by Mei Silk
“I see. That’s a good reason.” Mateo nodded. “Actually, I’m too tired to cook. I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we order something for pick up? I have a feeling that you’ll have a nice view of the fireworks from your balcony.”
“You’re right,” Sara agreed. She could indeed see the greens of the park from second floor, and she hadn’t really been planning to go to the park anyway.
* * *
“I wish I had a view like that in my house!” Mateo exclaimed as they got to the balcony outside the bedroom. It wasn’t completely dark yet. One could see the city in dusk, including the bright lights of the commercial streets and the green lawns of the residential areas. They’d picked up the food and some beer and returned to her house.
“Yes. You can see pretty much the entire Monterey Park from here,” Sara said as she set up the folding table. “It makes me unproductive, though. Sometimes when I’m out here to read, I find myself just staring at the view instead.”
“That’s called meditating, and it’s good for you,” Mateo said as he sat down in the antique bamboo loveseat. “I wouldn’t mind doing it at all. Oh, this is comfortable.”
“It’s from my dad’s house,” Sara said, putting up the paper plates and all. “When I was a child, I used to take my afternoon nap in it.”
“It’s great for your balcony,” Mateo said, shifting to feel the chair, then looked at Sara. “Aren’t you going to sit?”
Sara hesitated. She had a folding chair in the closet that she had been planning on bringing out. After all, that bamboo chair was a loveseat. But then, she didn’t want to look like a prude and she definitely didn’t want to be rude. There was plenty of room for the two of them to settle in without brushing against each other. So, she sat down gingerly on the other end of the chair, praying that Mateo wouldn’t hear the pounding of her heart.
* * *
The moment Sara sat down next to him, Mateo felt an urge to put his arm around her. She had a lovely fragrance about her, more intoxicating than the Champaca in the air. He closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. Whatever it was, it made him think of things that he shouldn’t be thinking, at least not at the moment.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
He regained his senses when he heard Sara’s question.
“Uh, yeah,” Mateo’s eyes popped open, “I’m just trying to meditate before I eat. You know, it’s supposed to be good for you.”
“Okay, go ahead and meditate.” Sara smiled. “But if you keep meditating, I’m afraid the dumplings will be gone before you know how they taste.”
“Are they that good?” Mateo said, giving up the smell of her and taking up the chopsticks.
“Uh-huh, try it for yourself.” Sara nodded and waited for his reaction as he picked up a dumpling and took a bite.
“Mmm!” Mateo nodded as he chewed. “Tasty and juicy. Two thumbs up!”
Sara smiled as she lifted her glass of beer. “And they’re even better with the beer.”
Halfway into their dinner, a distant bang followed by a series of glittering comets in the sky signaled the commencement of the fireworks ceremony at Barnes Park. Almost at the same time, fireworks from different areas competed, and lit up the sky with transient glories, accompanied by whistles and crackles. The sky was soon full of golden rains, silver tails, and diamond diadems. And the night was transformed into a brilliant garden with fire flowers.
“Stunning!” Mateo said.
“A garden of fire flowers,” Sara said.
“Fire flowers! My mom told me that’s the Chinese term for fireworks. It’s much more descriptive,” Mateo said, his gaze still directed at the sky. “That one looks like a peony to me, or a dahlia, and this is definitely a chrysanthemum.”
With one brilliant display after another, soon they forgot eating and just stared at the sky instead.
* * *
“That’s it,” Sara murmured when they had waited for a good half minute and nothing new came up to the sky.
“It was great.”
“It was fantastic.” Sara’s voice was dreamy, and Mateo glanced over at her. She was still staring at the sky above the park. “I think that’s the best thing the Ancient Chinese ever invented.”
“I agree,” Mateo said, “even though it was invented to expel evil spirits.”
“I wish they would make it an hour instead of thirty minutes.”
“I know,” Sara murmured.
“You want to finish the dumplings?”
“No, you go ahead.”
There was something in Sara’s voice that Mateo couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just feeling sentimental. You know, the sky was so glorious just a moment ago. And now there’s not a single trace of that sizzling life. Fire flowers bloom so fiercely and die so quickly.”
Mateo finished the remaining beer in his bottle. “That is the way life is. Nothing lasts. All we can do is enjoy every moment we can, and try not to think about the future too much.”
“You’re right. That’s the best way to live. But it’s easier said than done. It’s human nature to want to hold on to things and to feel sad at the end of something. I guess that’s why Buddhists try not to get attached to anything. If you don’t develop feelings for something, then you don’t get hurt when you lose it. Better, if you don’t have anything, you don’t get hurt at all because you don’t lose anything.”
Mateo became thoughtful at Sara’s words. “Are you into Buddhist thinking? I find it hard to accept. I think to avoid pain by not facing the challenge is a coward’s way to live. I won’t give up watching the fireworks because it ends quickly. I won’t give up the will to live because I will die one day. I won’t give up the chance to love even if I’ll get hurt.”
