Inner Diva (12 page)

She rang the doorbell and waited.

Luisa answered the door with a mighty fling,
throwing herself into Monica’s arms. Monica wrapped her arms around
the little girl.

“It’s School Carnival day! We have to look
for my poster. Everyone in my class made a carnival poster, and
guess what. Mine was one of only six picked!”

“That’s fantastic,” Monica marveled.

“You have to help me look for it in the
hallways. It has my name on it and everything.” Luisa pulled away
from Monica to allow her to come into the house.

“Big day, big day,” Mrs. Garcia said,
striding into the room. “She’s been excited all week.”

Monica smiled. During the last few weeks,
she’d missed Mrs. Garcia because of her work schedule. “You’re
looking well,
senora
.” As she gazed at the woman, the
terrible story Carlos had shared came back to her. This woman had
survived tragedy, losing a husband and a son. Yet, she was a happy,
positive woman with a strong work ethic and the desire to raise her
little daughter right.

“I come for an hour, then I go to work.”

Monica smiled. So it would be the three of
them. Carlos hadn’t emerged. That in itself was a strong statement.
He had made it clear at the beginning he wouldn’t allow Monica to
take Luisa out without him. His absence showed how strongly he must
want to avoid her.

She sighed. Would this romance end as quick
and fierce as it had begun? She hoped not, but by all appearances
it was true. Would she get the chance to talk to him and get to the
bottom of it? For a moment, she was sad, mourning the loss of …
what?

Potentially mind-blowing sex.

The uncharacteristic thought caught her by
surprise and she coughed. Mrs. Garcia patted her on the back,
bustled away and returned with a glass of water. “There, there.
Drink.”

Monica sipped the cool water and took a deep
breath. She peeked at the older woman over the rim of her glass and
felt her face flush. If Mrs. Garcia knew how attracted she was to
her son, would she approve of them dating? Or would she prevent her
from spending time with Luisa? Not that it mattered now.

“I’m fine, thank you. I must have swallowed
something wrong.” Monica took the glass back to the kitchen and
returned.

Luisa emerged wearing different clothes. “I
wasn’t sure if Brittany was going to wear the same outfit so I
decided to change just in case.”

Mrs. Garcia clucked her tongue and shook her
head. “
Ay, Dios mio
, that child.”

Monica ruffled her hair. “Ready to go?”

Luisa smiled and nodded, her eyes sparkling.
They headed toward the door while Mrs. Garcia slipped into her
coat. Before Monica could touch it, the door opened and Carlos
walked through. Monica’s heart jumped at the sight of him. She felt
like she sat on a roller coaster, her heart along for the ride.

“Oh, hello.”

Luisa saved her from coming up with anything
else to say. “Carlos! We’re going to the School Carnival. My poster
was picked to go in the hallway. Do you want to go?”

He squatted down to her height and she looked
at him expectantly. Monica didn’t know about Luisa, but the
suspense was killing her. “Of course I want to go, sis. That’s why
I came home early from work.”

Luisa jumped into his arms. Monica watched
his eyes squeeze shut as he hugged her. She was so enjoying the
sight of this beautiful man savoring a simple hug from his little
sister, it took her a moment to recognize the impact of what he’d
said.

He was coming with them. Carlos opened his
eyes and made contact with hers, still holding on to Luisa. His
gaze seemed to pulse with electric heat.

Hmm. Let the games begin.

Mrs. Garcia wrapped a woolen scarf around her
neck. “Luisa, you come with me in my car. I only have a little time
with you.”

“Okay!” Luisa gave Monica a quick wave. “See
you in a few minutes.”

Monica glanced over at Carlos. He pulled his
keys out of his pocket, held them up and shook them like a bell.
“I’m game if you are.”

“Fine.”

They locked up the house and walked to the
car in silence. He unlocked the passenger door first and stood by
like a sentry while she settled in. After he came around and got in
the driver’s side, he started the car and pulled away from the
curb.

The drive to school was not far, and Monica
was desperate to break the ice before they arrived. “Did you have a
nice day?”

He darted a quick glance at her, then back to
the road. “I suppose.” He drove for a moment or two. “How about
you?”

“Uh huh.”

