd had seen a bigger design from the beginning.
As they all moved back to check their work, Kyle stepped in a puddle where the water pooled near the edge of the newly completed section.
“Hey, is this going to be a problem?” Kyle pointed to the water around his foot.
Boyd muttered a word Kyle hoped none of the children heard, grabbed some of the remaining drop cloths, and instructed the others to do the same. “Roll them up like sausages!” In minutes, a makeshift dam had channeled the water toward another rain spout.
As the raindrops multiplied, the men took shelter in the enclosed stairwell.
Boyd looked at his watch. “Come on! Fifteen more minutes!” he yelled at the sky.