* * *
Mateo’s voice was soft and sincere, and Sara listened attentively, melting little by little until she heard the word “love.” Could she trust another man after her disastrous marriage? She felt the warmth of Mateo’s body, and she became aware of their closeness. Somewhere in the middle of the show, in order to see better, she had forgotten herself and scooted to Mateo’s side of the chair, leaning on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to squeeze you,” she said and shifted her position.
But Mateo put his arm around her and pulled her to him. Panic rolled through her as she stared at him, and he bent down and covered her lips with his. For a while, Sara kept her eyes wide open. Sparks illuminated the night sky. Were these fireworks from a different park, from the neighborhood, or from some unknown origin? Her eyes fluttered closed as she melted into the kiss. Wherever they were from, she thought, they couldn’t possibly compete with the fireworks within her. She could see her nervous system firing up. It was sizzling so fiercely in her that she had to press her body tightly against his so she wouldn’t explode. It was crackling so loudly that she had to cry along with them to express her joy. And it was simply wonderful, so wonderful that she clutched the source of the fire tightly, afraid that it would soon vanish without a trace like all fireworks did. But thank goodness it went on and on, lighting one heart-shaped spark after another. And most incredibly, the heart shapes had the touch of velvet, and the taste of honey. Sara melted little by little, and was thinking how much better it would be if they moved into the bedroom, when a loud blast followed by a whistle cracked right next to them.
They started and separated from each other, and saw the firework shooting up right above them, ending with a thick cloud of smoke. The smell of gunpowder choked them.
“I can’t believe this!” Mateo mumbled as he stood up and looked down from the balcony.
Sara went to her study and peered out into the community’s common area. To her horror, she saw a man in a baseball cap walking towards the gate. Although she couldn’t see his face clearly, she had a feeling that it was the same man that Mateo had spoken to earlier. Her hands went cold and her heart thrummed, but only for a moment, then she relaxed. It could
n’t be Bill. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a baseball cap. He hated athletes because he had never been good with sports in school, and the athletes always bullied him. Sara had had sympathy for him on that matter, until he became unreasonably jealous when he found out she had athletic students. She’d been helping them in her office one day, when Bill had dashed into her office and made sarcastic comments on the students’ lack of ability to understand math. He’d made her students very uncomfortable, so much so that she had to cut the tutoring session short and apologize profusely to her students so they wouldn’t file a complaint against Bill.
The sound of children’s laughter pulled her out of her thoughts, and she saw that a group of children were playing with fireworks in the path separating the units.
She let out a breath of air. She was just being silly and paranoid.
“What’s wrong?” Mateo asked as he grabbed her hands when she made her way back out onto the balcony. “You’re pale. Should I go speak to the kids?”
“No, no. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
She started to clear the table, and Mateo jumped in and helped. When they were done cleaning up, she walked Mateo to the gate.
“Thanks for all your help, Mateo,” she said before he got into his car.
“You’re welcome, and thank you. It was a lovely evening. The dumplings were good, and the fireworks were unforgettable.” His voice suddenly went husky at the end, and there was tenderness in his eyes.
Sara looked down, feeling her cheeks flush. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Chapter 8
Sara decided to change her swimming schedule after the Fourth of July weekend. Instead of going at noon when Mateo was lifeguarding, she now went in the evenings. She still saw him during the swimming lessons, but she successfully avoided talking to him. She could feel Mateo’s eyes looking her way whenever she was in the pool, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything—swimming or teaching. She felt like a sixteen-year-old who had a major crush on the hottest guy in school. She thought about him whenever she was awake. When she watered the yard, she saw him planting her garden. When she smelled the fragrance of her Champaca tree, she remembered how he had praised the flowers. When she ordered food at a Chinese restaurant, she imagined eating with him. She even started to like eggrolls, which she had never cared for. She tried her best to pick interesting problems and examples in preparing her lectures, because he had told her that the stats class at UCLA had been extremely boring and that he never liked stats because of that. And then, on Wednesday during her class, she called a student by the wrong name: she’d called Mario Mateo—twice! Her students had overlooked the mistake, of course, as it wasn’t at all uncommon for professors to do that. But Sara thought it was ridiculous and unforgivable. Her conclusion was that she merely had a schoolgirl crush, and to prevent herself from sinking further into a fantasy of starting another unsubstantial relationship, she decided to keep a distance between herself and Mateo. Mateo was too good to be true and too gorgeous to be reliable. She couldn’t afford to have another risky relationship. She was still trying to heal from her marriage.
It was the third week into the summer quarter, and Sara had a busy day. Over the weekend, she had assigned quite a lot of homework for her students to prepare for their first midterm. And she had spent a whole day grading them. Despite kind advice from her colleagues, Sara checked every single problem on students’ assignments. She simply wanted to know how well they were comprehending the things being taught. When she finished grading, it was eight in the evening. Darn. She should have taken a break at six to swim, but she wasn’t able to stop herself. Now, she would have to forget about swimming. The Y closed at nine. By the time she got there, it would be eight-thirty, she thought gloomily. On the other hand, thirty minutes was better than nothing.
She made it to the Y by eight-twenty. Quickly slipping into her swimsuit, she went to the pool. Pedro, an eighteen-year-old boy, was life-guarding. Before she got into the water, she saw someone waving at her from the pool. It was Mateo, holding a baby in water, next to a woman who was probably the mother of the baby. Why was he here at this time? Sara was both nervous and happy to see that handsome face grinning at her.