Silence loomed. Enough was enough.

“Car –“ she began.

“I don’t –“ They both stopped and looked at
each other, a conversational traffic jam.

“Go ahead.” Carlos inclined his head.

The only thing she could think to say to him
was, “Why haven’t you called me?” But of course, she didn’t. That
sounded needy, even to her.

“I’ve missed talking to you this week.” Same
message, less desperate. She hoped.

Carlos sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t
called.”

Monica half-expected the tired old line,
“I’ve been busy,” but he didn’t say it. In fact he didn’t say
anything further. “Oh, it’s okay. Really.”

As they rode, Monica knew she had to kick it
into high gear to bring them to some kind of resolution before they
got to the school. “Carlos, does the reason you haven’t called me
have something to do with our last date?”

He looked over at her and the creases that
formed on his forehead told her she had hit the problem on the
head.

“Because I had a really good time.”

He evidently hadn’t, or he would’ve called
her.

They arrived at the school, parked in the lot
next to his mother’s car and got out. Luisa raced over to Monica,
grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the school. Conversation
with Carlos would just have to wait till later.

Or not.

“
Hermanita
, go into the school with
Mama. I want to talk to Monica alone.”

His demanding tone stopped Luisa cold. She
raised a questioning brow at Monica. Mrs. Garcia approached and
reached out for her daughter’s hand. “Come,
hija
. They be
along later.”

When they moved on, Carlos faced Monica and
drew a breath. He puffed it out and his eyes captured hers until
she shuddered from the intensity. “I’m out of my league,
Monica.”

Monica nodded, although she had no idea what
league he was referring to.

“I’m not sure what to …” He gave his head a
fierce shake. “I never should have told you all that the other
night. My problems are my problems and I shouldn’t have burdened
you.”

Monica shook her head, spinning from his
revelation. “No, Carlos. I’m glad you told me. Your past is part of
you. It helped form you into who you are.”

The crease between his eyes deepened.

“What you told me. It was an incredibly
painful story. But it’s part of your past, and you moved beyond it.
In fact, I admire you and your mother so much for that.”

“No.” He turned away, ran his hand through
his dark hair, leaving a trail of crevices through its waves. “Not
that. I know it’s sad, but I’ve told people the story before. I’m
not talking about that.”

Monica placed her hand on his back. She knew
he was struggling and maybe she could fortify him.

“I never should have told you the other
stuff.”

Monica’s mind raced. What other stuff?

He faced her. Her fingers trailed over his
stomach. The firm ridges under his sweatshirt unleashed a flutter
to invade her insides. “I appreciate your openness. In my opinion,
we should be as open with each other as possible.” It was getting
harder to form a coherent thought, let alone a spoken sentence,
with her hand feathering his waist, close to his belt. In her
imagination she was ripping the shirt out from his waistband and
running her hand over his soft skin.

“I’m not the type to bare my soul.”

She stopped the wandering of her hand. “Are
you talking about your anger with your mom’s decision to get Luisa
a Big Sister?”

He nodded and turned away, putting just
enough distance between them that her hand dropped. She missed the
delicious contact, but it gave her the chance to get her head
together enough to respond intelligently. “Carlos, I’m glad you
told me. I’d always sensed you were angry, but I had no idea why.
Now at least I know.”

He turned to look at her and she could see a
firestorm of turmoil in his eyes.

“You’re not still angry, right?”

He gave his head a brisk shake. “No. I think
you’re great with Luisa. You’re a good role model. She’s lucky to
have you.”

“I’m the lucky one. She’s a sweet girl. So
bright, enthusiastic, eager.” She shook her head, thinking about
the good time she had with Luisa. “Reminds me of myself at her
age.”

She let the statement float for a moment
before she peeked up at Carlos, concealing her grin. He laughed.
“Modesty: one of your best traits, right?”

When the laughter subsided Monica said,
“Carlos, don’t ever worry about telling me too much or revealing
too much. You don’t have to worry about telling me something that
makes me see you in a bad light. I believe in total honesty in
relationships. It’s the only way.”

He stilled, his eyes glazed for a second
while he pondered her words. Then, he looked up at her. “We okay?”
he asked softly, his eyes expectant.

