And Daryl thought because of his last name that Alex would be hard up for six bucks an hour. The blow reverberated down to the soles of his feet.
Victor shifted his weight from one hip to the other. “Uh, man, I gotta get back to that floor in the master and…”
Alex got more money from unemployment working on his own house than hanging drywall for cash under the table and no health insurance.
“Sorry to have wasted your time,” Alex said, backing towards the door.
“Hey man, the position’s open if you want it,” Daryl offered, scratching his dusty arm. “Wouldn’t be bad working a little while till you find something more permanent.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, and tried to outstep the humiliation that stayed with him for the rest of the day. He went back to the Starbucks in Long Beach, hitting the mouse key every five minutes to see if he received any email. No voicemail, no email…nothing.
If he could have, he’d have called off practice and then done what? As long as he kept his patience, he wouldn’t snap like the night at Isa’s.
“Hey Alex!” Andrew called, out of breath. “Can I help set up?”
Alex gulped down his water. He’d deliberately shown up early to set up the cones so he wouldn’t have to do it with Andrew. Dreading this, he watched Andrew jog across the field.
“I got most of it done,” he said easily, even though he felt like he’d swallowed nails. “So why don’t you get started with stretches?”
The more Alex thought about it, the more he realized Isa was probably right to keep her distance. Especially since he couldn’t get a decent job.
So Alex figured he’d back off slowly through the soccer season. No more pizza or fried chicken or video games. But that left him feeling strangely empty.
“Wanna practice passing?” Andrew asked with a big excited smile. The kid practically vibrated with energy like a puppy come out to play.
Alex stepped back. “Uh, why don’t you uh…”
But he didn’t want to do this. Damn Isa for even making him think that his friendship with Andrew was underhanded. He liked the kid even before he got mixed up with her.
He scanned the gazebo and the park for Isa. She wasn’t there. So what she wouldn’t see wouldn’t hurt her, he thought. “Actually I need your help setting up the goal net.”
“Okay,” Andrew exploded, taking off for the goal kit.
Alex didn’t want to be obvious but he had to ask, “Where’s your mom?”
“She had to meet with some of her students,” Andrew said, happily oblivious to Alex’s questioning. “Tía Susan is taking me home after practice.”
Chicken, Alex called Isa.
“Do you want to come over tonight? My mom doesn’t have anything going on.”
“You know I better not,” Alex started and then stopped when he saw a woman in sunglasses and a leopard print mumu aim a camera at them. What the—
The flash went off and she turned heel, her hands waving in the air as she ran—or more like waddled, he thought—for a baby-blue Beetle. He put his arm out protectively in front of Andrew, stopping mid-stride.
“You see that?” he asked out loud.
“See what?”
The Beetle’s tires squealed and it lurched forward, took a sharp left around the parking lot, and sped up the hill to the main street.
“That woman taking a picture.”
Andrew shook his head and then lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t see anyone.”
Alex brought his arm back. “Know anyone who drives a blue Beetle?”
“No. My Tío Memo has a red one, but he’s in college.”
“What about your grandma?” Alex started walking again, wondering if he should call Isa about this.
“Nope. Her car is brown.”
Even more curious, Alex asked. “What about your other grandma?”
“Mom’s mom? I don’t know what kind of car she drives. She lives in Las Vegas. She only visited once before and she and Mom got into a fight.”
Even though he wanted to, Alex decided he didn’t need to know more. “Do me a favor? If you need to go to the bathroom or something, go with an adult.”
“Why?”
Alex was calling Isa first chance he got to find out.
Patty’s heart still rocketed when she flew through the Ricky Martin beaded curtain into the back office. She made sure a second time that Alex Lujon hadn’t followed her and Juanito to the one-hour photo developing store and now, to the shop.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, opening the mini refrigerator and bending down to cool off. That was close, but it’d been worth it! And that Alex. She couldn’t remember what he’d looked like when Susan mentioned him, but now, she’d never forget.
Still, she couldn’t quite see him and Isa together. Isa had always been a little mouse, a pretty one but still a mouse and Patty never had patience for girls who let themselves get eaten by cats like Carlos Muñoz and his mama. But by analyzing Isa’s aura with Alex’s, she’d see if they were meant to be together.
A twinge of guilt made her hesitate when she set the camera on the counter. The girls didn’t know, but she started seeing Father Pat for counseling. Going to him made her feel weak and even more of a failure; on the other hand, it gave her some peace.
Father Pat said at their last meeting that she needed to have faith. He probably meant a different kind of faith than her auras and tiny, harmless little spells she bought at the botanica, but in a roundabout way this was faith. Patty didn’t see what a hunk like Alex could see in a girl like Isa, but maybe this was a test of her faith in true love.
Humming to herself, she ripped open the envelope. She got several photos, most of Alex’s back but only one of him face forward. This was bending the rules, especially the one about gaining permission to read one’s aura. But this was also an emergency and no one would know.
Well, except for Josie and Susan. And Juanito, who would probably tell Stellita, which meant Patty would have to tell Stellita not to say anything.
She propped up Alex’s photo, studying the colors that formed a halo around his head.
