Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  Chapter 12 ~ Jill and Milo Help Again

  “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” Jill Halsey’s voice tinkled like windchimes on the phone. “Because we’re putting on a party that you won’t want to miss. You could bring that new cutie of yours.”

  Antonio groaned inwardly. “I don’t have a new cutie, Jill. I’ll be celebrating Oregon’s birthday alone.”

  “What?”

  “February 14th, 1859.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. It’s an important holiday.” Antonio tried to sound light-hearted. “I celebrate it every year with all the other pathetic singles in the state.”

  Jill laughed. “You’re so funny. But what about that lovely new neighbor that the boys were raving over?”

  “Yes, she’s a friend … sort of.” He ground his knuckles into his jaw, wondering what their relationship status really was. January had closed with a biting chill between them. “I think I’m going to have to pass, Jill, but thanks for thinking of me.”

  “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to hang up that easily, Antonio.” Jill’s voice took on a playfully commanding tone. “I promise you will want to be here. The guest list is spectacular.”

  Antonio smirked. “Are you inviting all the soap stars and directors you write for?”

  “No, no. The Angels and Tycoons cast can throw their own party. I’ve got a little reunion planned.” She hummed a few bars, and Antonio immediately recognized the tune.

  “You mean a Team Northwest thing?”

  Jill’s enthusiasm burst through the phone in a rapid stream. “Yes! I’ve got the whole cast coming, and Parker, too. Everyone’s bringing their significant others—which, by the way, is a big deal for Parker, because her guy, named Guy—how funny is that?—has a bit of social anxiety. But he agreed to come because we’re all like family. Now you see? You have to come, Antonio! You’re my brother!”

  Palming his face, Antonio sagged back in his recliner, relieved the boys were in the other room and couldn’t nag him to go. “When is this going to be?”

  “Duh, Antonio. On Valentine’s Day.”

  “That’s next week.”

  “Yeah, so?” He could hear her eagerness through the phone. “Mabel and Mendel insisted we do this at their place in West Salem, and we can’t be there without you.”

  “Jill, I don’t have a significant other.”

  A beat of silence followed. “You do know that you’re Antonio Seneca, right? I mean, you could probably go stand in the middle of the grocery store and ask if anyone wants to go to a Valentine’s Day party with you, and pretty much every woman in the place would drop her broccoli and come running.”

  Antonio snickered despite himself. As persuasive as she was beautiful, Jill made refusing hard.

  But no. He couldn’t do this to himself.

  “Jill,” he spoke slowly. “I really don’t have someone I can bring, and I’m going to feel like a total loser if I’m the only one going without a date. Please say hi to everyone, but I’m not coming. Thanks, though.” He disconnected the call and closed his eyes.

  If only things had worked out with Zaira. How he would have loved to present her to his old friends.

  The phone vibrated on his stomach, and he swiped to answer. “Jill, seriously—”

  “Sorry, you’re stuck talking to me now.” Milo’s voice came through sounding only marginally apologetic. “This would be round two of the begging you to come. Round three will be my mom, and you know you don’t want to go there.”

  Antonio let out a silent laugh, half sad about his lack of a date, half flattered that his friends cared so much. “Milo, can I talk to you as a man?”

  “That’s usually how it works when we both wear trunks instead of bikinis.”

  Memories of time spent in the Halseys’ pool brought a smile to Antonio’s lips. “Okay, so there was a girl. A woman.”

  “The neighbor?”

  “The neighbor.” Antonio’s eyes flitted to the front door, imagining the tiny apartment complex beyond it. “We were kind of a thing and then not. It’s complicated.”

  Milo didn’t say anything for a moment, and Antonio got the impression from background noises that he was moving to another room. When he spoke again, his tone was subdued. “What happened?”

