“Oye, mija,” he says, laughing as she kisses him. He drops her back down and watches me. I place my hand over my brows to stop the sun from getting into my eyes. “You didn’t even hear me walk over here, did you?”
I shake my head, feeling like I failed in some way. “Sorry, I wasreading and I wasn’t paying attention.” He doesn’t scold me or say anything negative about it. He just nods.
“What were you guys doing?” he asks, looking over at the set-up of books in a bag and our picnic lunch, probably already guessing by the looks of it.
“Catalina wanted to go to the library, and I thought we could make a little outing of it, so I packed lunch for us, and I’m reading to her.” He nods, and a sad expression clouds his face, before it disappears just as quickly.
“She likes that,” is all he says. He hitches his thumb behind him. “I just had lunch. When I was walking to my truck, I noticed you and Catalina sitting here. Thought I’d come over and say hi.” He smiles, and it is breathtaking. I want all his smiles, and I want him to look at me like that. I don’t know why I say it, but it comes out before I can think twice.
“Do you want to sit with us for a bit?” I move over and then hesitate, wondering if he will laugh at or reject me, but he does neither. He watches me. He fixes his eyes on mine, leans over, and sits all while holding my stare. Catalina jumps into his lap, and I’ve never been jealous of a little girl before. It makes me smile at its absurdity. It breaks our connection, and I look away. She talks animatedly about the books she borrowed from the library, showing them to him, and he listens patiently, giving her his full attention. He asks me about my day with genuine concern, and I find a simple joy in our conversation. It flows easily, like we’ve done this before. Suddenly, I can see myself in this type of life. With a husband who looks at our little girl like she’s his whole universe, and is equally interested in my day. If I am happy? I startle from my thoughts when he takes a strawberry out of the Tupperware and takes a bite.
“Give me one, Papá.” Catalina opens her mouth, and he places one of the sliced berries in it. She smacks her lips loudly. “Juicy,” she says as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I hold out a napkin to Manny, and he wipes the juice from her hand before she wipes it on her shorts.
“Give a strawberry to Ms. Nadia, Papá,” she says innocently, and I face Manny abruptly. He watches me and then grabsa berry from the container. He brings it up slowly, the connection of our stare unbreakable as he lifts it toward me. I watch him as he leans forward, and I follow suit, like a tether bringing us closer together. Then he is there to meet me as he brings the berry to my lips. I open my mouth, sticking out my tongue slightly, and his finger grazes the tip as he places the decadent berry in my mouth. His breath hitches when I close my mouth ever so slightly on his finger before he can pull it out. His daughter, oblivious to what is happening to us, continues to flip pages of her book. I chew the berry, and he watches my lips. A little juice runs down the side of my lip and he reaches up and wipes at it with his finger that was almost in my mouth a moment ago, before he takes it and sucks on it.
It’s my turn to pant, trying to expel the liquid fire threatening to melt me from the inside out. My cheeks are hot, my core is clenched, and I am so damn close to combusting from this all-consuming lust as thoughts of him begin to swirl in my mind. He wipes his finger on his pants and lifts Catalina from his lap as he stands just as abruptly. He kisses her cheek, telling her he will see her at the house soon. He doesn’t say goodbye to me and leaves without looking back. I feel the redness heating my ears, and it’s not from the lust that surely evaporated the moment he stood up and couldn’t get away fast enough from me. Instead, it is replaced by pure embarrassment. I just hope that it didn’t cost me my job.
I scoop up the berries as fast as I can, wanting nothing more than to toss them in the trash. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at another strawberry without thinking of Manuel Torres. Catalina quietly gathers her books and tucks them into her little bag while I shake out the blanket and fold it into a neat square. I place it in the bag along with the rest of the supplies we brought. Slipping the bag onto my arm, I reach for Catalina’s hand, ready to make our way back to the car.
