As much as she didn’t want to think of them as being on the same side, she and Alejandro might have to come up with their own plan for putting a stop to their moms’ matchmaking.
If not, for the next few months they’d both be dodging annoying parental meddling like this.
Stomping back to the driver’s side door, Anamaría plopped down on her seat and cranked the car’s engine. She’d return Señora Miranda’s phone, but instead of the anticipated happy reunion, she’d see about brokering a truce with Alejandro long enough to get their mamis off their backs.
Chapter 5
“Whatcha doing, Tío Ale?” Lulu pedaled her pink tricycle up to Alejandro’s wheelchair under the covered back patio at his parents’ house. She craned her neck to look at the iPad resting on his lap.
“Sorting through pictures from a photo shoot I did for a magazine.”
“Wif lelephants?”
He grinned, charmed by her toddler speak. “Yep, with elephants.”
Eyes as dark as his and wide with wonder, she pointed a pudgy finger at the screen where a picture of a baby elephant played on the muddy banks of a slowly trickling river. Lulu placed her small hand on his thigh and pressed closer, her mouth open in a cute “oh” of surprise. Thankfully, she’d ridden up on his right side, away from his injured leg.
Alejandro slid one arm around her back, welcoming her. He angled the iPad, giving her a better view of the screen. “I was in South Africa, taking pictures at an elephant sanctuary.”
Lulu scrunched her face in confusion. “¿Qué es eso?”
“It’s a place where they take care of elephants when they’re hurt out in the wild. Or, if their mamá is ki—” He broke off.
Shit, he didn’t want to make her cry or scare her by talking about dead mothers and poachers.
“If their mamis can’t be with them,” he hedged. “Then, the caregivers release them into the wild again when the elephants grow up or get better.”
“Like Anamawía wif you?”
Alejandro blinked in surprise at the guileless question. “Um, well . . .”
Damn, out of the mouths of babes. Lulu was probably talking about his injury. However, Anamaría had kind of released him into the wild when they graduated from high school and she’d opted not to join him.
Similar to the released elephants who never forgot their caregivers, he’d never been able to forget her.
And he had tried. Damn, how he had tried.
Packing his schedule with every gig imaginable on the guise of gaining experience. Working crazy long hours. Carousing until late into the night and early morning. Staring at the bottom of far too many bottles. Hell, he’d even tried an ill-fated, short-lived marriage to a woman who eventually recognized the truth when he didn’t.
She would never have his heart. It wasn’t his to give.
Problem was, the one who actually possessed it had laid anchor somewhere he would never, could never, call home again.
The tense exchange last night with his father had solidified Alejandro’s conviction that the two of them could not live in Key West. Their perspectives were diametrically opposed. Always had been. Always would be. Alejandro leaving again was better for everyone, especially the rest of his familia, who would forever be caught between his father and him.
Lulu set her little chin on the wheelchair’s padded armrest, gazing up at him with innocent eyes. All chubby cheeked, eyelashes naturally thick and long in a look many models paid money to emulate, her pink lips curved in a sweet smile . . . his niece was a heartbreaker, all right. Ernesto would have his hands full when Lulu hit adolescence.
Kinda strange to think . . . she’d be the first of the next generation of Mirandas walking the halls of Key West High. Following in Ernesto’s and his footsteps.
Nostalgia for the moments missed tightened his chest, and Alejandro found himself imagining being here to witness the antics his precocious niece might try to pull. Along with wistful thoughts came the daunting reality of actually being responsible for an impressionable teen. Talk about stressful responsibility.
Remembering some of the stunts he had gotten away with, and those he hadn’t, alongside Anamaría and her brothers made him shudder. Carlos, the jokester, had already graduated and been connected at the hip with Gina by the time Alejandro and other Navarros reached high school, but occasionally he joined the melee. Back then saintly Luis had tried to be the voice of reason, with Enrique usually egging them on to cross the line and Anamaría balancing out the two. Alejandro joined the fray, practically considered another sibling.