“Ay, where did I put that stupid thing,” she mumbled, ri-fling through all the paperwork stacked on her desk. “That’s where this went,” she said to a Nora Roberts paperback, and then flung it aside. Finding her book, Auras, she wrote down the colors and began cross-referencing.
“This isn’t right,” she murmured, rereading her notes. She flipped through the book.
Perhaps she needed to keep going, so she did. And the more colors she looked up, the heavier her dread grew.
The book clattered to the floor. Patty couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move save for blinking her eyes to the screen and the interpretation she’d written on the paper.
She found her cordless phone under the Yellow Pages and called Susan’s cell phone.
“Susan!” she shouted, not waiting for her to say hello. “It’s me.”
“Patty? What’s wrong?”
Her instincts had been right. She knew it! “I have Alex’s photo.”
“Alex’s—Oh! His photo. And?”
“Are you sitting down?”
“Oh stop with the dramatics. What does it say?”
“Susan, I think we’re making a terrible mistake.”
17
HEADLINE FROM THE SWEETWATER STAR NEWS:
RATINGS FOR ROCK HARD IN THE MORNING REACH
HIGHEST WITH THREE WOMEN AND A LOCAL BOY
“Oh darling, these days get to be tedious,” Joan sighed, fanning herself in the open doorway.
Isa nearly told her to be quiet, the students were taking a test. But then she remembered, she was the only one who could see her hallucination.
“Isn’t that the same blouse you wore Thursday? Good God, my dear, please go shopping before your students think you’re selling your clothes to support a drug habit.”
Isa slapped her pen down, mushing her lips together until she squished any and all blood in th
em. She cleared her throat and mentally told Joan to beat it.
So what if she wore the same blouse on Thursday? She didn’t have a lot of clothes nor did she have the money to be constantly buying them. However, she still mourned the cute skirt and lace top she’d seen on the mannequin in the mall. The skirt had cute lavender ribbons criss-crossing the front and back. The hem had a little flounce that would’ve looked perfect with a pair of pointy-toed sling-backs in a barely lavender satin.
“Really, darling, this is no way to live,” Joan commented. “You’ll die well before your time from the ennui alone.”
Isa knew the outfit wouldn’t bring her happiness. But she could picture herself perfectly in it. Then again, where and when would she ever wear it? The heels were too dressy for work and the—
Joan insisted on interrupting her. “If you hadn’t blown it Friday night, you could’ve worn it on a date with that tasty dish.” She stabbed Isa with a disappointed glare and then huffed as she turned to stare outside.
Isa glanced over and her class was staring back at her. She’d forgotten to call time for the pop quiz. Joan vanished and Isa went back to actually doing her job.
“Ms. Avellan, what are these t-shirts mean?”
Isa turned to Khadija, who stood by her in the doorway as a river of kids made their way out of the gates.
“What do they mean?” Isa corrected gently as she craned her neck to see what Khadija was asking about.
Khadija’s cheeks darkened but she smiled shyly. “Yes, what do they mean?” she asked, carefully enunciating each word.
Isa suppressed a growl when she saw the group of boys wearing “Rock Hard” t-shirts. Those shirts were everywhere. Like roaches. “It’s a radio show,” she answered tightly.
“Is radio show cool?”
“For stupid people.” Wincing, Isa tried again. “It’s a radio show that doesn’t say nice things about people.”
“Oh. Like those boys?”
“Have they said mean things to you?” Isa went rigid with tension. No one messed with her students and Khadija’s accent and her head scarf could make her a more obvious target among the less evolved students.
Khadija shook her head no. “Ms. Avellan, do I have to speak at the meeting with the uh, board people?”
Every time she reminded the students about their presentations to the school board at the budget meeting, she was met with more fear than indifference. Frankly, she preferred the former to the latter because at least these kids cared.
She knew that if the students themselves were to speak about how the cutbacks would affect them, they stood a greater chance of swaying the board’s vote. At least she hoped they would.
“You don’t have to but I think it’s very important,” Isa answered.
“My parents may not let me.”
“Speak to them and if they have questions, I’d be happy to talk to them.”
“My brother will be here to pick me up,” Khadija said, clutching her books against her thin chest. “Goodbye.”
After the last of her students said their goodbyes, Isa walked out the door and let the sun kiss away the damp chill from a day spent in an amped-up, air-conditioned room.
Opening her eyes, Isa saw June walking down the ramp. She left a wake of males twisting their necks to get a better look. Unfortunately most of them were wearing Rock Hard t-shirts.
“Sorry I’m late,” June gushed breathlessly. “I just got an email.”
“From Ted? How’s he doing?”
June paused and then a smile bloomed across her face. “Tired. And he needs sunflower seeds, gum, socks.” Her eyes glowed like a fifteen-year-old watching her crush cruise past her locker.
Isa couldn’t resist. “I bet Alex will be happy to hear from him.”
June snapped her gum, grinding on it. “Humph. That old grump? I guess.”
“Is something wrong?” Isa asked guiltily. She thought of that searing kiss and her hand clutched her throat.
“Wouldn’t know. That Alex wouldn’t tell you if he had a shovel up his ass.”