That’s when I feel someone watching me. I notice Sylvie sitting on the park bench. She observes me with a smirk, and I know she witnessed the moment Manny jumped up, desperate to get away from me. And from the satisfied curve of her lips, she seems to be enjoying my humiliation. I can’t help but realize that I am attracted to him just like she is. Except, she isn’t watching his daughter. I am.
Shame floods me, thick and suffocating as I fight down the embarrassment. My skin burns hotter than the afternoon sunburn, I’ll surely be sporting later. I walk away, clutching Catalina’s hand, more embarrassed than I was a minute ago if that is even possible. I vow not to let Manny Torres get to me again, because I don’t know if I will be able to resist him. I’m not sure if I could withstand the rejection. But one thing I do know is that after everything I have been through, he has the ability to destroy me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Seeing her there with my daughter punched a hole straight through my chest. I always envisioned my wife and I doing something like this with our daughter. She would take her to the library, and then I would see them having a picnic, and I would join them for lunch. None of that came true, but I fantasized about it. As I walked toward them, every step was heavier than the last, and I couldn’t help it because I wished it was different. More so, I wish this was my life.
The way Nadia is with my daughter is everything I wanted for my ex to be. She was reading to her, and it broke my heart. Her mom always promised to read her a story before she went to bed. When Catalina would walk into the bedroom to collect her promise, her mother would be passed out,high from some pain pill or anti-anxiety medication, telling me she just couldn’t cope. Sometimes I would find her asleep and Catalina by herself, sitting on the floor while her mom was passed out on the couch, claiming she didn’t feel well when I tried to wake her or ask what was wrong, but she never really felt well. The truth of the matter is that she was sick. Mentally. She refused to get the help she needed, and we all suffered for it, especially Catalina. All the lies and broken promises became too much to bear, and I knew I had to get out of that marriage. Not only was I unhappy in it, but it was hurting my daughter. I couldn’t stay in a loveless marriage for my daughter’s benefit just because I wanted her mom in the picture. She wasn’t acting like a mom. She wasn’t present. Not even a little bit.
I am ashamed of the way I acted toward Nadia. I let my feelings run away from me, and instead of confronting my problems, I ran away from them. I have avoided her all week, but maybe I can make it up to her by asking her to have dinner with us. Catalina likes her, and she is the only stable woman figure in her life now. Well, besides my mother and younger sister, but they are both out of state. I just hope it isn’t any more awkward after this. So, when I get home today, I will ask her if she wants to stay and hang out a little while I grill outside for Catalina and myself. It is the weekend of the Fourth of July, and I am off tomorrow. I know there are a lot of fireworks and parties on the lake. I am already prepared to take Catalina to see the local fireworks planned in town.
Pulling up into the space next to Nadia’s car, I open the door and grab my things from the seat. I stopped at the butcher store and picked up some marinated steak tips and stuff for a salad, and of course, I have some rice I can make to go along with the meat. I open the door and find that it’s unlocked. I roll my eyes, ready to comment about the importance of keeping doors locked even though we no longer live in a city, when I abruptly stop, watching the scene unfold before me.
Nadia is wearing one of my aprons that saysThe Grillfatherwith my name in the middle. Below are the words:The Man–The Myth–The Legend. My daughter has her arts and crafts apron on, and by the looks of it, has been put to good use. Her face is speckled with flour, and I think it is even in her hair. But what really gets me isthe loud music playing in the background from my little speaker that Nadia has logged into on her Bluetooth. The sounds of an old song that I can only recognize because my younger sister would watch the movie all the time, is about a little girl who wore a red ribbon in her hair and had awful parents who paid no attention to her. “Send Me On My Way” by Rusted Root echoes through the kitchen, and I stand there watching them together. Catalina shakes her hips back and forth while Nadia sings into a wooden spoon. Her voice is terrible, and I have to stifle a laugh because it sounds like someone who is in tons of pain trying to sing. They are scooping dough onto a baking sheet, and when the song finishes and the cookie sheet is in the oven, Nadia looks up to see me standing there transfixed on them. Her eyes go wide, and at the exact moment, she jumps back with her hand on her chest.
