The boy’s crooked smile, the delighted way he smoothed down the front of his dress shirt and tie, lightened Ben’s mood. Reminding him of the reason they were all here tonight. Another common goal he and Julia shared: helping these kids.
“This place is pretty padre , huh?” Bernardo craned his neck, gawking at the intricate scrollwork carved into the tall ceiling, then gazing out at the ornate decorations blanketing the hall.
Ben grinned back at him. “Yeah, it does look pretty cool. Julia and the team have done an incredible job. And having you kids performing is going to make it that much cooler.”
Bernardo beamed with excitement.
“Okay, everyone, silencio, por favor !” Julia called out when everyone was seated in the rehearsal room. She waited until the chatter had quieted before continuing. “I know we went over this earlier this week, but I’d like to review the program. Make sure everyone remembers when they should join in the singing from their table, then start slowly making their way to the stage.”
Ben stayed off to the side, quietly admiring her ease with the large group of visibly anxious students. Even Rico, their fearless leader, thrummed his fingers on his knee, his expression serious, nodding in agreement as Julia went through their plan.
During the happy hour, the kids would wait here, warming up with the musicians. About forty-five minutes in, they would head to assigned dinner tables where they’d join attendees for the meal and dessert. The idea was for donors to get a chance to meet and interact with some of the kids. See firsthand the individuals they were helping.
After dinner, Ben would head back to the stage, only to be “interrupted” by Rico tapping out a beat on the plenera stashed under his chair. At a nearby table another student would break out a güiro , heightening Héctor’s hand drum beat. At that same table, a girl would join in with a set of pal-itos , adding further to the beat by knocking the two wooden rhythm sticks together.
A nod from Rico was the signal for the musicians to start the first verse of the carol and move toward two other tables nearby. The students seated there would rise, join the carolers, and continue heading toward the stage, picking up the others as they passed each table.
It wasn’t quite a true parranda , where carolers went from house to house, stopping to sing and eat, before heading on to the next house. Traditionally the revelry would continue through the night going from one house to another, the group growing in size until the sun came up.
Tonight, the kids would wind up on the stage where they’d sing a set of songs in English and Spanish. For the finale, attendees would be encouraged to join in a bilingual version of “Silent Night” with the help of lyrics printed on the back of each program to facilitate participation.
“Does anyone have any questions before I head out to check on a few items with the caterers?” Julia looked around the room. When no one raised a hand or voiced a concern, she clapped her hands together and grinned.
“Okay then, you’ve got”—she twisted her wrist to check her watch—“about an hour to relax, go over the songs, and get ready to wow this crowd. I’m going to run, but I’ll swing by in a bit to check on you.”
She wiggled her fingers in a good-bye wave, then swung toward the door. Only then, with her back to the kids, did a tiny V of concern crease between her brows. Without even glancing at him, she hurried by.
Ben turned to follow, hoping it was nothing more than typical pre-event stress rather than her mother’s appearance that had Julia troubled.
* * *
“Once again, we appreciate your attendance tonight,” Ben told the audience, scanning the hall and making eye contact with donors throughout the dining area. “Now, we hope you enjoy the savory meal Chef Salcedo has whipped up to give us a taste of Puerto Rico’s delicious cuisine. Afterward, we have a special performance in store for you. But first, buen provecho !”
On his “enjoy” cue, a trail of servers in white dress shirts with black pants and ties marched into the hall carrying trays of roast pork, fried plantains, and pigeon pea rice. Between the table chatter and the tinkling of forks and knives on china plates, the din in the room increased.
Ben left the stage to rejoin Sherman and Laura Taylor, Julia, her mother, and several donors at their table.
Julia sat beside him on his left, and while for all intents and purposes she appeared her usually poised, confident self, her right leg jiggled nonstop with what seemed to Ben like nervous energy. Occasionally her knee knocked his, then she’d wince, sit still for a few seconds, only to start jittering again in seconds.
He wanted to place his hand on her thigh, intending to offer calm or comfort. But even with the cover provided by the table linens, he kept his hands to himself, unsure how she would react to such an intimate touch. Especially with her mom next to her.
Midway through the meal, the discussion took a natural turn to the Chicago Youth Organization and the Humboldt Park Center’s mission. Eventually it circled back to Julia’s involvement in the fund-raiser.
“So have you fallen in love with our city and decided to move here yet?” Sherman asked her.
“Um, well, it’s been busy, but I’ve certainly enjoyed my time in Chicago.” Julia’s gaze cut to her mother before she flashed a wobbly smile.
“And she’s doing amazing work, as you can see.” Laura raised her hand, palm up, indicating their surroundings. “I have been waiting for the perfect moment to sit down with her so we can discuss making her stay here permanent.”
Both Julia and her mother gasped at Laura’s comment.
Paula glanced back and forth between her daughter and Laura, a question flashing in her dark brown eyes.
“Mami, no he decidido nada ,” Julia rushed to assure her mom.
Ben blinked in surprise. He would have said the opposite, that her decision had already been made. She’d told him from the beginning that her goal was to land a job here so she could stay.
What he hadn’t known was that, apparently, her family still remained in the dark.
