And after ruminating on the situation for the last few days, she had decided that despite the mistruth, this fake relationship was perfect. She could have a holiday fling with this hot man and then neverhave to see him again. There was no chance of falling deeply in love, and even better, no chance of a long-term relationship where she lost all her independence. Carolina had spent a lifetime trying to stand up to her father; she didn’t want to ever have to answer to another man. Better yet, Blanca would be allowed to date. Carolina wanted her little sister to be happy.
Mamá looked at Carolina and beamed with pride. “Mija. Why did you not tell me that he asked you to be his girlfriend? God sent him to you not only to play Joseph but also to be your future husband. What a blessing.”
Oh God. Here we go.“Why is it so important to you and Papá that I get married? Blanca is dying to get married. Focus on her. Why can’t I just be a happy-go-lucky solterona?”
Mamá curled the iron tighter, straining the hair against Carolina’s scalp.
“Please, Carolina. Why do you want to be an old maid like your father’s sister?”
“Why not? Tía Luísa has a great life.” Her aunt lived in Barrio Logan, a small Mexican neighborhood in San Diego, with four rescue dogs and three cats. Wait—Julieta’s restaurant was in Barrio Logan—did her Tía Luísa know her? Or the Montezes? Carolina made a mental note to ask. Either way, Tía Luísa didn’t have to cook or clean for anyone but herself and her pets, and she could come and go as she pleased. It sounded like a dream. Sometimes, when the chatter of all the women in her house drove her crazy, Carolina wished she could escape to her aunt’s and not tell a soul where she was going. It would be pure bliss.
But Tía Luísa didn’t have an easy road to this life. She had been ostracized from her family for many years. When she was younger and unmarried, she spent the night with a man. Carolina’s abuelokicked her out of the house and forbade the rest of the family from seeing her. Carolina’s papá warned all his daughters that the same fate awaited them should they ever do something so stupid.
But Carolina would never defy her papá’s rules like that.
Mamá waved the hot rod toward Carolina. “Stop. Papá will hear you. I think he’s willed himself to live only to be able to walk you down the aisle.”
Carolina rolled her eyes. This was not the first time she’d been the recipient of one of her mother’s famous guilt trips.
Though, her words did the trick. Anxiety surged through her. “Did you ever think that one of the reasons I never wanted to date or get married was because Papá is so controlling? He wouldn’t let Blanca date until I did, even though she is an adult. Adela is an adult, too. I mean, he even warned Enrique that I don’t cook in case he wanted to bail. Whodoesthat? Is that my only worth? Cooking for my husband?” The hot iron scalded Carolina’s neck. “Ouch!”
“Lo siento. It was an accident.” Mamá made the sign of the cross. “But there is nothing wrong with a woman taking care of her familia, including her husband. I don’t know where we went wrong with you.”
Carolina sneered at her mother’s words. But Carolina knew exactly where they went wrong. When Papá had finally accepted that he wasn’t having a son, he’d taught Carolina about the farm. And she’d loved it. She had always been a tomboy. When she was a child, there was nothing she’d have rather done than play in the dirt, while Blanca was dressing up dolls, hosting tea parties, and daydreaming about her future husband.
Carolina had crushes on boys growing up, but they were never interested in her. She wasn’t unattractive; she just hadn’t ever focused on her appearance. She spent her lunchtime at calculator club rather than hanging out with the boys on the quad, and then she camehome right after school to work until dark. All she’d wanted growing up was a better life for herself to make her parents’ sacrifices worth it.
And she had done that. By herself. She didn’t need a man. Though Enrique didn’t seem to be controlling or misogynistic like her father, she was sure he had to be a player; he was too smooth. This was nothing more than a holiday hookup for him.
And it could be the same for her.
Which was why she was counting the minutes until he came over.
As if he could hear her thoughts, her phone pinged.
Enrique:Do you mind if I bring Tiburón?
She didn’t mind at all. But Papá would be so rude to a man with tattoos like that.
Maybe that would be a way to end this charade once and for all? Papá would be a jerk to Tiburón and Enrique would stand up for him, like he stood up for her when Papá declared her a poor prospect as a housewife. Then everyone would get angry, and the men would just leave. Soon after, Papá would no doubt realize that he’d pushed Carolina’s potential husband out the door and maybe even see the error of his ways, and then Carolina would be free. She wouldn’t have to date. She could live her life as a farm owner, buy her own place, keep her own company, and be happy. Alone.
But there was only one problem with that idea.
She wouldn’t get to kiss Enrique ever again.
Still, it had to be for the best.
Carolina:Sure. Tiburón can come.
Enrique:Great. See you soon, babe.
Babe...Wasshe his babe? Did she want to be?
“Done.” Her mom fluffed her hair. “You look beautiful.”
Carolina looked up in the mirror for the first time and gasped. She was made up as if she would be dancing Ballet Folklórico, but thefree hair was a game changer. Instead of a tight knot on the crown of her head, her hair cascaded down her back. Who knew she had so much volume?
“Gracias, Mamá.”