  Antonio sighed. “Hang on.” He got up and snagged his coat. Draping it over his shoulders, he stepped outside onto his front step and parked his rear end on the cold concrete. “Her name is Zaira Vasquez, and she’s beautiful and smart, and she brings out the total loser in me.” He went on to recount how they’d met, how he’d hired her and then arranged for Gabi’s care with the boys, how they’d grown closer over time, how he’d screwed up at the wedding, and how, when it came down to it, he’d failed. Concluding with a graphic account of Gabi’s shampoo incident, he sighed. “A real man can take care of the people he cares about so nothing bad happens. I’m not good enough to take that on. I lost my parents, I lost my sister. What if I screw up again and something happens to the boys, or to Zaira, or Gabi? I can’t do it. I don’t know how you were ever brave enough to propose.”

  “Antonio.” Milo’s gentle voice silenced him, and Antonio wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks as he spoke. When had he become a crying baby?

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you in love with her? I mean actual love?”

  Antonio shivered and looked across the street at Zaira’s door. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” He wiped at tears with the back of his hand, feeling the chafing sting in the cold air. “I feel so comfortable with her and Gabi, like they’re already part of the family, but then I … you know… really want her as a woman, too. She’s everything I could imagine in a lover and life partner.” He growled at himself. “But I’m not good enough for her.”

  “Let me tell you something,” said Milo. “I’m married to Jill Ripley.”

  “I know.”

  “Let me finish,” said Milo, unflustered. “I’m married to Jill, and all the guys I know figure I must be a real man because I scored this knockout of a woman with a body to die for, blah blah blah. Now I’m not saying blah, blah, blah because it isn’t true about her, but that doesn’t make me a man.”

  Antonio sniffed, unsure of how to respond.

  “And I’m about to graduate into a ridiculously well-paying job with a great future. It’s all lined up,” continued Milo. “And tons of people think that makes me a real man.”

  “It does. You’re a provider.” Antonio huddled his limbs tighter to his body.

  “Antonio, I started out upper middle class. I knew Jill before she had boobs. My awesome life was pretty much handed to me on a silver platter, and I didn’t have to go through hell to find it.” Milo paused, his voice full of emotion. “You, on the other hand, have been a man since puberty. You worked to help support your family in Mexico. You earned money for your mom’s medicine.”

  “But she died anyway!” blurted Antonio.

  “Not your fault,” said Milo firmly. “You did your part. You did what you could do. You were just a kid, but you were already a man.” He paused as if gathering steam. “And when you lost your dad and your sister, instead of crumpling up and falling apart like 99% of the people on the planet would do, you found a way to get out of there. You took initiative and got yourself and your little brothers up here. They were so little. You were so little, but you were a man already. Don’t you see it?”

  Antonio’s eyes brimmed with more tears, but they held a changing emotion. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Since you got here, you’ve worked hard. You learned English better than half my friends.”

  A soft laugh escaped Antonio, sending a puff of breath up into the lamplight.

  “You’ve raised those boys and provided for them. You took a chance on Soap Star and made a killing, a well-deserved killing that shook up all the expectations of what a Mexican immigrant could do.”

  Antonio smiled at this. “Yeah.”

  “And you didn’
t go blow it on a fancy sports car or a wild-party vacation all over Europe or something. You used the money to buy stability in the form of a nice home for your family. You continue to work in a meaningful job, advocating for people who don’t have much. And when this woman moved in … well, it sounds to me like you did everything you could.”

  “But I still screwed up. Gabi still got hurt, and then sick.”

  “Antonio.” Milo sounded sterner. “No one gets it right 100% of the time. No one can keep everyone around them safe from harm all the time. You have done your best and wisest in every single step. That’s all any man can do.”

  “But—”

  “I take it all back, Antonio. You’re not a man. You’re a freaking hero.” The rant stopped, and Antonio felt winded by the kindness of Milo’s words.

  Swallowing hard, he stood up and stretched his limbs against the cold. “Thanks, Milo. Thanks for everything over and over. I feel like you’re always helping me along the way.”

  “It’s what friends do.”

  Antonio glanced across the street at Zaira’s door. “Yeah.”

  “I got your back.”