“I know this would be a big change. For Julia and for you, Paula,” Laura continued. “While I believe Julia is interested, when Ben first proposed the idea of inviting you to Chicago, my hope was that by meeting me and witnessing the fabulous opportunities here for your daughter, you would feel reassured about my offer.”
“Gracias , I am thankful to be here. We are very proud of our nena .” Paula patted Julia’s hand on the table. “But her place is at home. On the Island. Right, Julia?”
Like a thief caught in the glaring lights from a cop car, Julia froze. Pained indecision stamped her features. Then she turned her gaze on him.
Ben sucked in a swift breath at the accusation burning in her hazel eyes.
Suddenly, his earlier dread rose up to grab a choke hold on him. Somehow he had miscalculated.
“Do you know what? I realized that we never went over that last minute script change for the second part of the evening.” Pushing back his chair, Ben tipped his head to the others at their table. “If you’ll excuse us. I need to make sure I have the correct sponsor information from Julia.”
Without waiting for anyone else’s response, Ben set his napkin on the table and gently grasped Julia’s elbow. “We should talk, right?”
Her lips pressed in a thin, angry line, Julia nodded. Stony-faced, she rose from her seat.
Chapter Ten
“How could you?” The words burst from Julia, threatening to drag the tears clogging her throat along with them.
Agitated, she pressed a hand to her forehead and paced the length of the room. Dios mío , she’d made a complete fool of herself in front of the whole table.
“Julia, I had no idea your mother was unaware of your plans.”
“Well, she knows now after that debacle.” Julia flung out her arm in the direction of the hall in frustration—with herself for her inability to level with her parents and with Ben for initiating her arrival at this crossroads.
“Is that a b
ad thing? That she knows?” Ben asked.
His question had Julia spinning around to glare at him. He stood near the closed door, hands deep in his pants pockets, his handsome face scrunched in a frown.
“Are you kidding me?” she cried. “This is terrible!”
“Why?”
“Why?” she mimicked, her frustration rising. “It’s bad that you forced my hand. That by . . . by interfering with my family life, I feel like you’ve forced me into a corner. Tonight of all nights!”
He took a step toward her, right hand outstretched in supplication. “You have to believe that wasn’t my intent.”
“Sí , I’m sure it wasn’t, but that does no good now. You promised not to push for more from me.”
Ben reared back as if she had slapped him. “I’m not. This . . . bringing your mom here, that was all for you. Because you’ve worked so damn hard and, you’re so close with your family, I thought you might want to share this with her.”
“You should have asked me.”
His mouth twisted in self-reproach, Ben bobbed his head in the tiniest of nods. “I see that now.”
Heaving a sigh filled with resignation and regret, Julia sank down into one of the padded folding chairs. This mess was on her really. She should have leveled with her parents sooner.
Instead, she’d put it off. Figuring, if she didn’t get a job, she’d go home and none of this would matter. But it did. Because if she went back to Puerto Rico, she wouldn’t be happy.
Ave María purísima , she’d made a mess of things now.
Dejected, Julia picked at the polish on her thumbnail, marred from her nervous nail biting. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Ben dragging a chair closer to sit by her.
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, if I started this snowball rolling . . .” He nudged her knee with the back of his hand playfully.
“Stop being so nice, maybe?”
“Excuse me?”
His voice pitched higher on the last word and Julia’s lips tugged up at his obvious confusion.
“I want to be mad at you, but you’re making it very difficult,” she complained, tilting her head to look up at him under her lashes.
Ben flashed his sexy grin. The one that never failed to make her insides heat.
“Stop that.” She swatted at his leg, but Ben captured her hand with his.
His expression sobered. “In all seriousness, I don’t want to mess this up.”
The sincerity in his blue eyes sucked the air from her lungs.
“I admit this is fast,” Ben rushed on, “and you have a lot up in the air. But you should know, this isn’t a game to me. Whether you’re here in Chicago or back in Puerto Rico, I want to keep spending time with you. See if this goes . . . where I’m hoping it does.”
Julia stared back at Ben, rocked by his heartfelt admission.
“You should talk things over with your mom. Be honest with her.” He rubbed his thumb gently across the back of her hand, evoking tiny tingles of desire that sparked through her. “Whatever happens, I’m on Team Julia.”
He pressed a kiss on her knuckles, then stood, drawing her up alongside him.
“Come on, we have a show to put on. I’m betting your vision and those kids’ charm is going to fill the youth center’s coffers.”
Still grappling with his words, on top of her concern over finally admitting her plan to Mami and her elation over Laura’s potential job offer, Julia made herself take a deep breath and straighten her shoulders.
The kids were counting on her. No way would she let them down. Even when her entire professional and personal life hung in limbo.
* * *
Bernardo beamed at her from his spot on the first choral riser and Julia gave him two thumbs up. The audience clapped wildly in a standing ovation as the bomba portion of the performance drew to a close.
Everything had gone according to plan, with the crowd’s reaction even better than Julia could have imagined.