Her heart jumped with a thrill that he
actually encompassed him and her in the word “we.” “Better than
okay.”

He smiled, and they joined hands and headed
toward the school.

At the end of the evening, Carlos and Monica
led Luisa back to the car, tired but excited, and burdened down
with her prizes from the carnival booths. Luisa had played each of
the carnival games twice through. Making frequent visits to the
Chip Redemption room, she selected a wide array of cheap-o toys:
lipsticks, stickers and toys.
Junk
, in other words. Or, to
Luisa,
treasure
.

They located her award-winning poster. It
occupied what Luisa decided was a place of honor, right beside the
popcorn machine in the cafeteria. It would continue to hang there
for another week before she was allowed to bring it home.

They loaded Luisa’s stuff into Carlos’ trunk.
“How about ice cream?” Carlos asked.

Luisa grinned and nodded. Who was Monica to
argue?

Carlos turned to her. “How about that place
near your house?”

“Ellis’ Ice Cream Emporium?”

“That’s the one.”

She knew almost instantly which one he meant
because she’d been a primo customer there for years. It was like an
ice cream buffet line – you started at one end with a plain scoop
or two of ice cream, then you moved through the line adding your
choice of a thousand toppings till you reached the end with your
concoction and realized that you had to eat it somehow. A perfect
way to top off the evening.

A short time later, they pulled into the
parking lot. After going through the line, they headed to a table,
Carlos holding Luisa’s bowl while she selected a seat. Monica slid
into the chair beside Luisa.

“Monica?”

Without looking, she knew who’d said it.
After all, she’d grown up with that voice: it was Barbie.

She looked up and saw not only Barbie, but
Mae, Spencer and Rick. The Jefferson family, out for an ice cream
treat. Monica painted a smile on her face. Her stomach knotted as
she awaited Barbie’s approach. She felt like a duck caught in a
hunter’s sights.

She gave her sister a quick hug, and then
turned to her guests. “Luisa, I’d like you to meet my sister,
Barbie.”

Luisa looked up and smiled, her spoon
hovering over her ice cream delicacy. “Barbie? Like the doll.”

Barbie chuckled. “Yes, just like the
doll.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luisa said and dug into
her ice cream.

A scraping of chair legs on floor, and Carlos
scooted his chair back and half-rose. He held his hand out to
Barbie, who now turned her gaze in his direction.

“This is Carlos, Luisa’s brother,” Monica
said. She was sure she could have thought of many other ways to
describe him – the man who makes my knees wobble, the man I want to
end my long-term abstinence with – but ‘Luisa’s brother’ seemed the
safest.

“Very nice to meet you,” Barbie said. She let
her gaze linger on Carlos’ face a second longer than was polite,
then moved it to Monica. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her tone sounded
secretive, like the chance meeting there was clandestine.

“We went to Carnival Night at Luisa’s school
and Carlos thought we’d enjoy Ellis’s before we all called it a
night.”

Carlos took a side step toward Monica and
rested a hand on her shoulder, pulling her a little closer. She
leaned into him. His aroma tickled her nose. The intimate motion
was not lost on Barbie. She raised her eyebrows.

“So, Luisa must be the little girl you meet
with every week.” She turned back to Luisa, who was making
excellent headway eating her huge sundae.

Monica nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Spencer and Mae made their way over. Monica
saw Rick waving from his solo spot at their table. She smiled and
waved back.

“Aunt Monica! Are you getting ice cream?”
Remnants of Spencer’s creation decorated his shirt and his tongue
lapped his lips, but a visit with Aunt Monica was evidently a
smidge more important than finishing the melting mess.

“Yes, I’m here with my friends, Luisa and
Carlos. Luisa, this is Spencer – he’s four and he’s my nephew.”
Luisa grinned happily and waved at him. “And this is Mae. She’s
just about to turn one.”

Barbie gave a good-natured moan and reached
down to pick up her daughter, scrubbing at her face with a napkin
from a nearby dispenser. “She’s a mess. I better head them back to
finish their ice cream.” She turned to Luisa first. “Nice to meet
you, Luisa. I hope we get to see you again. Maybe you can come to
our house to play with Mae and Spencer sometime soon.”