  “Thanks, Milo. Any chance you can get me out of the Valentine’s Day party?”

  Milo laughed. “Don’t put me in that position. But how’s this? I’ll tell them I convinced you to come, so they’ll leave you alone. Then if you come, great. If not, you can claim you got food poisoning from bad chocolate or something.”

  Antonio smiled. “I owe you one.”

  “You owe you one.”

  “Huh?”

  “You owe it to yourself to see if this thing with Zaira is salvageable. Consider this. If you were, you know, a family, wouldn’t it be easier to keep tabs on everyone? Work together with her to ensure the safety of all the kids?”

  Antonio’s knees buckled at the suggestion. “Spoken like a married man.”

  “Hey, I’m going to be chasing a kid around soon, too.”

  “What?” Antonio’s spirits lifted in an instant. “Jill’s pregnant?”

  “Yep. You’ll be able to tell when you see her at the party.”

  “That’s awesome.” Genuine joy for his friends warmed Antonio. “All right. Tell them I’ll come, and I’ll figure it out from there. I would like to see you and Jill.”

  “I’m going to repeat my question because you need to repeat the answer. Are you in love with Zaira Vasquez?”

  Antonio smiled, letting the tears fall, feeling a measure of hope take their place. “I am. I really am.”

  “Then make it happen. Offer her the family she deserves, and that you deserve.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk, man.” He took a few steps down his front walkway, breathing deeply and pondering Milo’s words.

  A family.

  Wasn’t that what he wanted most, if he admitted it?

  It occurred to him, as he climbed into bed later that night, if Zaira and Gabi became part of the Seneca family, his brothers would once again have a father, mother, and sister of sorts. The thought followed him into his dreams.

  Zaira kissed Gabriela good-bye and thanked Tia Julia again for coming. In the parking lot, she hesitated in front of her car. A small, plain paper bag rested on her windshield.

  Suspicious, she glanced around. It had rained overnight, but the bag was dry, so it had been placed there recently. Was someone watching her?

  She picked it up and got into her car. Locked inside, she turned on the dome light and opened the bag. “What the—?”

  She pulled out a bottle of her favorite shampoo. A post-it clung to its side. I’d really like to clean things up between us. Love from A to Z.

  Zaira’s mouth fell open at the sweetness of the gesture. He probably just felt bad because she’d lost so much shampoo during the boys’ watch, but still. It was very kind of him.

  She tucked the bottle into one of her cupholders and smiled sadly at the memory of how calm Antonio had stayed through the whole incident with Gabi’s brush with poison. They’d functioned as a team, and she realized with shame she never properly thanked him. Instead she essentially hurried him out of her life and said she didn’t need him.

  But she did.

  This wasn’t a case of a woman saying she needed a man around in a generic sense. It was specific. She needed him. His experiences had molded him into a remarkable man of integrity and kindness, two things she had found sorely lacking in her father and Mateo.

  A battle raged inside of her. Old insecurities clashed with all the evidence she’d tried to shove aside. If she were honest, she had to admit Antonio was beyond special. Not only did he show genuine care for her at every turn, he made her feel complete because he accepted her completely. He’d seen her in her grungy scrubs at the end of a long day. He’d seen her vulnerable and scared, and he’d seen her bossy and angry.

  And how she missed the feel of his arms around her, the way he so often shook with silent laughter, and nothing matched the soft intensity of his kisses. He was a perfect blend of passion and practicality.

  But she’d been stupid enough to scare him away by coming on too strong too soon. Then, when he’d shown any hesitation, she’d shoved him from her heart out of fear.

  Zaira eyed her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You won’t find another man like Antonio.” She knew that, for Gabriela’s sake, she couldn’t just play around in the singles scene, dating for fun. Love had to mean love, not fleeting good times. She needed commitment, and hadn’t Antonio shown he was exactly the right kind of man with whom she could build a relationship to last? She had to try again to convince him to take the chance.