On the stage, Ben tucked the cordless mic under his arm to join in the clapping. The kids grinned and hugged each other. Rico high-fived their guitarist, Diego, before stepping over to share a fist bump with Señor Pérez.
Eventually the clapping subsided and Ben reached for his microphone. “I think you’ll all agree that these kids definitely have talent and personality.”
Laughter and chuckles tittered through the crowd.
“We’d like to thank each of you for your generosity this evening, but before we close the show with our final carol, the organizing committee and I wanted to bring up one special person.”
Julia turned to Laura, thinking perhaps her mentor, as the committee chair, had asked Ben for a few minutes at the mic.
Laura gave her a smile of encouragement, but didn’t make a move toward the stage.
“Julia Fernandez is the visionary who brought the rest of us along for this culturally rich and magnificent ride. Thanks to her creativity, enthusiasm, and expertise, we’ve enjoyed what I think you’d agree has been an amazing evening.”
Once again applause thundered through the room.
“So, Julia, the kids and I are hoping you’ll come up here with us as we wrap things up with ‘Silent Night, Noche de Paz. ’ Everyone, please join in. Lyrics are on the back of your program.”
“¡Vete, nena !” Mami elbowed her as she encouraged Julia to go.
Bernardo hopped off the riser and hurried to the stairs on the right side of the stage. He held out a hand, his chubby cheeks rounding bigger with his wide grin.
Moments later, as she stood in the midst of all the kids, Ben at her side, with the cacophony of voices both on stage and off singing the well-known Christmas carol, Julia’s heart swelled with joy.
Mami sat at their table in the front row, eyes glistening with tears, hands clasped in prayer at her chest as she sang.
They had a frank conversation ahead of them. One Julia had been dreading. No matter what though, Julia knew she’d remember this moment.
Remember and cherish it for years to come.
Chapter Eleven
“How come you never told me, nena ?”
Julia’s shoulders sagged at her mami’s simple question.
They sat in the backseat of a private limo Ben had ordered for them after everything had finally wound down and Rico, Bernardo, and the rest of the kids had piled back into their vans.
Once the kids had left, Laura had shooed her off, telling her the event planner could handle the post-event wrap-up. “Your mother mentioned how anxious she is to see Rosa and the rest of the family. Don’t worry about a thing here. You and I can chat in the next couple of days about where you’d like to go from here.”
Moments later, Julia and Ben had stood in the shadow of a large Christmas fir in the grand hall, partially hidden from others bustling about in cleanup mode. “Let me order a car for you and your mom. You two need some quiet time together, before the hoopla of the parranda when you get to Rosa’s.”
“Are you still planning to come?” Julia had asked.
“Is the invitation still open?”
That he cared enough to ask, to not push like she’d accused him of earlier, made her even more hopeful that they might have something worth pursuing.
“Of course,” she had answered, brushing his cheek with a kiss.
Then she and Mami had left, with Ben promising to follow shortly.
“I was worried about disappointing you and Papi,” she admitted now as the limo sped down the highway. “El nego-cio means so much to you.”
“Sí , but it is just that, a business, and we are familia ,” Mami answered matter-of-factly.
Julia stared at the blurry city lights in the distance, wondering if somehow she’d lost clarity. Or if Mami simply didn’t recognize the pressure she’d put on Julia.
Ben had been right. She owed it to herself and her familia to be honest with them. If not, nothing would change.
>
Scooting sideways on the leather seat, Julia faced her mother. “You’ve been grooming me to take over for years. Earning my business degree ‘would benefit us,’ you said, remember? And yes, the knowledge will help me run the company, but not once did you ask if that is what I wanted.”
“And why would you not want to own your own business? To have a successful company handed down to you?” Mami scowled at her, the same disapproving look she’d given all her kids when she was unhappy with their behavior.
“Because catering isn’t all I want to do,” Julia answered.
“The company I have built up is not enough for you? Is that it?”
The hurt lacing her mami’s voice pierced Julia’s heart. “Mami, I am so proud of you. What you have accomplished, going after your own dream, it fuels me.”
Mami huffed with displeasure, but in the wavering light from the passing streetlamps Julia thought she caught Mami’s mouth curving above the edge of her scarf.
“The boys are going after their dreams,” Julia went on. “Maybe Alfredo’s has changed, coaching and managing now instead of playing ball, but we have always championed them. I’m sorry for keeping this from you. I just . . . I only hope, some day, you can be as proud of me as I am of you.”
Her throat thick with tears, Julia wiped the moisture under her eyes with her gloved finger.
“Ay nena , I’m already proud of you. I have been since the day you were born.”
Mami opened her arms for a hug and Julia fell into the embrace.
Relief flooded through her, releasing the tears she had struggled to keep at bay.
They held on to each other tightly. Julia breathed in her mother’s floral scent, the same one she’d worn for as long as Julia could remember. It conjured memories of similar hugs, shared love, and the security of familia .
“Tonight was increíble ,” Mami said when they had finally pulled apart and she dug in her purse for tissues.
Julia blew her nose as she nodded. “Yes, it was definitely incredible. Especially the amount of donations! Ben and the kids did a fabulous job encouraging people to give more.”
A Season to Celebrate Page 34