Until that memorable July Fourth weekend, the summer before their sophomore year, when he and Anamaría had shared their first kiss. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, he’d been a lovesick fool hoping he’d been correctly reading her signs of interest. After that, the two of them had started spending more one-on-one time together. Much to her brothers’ dismay and both of their mothers’ elation.
“Anamawía tooked cares of your big owie, huh?” Lulu’s question drew his attention back to the present. She pointed at his left leg, resting on the elevated footrest, and shook her head. “No Band-Aids anymores.”
“You’re right.” He combed his fingers through her brown curls, marveling at their baby softness. “It’s getting better.”
Now that he was done traveling, the bandages had been removed and the pin sites were left to air out. The whole contraption reminded him of an X-Men experiment gone awry with its four metal rings spanning his shin and the K-wires poking into his skin, in one side and out the other, keeping the pieces of his tibia in place until the bone healed. Only his X-men rendition lacked the cool factor of Wolverine’s claws. Instead he was more like Professor X, stuck in a chair but without the mental telepathy power.
What he wouldn’t give to know what had been going on inside Anamaría’s head yesterday. If seeing him again had caused the same deluge of pleasurable and troublesome memories to rain down on her.
“Can I sees more lelephants?” Lulu touched the iPad screen. Like many kids these days, she already knew that sliding her finger across the glass would scroll to the next picture.
Now an adult elephant joined the baby in the river. A stream of water shot from her extended trunk in a glistening shower that sparkled in the sunlight and left ripples undulating across the river’s surface.
“A mamá lelephant!” Lulu exclaimed. She lunged closer, and her tricycle tipped over.
“Whoa!”
He lunged to his right to grab her. The armrest jabbed his ribs as he wrapped his arm around her waist, catching her before she fell. A jolt of pain shot up his left leg at the jerky motion. The bike clattered to the cement floor. Its handlebars with their pink rubber grip twisted, leaving one jutting up in the air like the front wheel.
“Uh-oh.” One hand clinging to his armrest, the other splayed on his bare right knee, Lulu gazed up at him with wide dark eyes. “I awmost felled.”
Her serious expression made him chuckle. Thankfully, since he had dutifully followed Anamaría’s advice and taken his medicine as prescribed, the discomfort in his shin dulled to an ache.
“Here, let’s see if you can get up here to look at the pictures. Careful, though, okay?”
Lulu nodded solemnly.
He handed his iPad to his niece, then grasped her under the armpits and lifted her up onto his lap with her legs and white sneaker–clad feet dangling to the right. She fluffed the skirt of her floral sundress with one hand while holding the tablet with the other. The bright pink material was a splash of color against his black basketball shorts and gray T-shirt. A shot of welcome color in the dreariness of his current situation.
She wiggled a few times, snuggling her warm body into his chest as she made herself comfortable, and he found himself amazed by how easy it was for a child to worm her way into a person’s heart.
“You good?” he asked, ducking his head to peer at her face.
“Sí,” she answered, already scrollin
g through the pictures in his most recent National Geographic folder. “Ooh, pretty!”
A stunning South African sunset filled the tablet screen. Blurring brushstrokes of varying shades of orange and red filled the darkening purplish sky above rolling plateaus on the famous Garden Route. Having grown up taking pictures of the breathtaking Key West sunsets, he’d always found himself snapping a sunset pic at least once during his travels, no matter where he went.
Seldom did the resulting photograph compare to those he’d taken at home. But he kept searching for the place that would eventually usurp Key West as his favorite. There had to be somewhere for him.
Lulu continued scrolling until she reached the last picture in the file. “More, por favor.”
Alejandro obliged, closing that file and opening the one from his stay on a wildlife reserve following his shoot at the elephant sanctuary. He’d spent a month assisting the team with their conservation efforts, including monitoring the Big Five.
His niece oohed over the series of lion cubs wrestling and aahed when she spotted the leopard cub napping with its mother. She asked him the name of the big gray animal with a spiky horn, bumbling the pronunciation of rhinoceros with her toddler jargon.