  Swallowing hard, Zaira looked across the street at the Seneca home. It was time for her to apologize and clear up any misunderstandings with him. She needed to set fear of rejection aside and prove she could be a strength to him, a partner, and asset, and a life-long lover.

  But what if it was too late?

  She needed a sign.

  ***

  Mid-way through her shift, she entered the room of an elderly woman recovering from hip surgery.

  “Hey there, Gladys. How are you feeling today?”

  Gladys gave her a groggy smile. “Not quite ready to pick up a hula hoop but better.”

  “I see they unhooked your pain med drip last night. Does that mean you’re up for a walk?”

  “A walk?” Gladys filmy eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, we’ve got to get you moving.” Zaira glanced over the charts. “Physical therapy starts this afternoon, but let’s see what we can do.”

  “But walk? Where?”

  “How about somewhere exciting like the bathroom.”

  A wry smile tightened the wrinkles on Gladys’ cheek. “You read my mind.”

  “I’ve got a shiny new walker for you. Ferrari model, but don’t take it too fast. Come on, I’ll help you sit up and get your slippers on.”

  “I left my bunny slippers at home,” said Gladys.

  Zaira laughed. “Why is it that I can totally picture you in bunny slippers?” She patiently helped Gladys to the connecting lavatory, glad of the distraction from her thoughts.

  When they returned to the hospital bed, a tall, football-shaped man with a shock of white hair stood in the doorway. “Gladys? What are you doing up already?”

  “Oh, Henry Harvey Herbert, you weren’t supposed to come until I was up and ready to dance.”

  Zaira laughed with surprise and turned to the man. “Hello. I’m Nurse Vasquez.”

  “I’m Hank,” he said, stretching forth a beefy hand.

  “Hank?” Zaira cast a sideways query to Gladys. “Not Henry Harvey Herbert?”

  Gladys chuckled even as she sank breathlessly onto the bed. “I call him that because the first time I met him, I couldn’t remember his name.”

  Zaira helped her settle back under the covers. “I think I need to hear this story.”

  Hank ambled in and eased himself into the chair at the foot of the bed. “We met at a
church dance when we were teenagers. I introduced myself and asked her to dance.”

  “He stepped on my toes twice,” chimed Gladys.

  “But my hands weren’t sweaty.”

  “No, they weren’t. Only boy all night.” Gladys nodded. “Anyway, I told all my friends about him, how funny and tall and handsome he was—”

  “But she couldn’t remember my name, so she kept using different ones. Henry, Harvey, Herbert, Frankenstein. Whatever.”

  Gladys tittered and patted her hair. “Word got back to him that I’d been swept away by some young man named Harvey.”

  “I was so disappointed.” Hank shook his head mournfully, but his lips twitched with humor. “I didn’t know she was talking about me.”

  Zaira cupped her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet! How long did it take to figure it out?”

  “The next time I saw him at church, I called out over the pews, ‘Hey, Henry Harvey Herbert! Who are you, anyway?”

  Zaira rocked back on her heels. “You didn’t!”

  “I did!”

  “What did he answer?”

  Hank cleared his throat. “I’m Gladys Finmore’s new boyfriend!” He grinned, giving the illusion his head would split in half like a plastic Easter egg. “She clapped and jumped up and down right where she stood until her mother yanked her down into a seat. We dated through high school and were married a week after graduation.”

  Zaira shook her head in wonder. “That is an amazing story. Love at first sight, huh?”

  “It happens.” Gladys winked. “I was a real looker.”

  “Still are, Sweetie Pie. Now hurry up and get well, so we can go dancing.”

  Beaming, Zaira patted Hank’s arm. “You stay right here and visit with her, and we’ll be sure to get her moving again soon.”

  Zaira had no idea how to waltz, but her feet moved with a happy dance out into the hall. Maybe this was the sign that she needed telling her that love overcame obstacles, that misunderstandings could be cleared up, that it was meant to be…

  “Are you sure, Jill?” Antonio’s heart skipped. “It won’t be an imposition? Is this crazy? I—”