“Oh.” She shouldn’t have said what she’d said Friday night. And then hiding from him today at practice wasn’t making her look any better. But what was she supposed to do? Let him become this temporary person in her life—no, she meant Andrew’s life—and then have to explain why he disappeared?
Seriously, she doubted Alex would stick around for much longer after her period returned and the end of the soccer season. He was the kind of guy she fell in love with, not the kind who fell in love with her.
“You know, I think you were right not getting caught up with Alex,” June decided. “I mean he’s nice to look at but he’s too damn caught up in himself.”
“I don’t think so. He’s very considerate of Andrew and the kids,” Isa defended him before she could stop herself.
“Maybe,” June answered reluctantly. “I don’t know what’s going on with him lately.”
Isa never learned. “What makes you think that?”
“You’re pretty curious there, Miss I-love-Alexis-Carrington. Are you the reason why he’s been so moody?”
“Doubt it.” Isa hastened to change the subject. “Did Ted say when he’ll be home?”
“Five more months. We’re having Christmas for him in—” June’s eyes drifted away and Isa turned to see what caught her attention. A group of pregnant girls chattered away, walking out of the adult education building. One girl, dressed in an oversized Raiders jersey and black jeans, stood apart.
“Those poor girls,” June sighed and Isa didn’t hear the rest of what she said.
Seeing them brought back a tide of memories. Memories she had shoved back as hard as she could. “I could always tell which ones will keep their babies and which ones won’t,” she heard herself say out loud.
“What? How can you tell?”
Because at nineteen, Isa had been the one who almost didn’t keep her baby. The memories pushed harder on the door, demanding to be let out again. There was little joy when she carried Andrew. She loved Carlos with all her heart but he barely acknowledged her existence.
Well, if anything, she would always be grateful that he’d refused to let her go to the clinic and married her instead. If he hadn’t, she might not have her son.
“Just an instinct,” she recovered.
“I wish we’d conceived when Ted was here,” June sighed. “It would’ve made it easier, I think.”
Isa didn’t know what to say so she patted June’s shoulder. “You’ll try again when he comes home.”
“What if he doesn’t? Then I won’t have anything left of him.” June turned, the wind blowing her hair in her eyes. “Know what I mean?”
Isa wished she did. There was a time when she felt the same about Carlos but too many wounds left ugly scars on her heart. “Want to see if we can buy some Snickers ice cream bars at the ASB window?” she suggested, growing cold even under the warm blanket of southern California in early fall.
“If we’ll get them,” June sniffed, getting into the spirit and eager to walk away from the sadness. “You just watch me in action, honey. Closed or not, we will get them. And for free.”
“How do you get them for free?”
“You just watch me. You California girls don’t get much compared to us southern girls.”
“This is wrong,” Susan declared, throwing down Patty’s notes.
“But look!” Patty held it up, waving it in the air. “See this gray? It means Alex could be dying or he’s very unhappy. Either way, he’s not ready for Isa.”
“I’ve seen them together and I know attraction when I see it.”
“You thought Tamara was going to marry Ruben,” Patty accused.
“That was different.” Yes, indeed it was, Susan thought. “And that camera doesn’t mean anything.”
“And this,” Patty said, holding up the photo of Isa that she’d taken on the day of her makeover. Actually it wasn’t just a makeover, it was a transformation.
“See that, eh?” Patty pointed to what appeared to be a red silhouette of a woman with giant shoulder pads. “Isa has mother issues. How true is that!”
“That’s not her mother,” Susan snapped.
“Girls, girls!” Josie backed out of Susan’s living room to the backyard carrying cookies and iced tea. “This is ridiculous. No photo or love potion is going to make these two fall in love.”
“I’m not giving up,” Susan insisted.
“Susan, you need to let them be,” Josie said.
Patty plucked two glasses of iced tea, took a swig of hers and handed one to Susan.
“You may want them to be together but what if they don’t want to be together?” Josie asked.
“They’ve only known each other for two weeks. They just need to be alone together more and—”
“Ay you can’t talk nothing to her when she gets an idea in her head,” Patty muttered.
“But Susan, think about what I just said,” Josie insisted. “The more you meddle, the more they’ll stay apart.”
Susan nearly broke the glass when she slammed it on the table. “I do not meddle!”
“Ohh, you hit a sensitive spot.” Patty shrugged when Susan sliced a glare in her direction.
“I just don’t—I don’t want Isa to grow old alone. It’s been four years since she divorced Carlos. Four years and no man.”
“Maybe she’s lesbian.”
“Patty,” Josie admonished.
“Well you never know. Look at Juanito!”
“My girls are almost thirty,” Susan continued, ignoring the lesbian remark. “I want them to be married before it’s too late. Why is that so terrible of me to want that for them?”
“Too late for what, Susan?” Josie asked gently.
“I just don’t want them to be alone forever. And I love Andrew like a grandson but I want more.”
“Well, it’s not like the soccer season is over,” Josie reasoned, peering over the cookie plate in search of the perfect one. “Don’t they have till November? Maybe Alex and Isa need the time.”
In Between Men Page 11