“You came just in time!” he shouted at her. “Help me out here, please? They need me in the office. It won’t take more than ten minutes.”
“I came to swim, for god’s sake. I only have thirty minutes.”
“Oh come on, look how excited he is!”
The baby was splashing the water with his short arms and shouting joyously. The mother of the baby also looked at her pleadingly.
Sara’s heart softened. She jumped in and grabbed hold of the boy.
“I owe you another one,” Mateo whispered in her ear before getting out of the pool.
Sara blushed. His voice always managed to pluck a string within her.
Holding the baby made Sara forget why she had come to the Y. He had the cutest smile, and his little body quaked with excitement. He would cling to Sara one minute as if he was afraid, and then the next minute he would be trying to break free from her protection, ready to test the water.
“Brave baby!” Sara said to his mom, an Asian woman a bit older than herself. “It’s not his first time, is it?”
“It is. But he’s not afraid of water. He loves water and he’s happiest when he’s in the bathtub.”
“How old is he?”
“Fourteen months.”
“Really? And already swimming. He’ll be a champion one day. What’s his name?”
“Yong.”
“Yong. No wonder he’s so brave! Hi, Yong!”
Sara enjoyed helping Yong so much, she lost track of time. When Mateo came back, he apologized, “I’m sorry, Sara, it took me longer than I had expected.”
Sara looked at the clock. It was ten minutes to nine. “At least I have ten minutes,” she said, and went to the next lane.
She was on her tenth lap when she heard the lifeguard’s whistle. She stood up and was about to leave when Mateo came over to her.
“What do you want? Overtime?” she asked jokingly.
“No. I mean, yes. I want you to keep swimming, because I owe you at least twenty minutes. We’ll keep the pool open for you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I’ll tell Pedro now.”
When he went to speak to the lifeguard, Sara looked around her at the empty pool and felt blessed. The whole pool just for her! Wow. She felt like a queen.
Flooded with energy, she started competition strokes.
But soon, she discovered that she wasn’t alone in the pool at all. Mateo was swimming in the next lane, and he was racing her. He just wouldn’t leave her alone, would he? Slightly annoyed, she sped up and tried to stay ahead of him. But it wasn’t easy. She could almost feel his arm, flashing next to her. When she finished her twentieth lap, she stopped and panted. Shaking her head, she watched Mateo going for another lap with ease. She had to get back in shape. For the past ten years, she hadn’t exercised enough. She only swam about twice a year before she moved back here.
“Resting?” Mateo stopped and stood next to her. He put his muscular arm over on the lane line. Sara’s eyes traveled over it to his lightly tanned chest, heaving and shimmering with water beads. His wet hair was spiked and it gave him a boyish look. Sara’s heart pounded and she could barely resist her urge to run her hand through his wet hair.
She managed to look away from his body and shifted her gaze to his eyes. “Why are you still here? I thought the pool would be open just for me.”
“I had to take over Pedro’s vacuuming duty. In the meantime, I have nothing else to do. Unless, you would rather I vacuum now?”
“No!” Sara said quickly. “I wouldn’t want that.”
* * *
They stood in silence for a little while, both relaxing and floating in the water. Mateo glanced over at Sara, who seemed to be ready to get out of the pool.
“Would you l
ike to race?” Mateo asked before she moved away from him.
“Race? Again? Didn’t we already?”
“We did?” Mateo said with feigned surprise. He watched as her face flashed with doubt, and suppressed his laughter.
But Mateo smiled quickly, “I’m kidding. Yes, I was racing you. You’re fast, lady.”
“Thanks. But that wasn’t fast at all. It was a sea turtle’s speed . . .”
Sea turtle? The word made Mateo wonder. He remembered someone used to say that quite often.
“What do you say? Another go?” He grinned at her as she bobbed her head.
“Sure, let’s see what you’re made of.”
He loved hearing the challenge in her voice, and he stayed behind for a bit as he watched Sara start her butterfly strokes. She was so clean, so graceful. Like a real butterfly skidding across water. It made him want to stroke her wings. With a chuckle, he careened forward, his arms mimicking her stroke. She was fast, but he could catch up if he wanted to. The view from back here was just fine.
* * *
“Is it about time?” Sara asked Mateo at about nine thirty.
“You can stay as late as you want. It’s my treat,” Mateo said softly.
It was quiet outside as the last sounds of laughter and showering had died down.
Before long, Julia came in to say goodbye to Mateo, “Mateo, it’s all clear now. I’ve got to go. Good night!”
“Good night!”
Sara felt giddy as she watched Julia disappear behind the door. They were alone in the building. They could do whatever they wanted.
Mateo seemed to have heard what she was thinking, because he was getting into her lane.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Her legs felt weak, shaky.
“I want to be closer to you.” He grinned.
“Go back. There isn’t enough room.”
“Yes, there is. The maximum capacity is thirty people per lane.” He moved closer to her, his voice low and husky. It sent a shiver down her spine and heat pooled in her belly.