Chapter 8
David couldn’t wait to see Zita again. She’d sounded so stressed and busy during the week that he wanted to get her away from Casa Flanagan. With that in mind, something low key was in order for their date. Dinner somewhere quiet and a movie. He was picking her up this time, so he’d booked a restaurant near to where she lived on the outskirts of Houston and checked the local movie theaters for what was showing.
In keeping with the casual date, he dressed in jeans and his favorite leather jacket and went to pick her up.
As he pulled into the address she’d given him, he stared. The house was huge, two stories high, and surrounded by a myriad of tropical plants. The property had to be a couple of acres at least, and there was an orchard and a few cottages next to the main house. It was very homey. The front door flew open and Carmen strode out, heading for the van that was parked to one side. She was quickly followed by a teenager holding a baby, and both were crying. Zita was right behind them, helping them into the car. He pulled over so not to block the driveway as Carmen tore down it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Zita as he got out of the car.
Zita sighed. “Julio has a fever. Alejandra is convinced he’s going to die, and Mama’s taking them to the hospital.”
Concerned, he asked, “Is he going to be all right?”
“I suspect it’s to do with his teething and he’ll be fine, but if it’s one thing we Salvadorans know, it’s how to be emotional.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Welcome to Casa Flanagan.”
Her eyes were shadowed and her posture slumped. She was almost defeated. David pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “Rough week?”
“Yeah.” She squeezed him and then stepped back. “I’m so sorry, David. I’m not going to be able to go out tonight. I need to look after the girls.”
“Aren’t they old enough to take care of themselves?” They were teenagers, and his parents had left him alone at that age.
“Elena’s just home with her new baby and she shouldn’t be left alone. She’s too nervous still.”
Disappointment curled in his stomach. He wasn’t used to dating someone with these kinds of responsibilities. He’d been looking forward to getting her away and spending time with her. “I could stay here, help you with the girls.” How hard could it be?
“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s a madhouse today.”
David shrugged. “You didn’t ask, I offered.” He took her hand and led her toward the house. “I can go get food for dinner, and we can keep an eye on the girls together.” What time did teenagers normally go to bed?
She stared at him for a long moment. “I’m not sure you understand what you’re getting yourself in for, but I’m so tired I’m going to say yes.”
His stomach rolled over at her ominous tone.
It took about five seconds for David to realize Zita hadn’t been kidding about the madhouse. The girls were gathered in the living room, and as Zita walked in they started speaking rapidly in Spanish.
Their voices got higher and louder as the argument continued. One girl, who he assumed was Elena because she was holding a tiny baby, looked fearful and was angling the baby away from the group. A younger girl, perhaps Beatriz, hovered around her.
Each girl spoke over the other, without taking a breath, getting more and more worked up.
He glanced toward the entrance. He was way out of his depth.
“Enough!” Zita yelled and the girls shut up. “Julio is going to be fine. His fever is probably related to his teething, which is something every baby goes through. Elena, you don’t need to worry about Xaviera catching anything. She’s crying because she’s hungry, not because she’s sick. Now, it’s time we all ate. Mama prepared some chili before she left. Larissa, set the table, and the rest of you wash up.”
To David’s relief, the girls all left to do what Zita had told them, with the exception of Elena, who stood crying in the center of the room. “I didn’t know Xaviera was hungry. I’m a bad mother.”
Oh hell. He hated tears.
Zita went over to the young girl and led her to the sofa. “Sit down.”
She did, clutching her baby to her chest.
“You’re a new mama, so it will take a while for you to distinguish the cries and learn the signs. I know because I’ve been through it with Julio and several other babies over the years. When they’re so young, all they do is eat, cry and sleep. Now, is your milk flowing all right?”
“Yes.” Elena lifted up one side of her top to start breastfeeding.
David glanced away, staring at the family photos on the opposite wall. What was he supposed to do now? Hang around here with Zita while not looking at the breastfeeding mother? Was it all right to acknowledge her breastfeeding or should he ignore it completely? He didn’t know the conventions for this kind of thing.
“David, do you want to help me dish up?”