“Geez, you creep much?” She exhales, laughing and blowing at the pieces of hair falling out of her messy bun. But I continue to “creep much,” standing there watching her. Her cheeks heat, and she runs a hand, moving the strands just to smear flour across her face, and I smile. A genuine smile that makes me all warm and tingly inside. The kind of smile I have always wanted, because the excitement in my daughter’s voice as she runs over to me, is priceless. It’s a gift, and this woman whom I have ignored all week and treated poorly, though no fault of her own, has caused this transformation in Catalina, and I am beginning to think that it isn’t only her who is changing for the better, but me, too. I barely have time to put the groceries down when Catalina launches herself into my arms, and I catch her with one arm as I walk over to the kitchen. I’m a mess from work today, but they are too. I place Catalina down, and Nadia is looking around awkwardly. If she were my wife, I would kiss her with every emotion I feel at seeing her with our daughter like this. It’s all I ever wanted for her—for us.
“I wasn’t expecting you home this early, and I still have to clean up, but after you get out of the shower, I should have mostly everything back in order,” she says nervously. I ignore her comments and advance closer.
“What did you guys make? It smells good.” She smiles.
“We just made some Toll House chocolatechip cookies, but we added a few butterscotch chips to them.” I smile, and she looks away shyly.
“That’s my favorite,” I inform her. She starts to collect the dishes, placing them in the soapy water.
“I know,” she says softly, almost too low for me to hear, but I did. I heard her say it, and I can’t help but think that maybe she wanted to make them for me. So I proceed to ask her about tonight.
“Well, since you were so kind as to make my favorite cookies, how about I grill for you? I planned on grilling tonight because I have tomorrow off, and I thought maybe you’d like to stay for dinner?” I pause before continuing, and she looks up at me, meeting my eyes. “With us.” Just to clarify, in case she doesn’t understand. She searches my eyes for something, and I don’t know what she is looking for, but I want to give it to her. If she asks me for something, I want to make it happen because I have come to love her smile and see the loneliness or sadness that always lingers. After all, when she smiles at me, I feel it, too. The loneliness and despair, hell, maybe even the failure of my marriage, seem to dissipate, and I think perhaps I can find someone who looks at me like that. Like I am her whole world, and in turn, I can look at her the same way. To have a partner in this life, a true partner where we share things with one another, and also the responsibilities. We fight our struggles head-on as a team and find comfort in the fact that someone else has your back and is there to lift you up when you fall. To be the comfort you seek and the love you live for.
She nods, and the blush that creeps up her cheeks is adorable. “I’m going to go shower, and then I’ll start on dinner, okay?” I fight the urge to touch her. To reach for her arm just to feel the way her skin pebbles underneath my touch.
She nods. “Okay, I’ll clean up here and help Catalina get changed. Hopefully she didn’t drag the flour into her room.” She grimaces.
“Don’t worry about it. That is something we can clean. I’ve seen her happier these past few weeks than I have in a very long time. She can get as dirty as she wants.”
She scoffs. “Sure, you say that now.”
I bite back a grin and shake my head as I turn away, making sure she doesn’t catch the smirk tugging at my lips after her sassyremark. I walk off toward my room, shutting the door behind me. I don’t think she noticed I still had my lunch bag in my hand, but thankfully, it did just enough to hide the very obvious tent in my pants. Watching the blush creep up her neck to her cheeks made me wonder what else might be that same pretty rosy hue. The image makes me damn near salivate at the thought of just one taste. I drop the lunch box on my chair by the closet, and press my palm over the ache straining against my zipper. It’s almost painful now. So many times, I stroked myself to the thoughts of her and the feeling of her lips on my finger when I gave her that strawberry, wondering how that mouth would feel on my cock instead.