Alejandro answered her questions while his gaze traveled the familiar setting of his childhood backyard. The bougainvillea vines climbing the privacy fence were thicker. The flamboyán tree with its orange-red flowers spread its branches taller and wider, still a great spot for candid shots of a particular dark-haired beauty who’d been his first model. Not that he’d be taking any more of her.
The grassy area where he and Ernesto had played football and tossed a baseball back and forth felt smaller, though he knew it was he who had changed, not the yard’s size. The wicker patio furniture where he and the Navarros hung out was different, the old set damaged by either a hurricane or the usual wear and tear of a humidity-laden climate with frequent rainy weather.
The rumble of cars driving down Laird Street in front of the house and nearby Bertha Street around the corner melded with the occasional puttering of mopeds creating a familiar white noise from his childhood. A bird squawked from the flamboyán, and another answered from the flowering geiger tree in the Morales yard next door, and a musical conversation ensued.
Absently, he wondered if the Morales familia were still their neighbors. Or if, like many other Conchs born and raised on the island, they had left behind the rising cost of living and ventured to the Central Florida area. Their girls had been younger than Ernesto but had to be at least college age by now. Grown up while he’d been gone.
A light breeze lifted the afternoon’s humidity and carried a hint of the salty ocean and seaweed draped shore less than a mile away. Overhead, the rhythmic whirr of the ceiling fan created a lulling effect that soothed his tension. His eyelids grew heavy, but he blinked away the tiredness. Hell, he’d already slept more in the past two-plus weeks than he had in ages.
Lulu stopped scrolling. Her hand plopped on to the iPad screen at the same time her body went slack in his lap. Her head lolled against the front of his shoulder, and he realized his niece had fallen asleep. Alejandro had no idea if she was on some kind of schedule and this was her regular nap time or not. That would be his luck to throw the kid off her routine, mess things up for Cece, who was at a doctor’s appointment and might welcome a nap when she returned. His poor sister-in-law had looked like she was ready to pop. Though her due date was supposedly still three or four weeks away.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was almost twelve. His abuela should have called Lulu in for lunch already. Unless Abuela had dozed off while watching her telenovela in the living room.
Having adopted a “when in Rome” mentality over the course of his travels, a habit that taught him a respectful appreciation for different cultures and traditions, Alejandro figured it wouldn’t hurt to join his abuela and niece in a siesta. One of the many customs he welcomed when spending time in Spain.
Resting his cheek on top of Lulu’s head, he let his eyes drift shut. His body needed to heal. His mind needed a break from the onslaught of unwanted memories and thoughts of mistakes made. A short nap in the backyard where he’d once hung out with his closest friends, with the blessing of his cute niece in his arms and his medicine working its magic, sounded like a solid plan.
As was often the case when his defenses were down, his last thought before sleep claimed him was of that same dark-haired beauty with a long braid, a beguiling grin, and a beauty mark on her chin begging for his kiss.
* * *
The screech of the sliding glass door rubbing against the metal grate roused Alejandro from his nap. Straightening in the wheelchair, he rubbed at the crick in his neck and blinked, squinting against the bright sun.
Lulu shifted in his lap, murmuring in her sleep. Instinctively he cradled his niece’s limp body tighter in his arms and hunched over to press a kiss to the top of her head. He glanced at the back door, a smile for his grandmother on his lips. His friendly greeting wobbled when Anamaría stepped over the threshold instead.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said softly.
Her lips curved in an inviting grin, she moved toward him, her long braid swinging behind her. His ultimate fantasy come to life.
Dressed in another pair of figure-hugging black leggings, this time paired with a white and black AM Fitness tank over a bright pink exercise bra, the color complementing her white and pink Nikes, she was on her way either to or from a workout. Lucky clients.
He pushed the inane sentiment away. Jealous thoughts about her never led him to healthy mental places.
