“You promise not to forget?” I see the vulnerability in her eyes and the meaning behind it. Her mom always promised her things and never followed through. It breaks my heart to see that look of distrust, like she’s just waiting to be left there after school, waiting for her parents, who said they’d be there.
“Never.” She smiles at me.
“I love you, Papá,” she says before returning to consume her waffle, and my heart breaks a little more for all the ways she was let down. I vow with everything in me not to be that person. I want to be someone she can always count on; nothing will change that.
We finish eating, and I wait for the bill to come. Odette comes over to chat with us as we wait. “Hey, honey, did you eat that entire waffle?” she asks Catalina, her eyes expressing surprise.
Catalina giggles. “Of course I did. I’m a big girl, and my Papá and I planted flowers this morning, so I was really hungry by the time we came in here.” She readily broadcasts our business to Odette and half the patrons near us.
“Oh,” Odette says, clasping her hands. “I love flowers. What did you plant?”
Catalina fully describes everything we did upon awakening this morning, down to the purple flowers we planted. “Look,” she says, showing Odette her drawing. “See, here are all the flowers at our house. I almost lost my crayon and couldn’t paint the door red, but that nice lady picked up my crayon for me and then ran away. Before I could ask her her name,” Catalina says. I turn my head abruptly, but the movement doesn’t escape Odette’s notice. Her eyes light up in amusement. I turn away, trying to feign disinterest.
“Oh, that’s Nadia. She’s a college student at Boston University and graduating this year, but she stays around the lake during the summer. Her parents have a house, and her family was well-liked.” I notice that she saidwaswell-liked, and I can’t help but wonder what they did to not be liked anymore, but if I asked, that would show that I’m curious. I also know that she didn’t give all that information to Catalina, but it was all for my sake.
Odette leaves, chuckling as I give her a little wave. The waitress comes to drop off the check, and I am ready with my credit card to pay the balance. I drink the rest of my warm coffee, and after placing my returned card into my wallet, I stand, dropping some cash for the tip onto the table and striding behind my daughter as we leave the diner. I stop her as I take hold of her hand, stressing the importance of looking both ways before crossing a street, always being alert to sounds, and listening for vehicles approaching quickly from the roundabout ahead of us.
As I approach the truck, I press the unlock button on the key fob so she can jump in. After I assist her in securing her seat belt, I walk over to my side, swinging my long legs over and into the truck, closing the door behind me, and hitting the ignition button on the dash. As I look up, that’s when I notice her. How can I not, because I can’t help myself? I see her direct her sight, looking into the driver’s side front windshield straight at me. She almost halts her steps when she sees me staring back at her. She holds my stare, refusing to look away as she approaches closer to my idling truck. I should drive off. A muscle tics in my jaw, but instead of being sensible, I lift an eyebrow in challenge. My lips twist upward involuntarily in a snarl.
“Look, Papá,” and that breaks me from her hypnotic trance over me. I twist my upper body to look behind me, breaking our eye contact. I pull away from the parallel parking spot on the street without glancing again in her direction, and I don’t bother looking back. Catalina forgets what she is going to say and begins humming a song I don’t recognize. All I can think of is that I’m not interested in Nadia.
CHAPTER NINE
The following weeks consist of the same agenda—cleaning the house and sorting through my parents’ remaining personal belongings. I’m on my last trip to drop off the items at Goodwill, and as I pull into the driveway, I see a familiar car. I park quickly and jump out, searching for the face I’ve been waiting to see for two weeks. That is when I spot Savannah in the hammock on the front porch. My smile widens as I run up the front steps. She jumps up from the stringed cocoon and into my waiting embrace.
“Love nugget, I was waiting hours for you.” She laughs while rocking me back and forth. I can’t help but laugh along with her, and God, it feels good.
“I couldn’t wait until today,” I tell her happily. “I thought you wouldn’t make it out here until tonight, though.” I look at her quizzically.
“Well, I left work early and decided just to leave. I had most things packed and ready to go, and I figure I could either borrow what I need from you or buy it here.”
I nod. “Of course. Where are your bags?” I ask, looking around the porch as if they’d magically appear.
“Ugh, I didn’t know when you were getting home, so I left them in the car.”
I snort. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Savannah rolls her eyes. “We really have to work on that snorting of yours. Well, it’s called a surprise, silly goose. What else?” We walk to her car to retrieve her bags. “There’s some in the trunk, too,” Savannah yells over her shoulder.
“What the hell did you bring? I thought you said you could buy stuff here if you need to.” She shakes her head in disagreement.
“Yeah. That’s ‘if’ I forgot something.” Savannah signals with one hand, making air quotes as she walks ahead of me. “I mean, I might have.” I look at her as if she had grown another head.
“Really? I don’t think you forgot a thing. I think you have your entire summer wardrobe in these five bags.” We get the last of her items into the house, and I help carry them into the spare bedroom, where she usually stays when she sleeps over in the summer.
“Whew!” She plops herself on the bed. “So what’s on the agenda tonight?” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Not sure. What do you feel like doing?”
She moves her head from side to side, contemplating the choices. “Dinner and drinks? Happy hour?”
“That could be dangerous,” I reply.
She laughs. “God, I hope so.” That was something we always told each other in college. When one of us had an idea, we’d go out, and things would always get out of hand. Hence, the “dangerous” comment. It’s been a running joke after a fight broke out at a bar we were out at one night. Unlike some of our friends, we ran out, barely avoiding getting arrested. So the almost getting arrested part, hell no, but the dangerous fun, abso-fucking-lutley.
“I could use a coffee,” Savannah yawns. “I’m so tired fromthe drive from Massachusetts and could use a pick-me-up.” She stretches out.
“I know what you need.” She stands.