“She’s out like a light,” he murmured, gently rubbing his hand up and down the baby-soft skin on Lulu’s arm.
“She wasn’t the only one,” Anamaría teased.
The humorous glint in her hazel eyes, especially after her abrupt departure yesterday, was a welcome surprise, and he couldn’t resist joining her banter. “Oh, my abuela’s asleep inside, too?”
“Ha!” Anamaría’s lips curved with her husky laugh.
Lust raced through him. It gained momentum as he thought about the number of times over the years he had imagined kissing those lips. Nuzzling his nose along her smooth jawline to blow a heated breath in her ear. A move she had readily admitted turned her on. The urge to find out if it still did pulsed through him.
As if she somehow divined the illicit path his thoughts had veered down, the open expression on Anamaría’s tanned face slipped. Her gaze skittered away to the wide back lawn. But not before he caught the confusion puckering her brow, stealing away the carefree smile she’d offered him moments ago.
“How is your leg today?” she asked, her tone suddenly all business. No pleasure. “Any discomfort with that top pin site?”
He shook his head. “It’s fine. Better now that I’m staying on top of the meds.”
“Good. If you want to dial those back, I recommend talking to your orthopedic doc first. Maybe the physical therapist.”
She strolled a few feet away to lean a shoulder against one of the wooden support beams for the patio’s slanted roof. Arms crossed, she eyed him dispassionately before swiveling to face the backyard.
So different from the last time they’d sat out here together. Him on the love seat; her on his lap, arms lazily looped around his neck. Ernesto and Enrique cracking jokes from their deck chairs. Luis, already working for the city fire department by then, shaking his head at their younger brothers’ foolishness. All of them laughing and swatting away mosquitos as dusk descended, loath to go inside where their parents chatted after a shared familia dinner a couple weeks before graduation.
“Is your first PT appointment still Wednesday?” Anamaría asked, firmly entrenched in paramedic mode. Proof she wasn’t currently wrestling with the same useless nostalgic meanderings.
“Yeah. Midmorning. They confirmed via text earlier.”
“Who’s your at-home physical therapist?”
“I don’t re
member.” He waved a hand at the sliding glass door, careful not to jostle Lulu but frustrated by this inane conversation. “It’s written down on a notepad inside. Doesn’t matter.”
“Make sure you follow their instructions. And like I said, definitely take your pills before—”
“Got it.”
“Good. Because if you don’t—”
“I’ll be hating life even more than I do right now.” As if that were possible.
She tucked her chin, one haughty brow arched as if she were scolding a recalcitrant patient. “You’ll be swearing up a storm, paying for that tough-guy mentality your entire PT session. And after. Count on it.”
“Yes, Captain.” Fingers pressed together, he tapped his hand near his temple in a mock salute.
“Don’t be a smartass,” she warned, an edge creeping into her voice.
Good. Anything was better than her bland indifference.
Oh, he knew he shouldn’t needle her. Hell, she’d gone out of her way to allay his mom’s overboard concern yesterday. And that was more than likely the only reason Anamaría was back for another visit today.
Still, her apathy was almost fucking worse than the silence that had divided them all these years. In his current state, there was no way for him to avoid the recalcitrant doubts and regrets about her . . . about them, his familia.
Usually he’d get lost in the challenge of a job, of capturing the perfect photograph. The one that spoke of whatever inspiring story he sought to share through his work. Behind his camera he could forget about everything else, everyone else, except whatever or whoever he eyed through his lens.
Being back here brought far too many memories crashing over him like a storm-driven wave on the protected coral reef. Making it impossible for him to continue ignoring what he and Anamaría once had together. How her decision to not join him in pursuing the dream they’d woven together had blasted them apart.
Lulu mumbled in her sleep, shifting to burrow her face in Alejandro’s chest. His iPad slid off her lap, and he grabbed ahold of it, tucking the tablet between his hip and the side of the wheelchair. Gently, he rubbed a hand up and down her back and shushed her back to sleep.
Anchored Hearts Page 8