by Dela
Lucas rounded the corner into an alley, where he stopped beside a small podium and a black carpet that extended into the building. An usher with buzzed, coarse hair and a black suit welcomed Lucas by name and opened my door. He dipped his head in a courteous nod before raising his arms.
“Come, your table is ready,” he said in heavily accented English.
We followed him into a small hallway. Iron sconces appeared at even intervals on the dungeon-like walls, flickering in the darkness until we reached an elevator. An usher with slicked-back hair waited inside to direct the ancient moving box to a higher floor.
“Hola, Guillermo,” Lucas said.
The valet left us as the elevator operator smiled and slid the iron doors shut. “Hola, señor.”
We stood silently, watching the floors pass just beyond the cage. Lucas smelled like he had just taken a shower, which only made me more aware of how I must smell. Sweat and dirt and fish water, yuck! Thankfully, when the elevator stopped, the air flooded with the smell of fresh tortillas.
Beyond was a dark floor lit by neon and cheap candles on the tables. We followed Guillermo into the cantina, past customers already enjoying their dinners, through double glass-paned doors, and onto a balcony that overlooked a square courtyard. Swags of red flowers and white fairy lights dressed every inch of its ceiling and walls. Ours was the only table here.
Mariachis on the street below played trumpets and guitars, catchy tunes that floated up to us. I watched Lucas incredulously, his foreign world spinning around me, as he pulled out my chair. Again, his glance never moved from me. He watched me with something more than the possessiveness I’d felt in Tahoe. He looked at me with longing; he looked at me with caring. The sideburns he’d had this morning were gone, blended with the shadow on his dark, prickly chin. I’ve never dated anyone that looked this old. I didn’t mind at all—he was just the kind of guy I’d pictured being with ten years from now—I felt young. Celebrities do it all the time, right? And according to everyone we know, he’s only five years older than me, so yeah, it could work. I pretended to adjust my chair to let my nerves calm down.
“This is my family’s favorite place to eat when we are in town,” he said as a short waiter approached.
Lucas spoke to him in Spanish; the waiter nodded and walked to the double doors, where he delivered instructions to a pair of waiters. The two nodded and disappeared inside the restaurant while the headwaiter returned to us. He pressed his palms together, a white towel hanging over one forearm. “What would the señorita like to drink?”
“Just some water would be fine,” I said politely.
Lucas nodded to him, and then he too disappeared.
“I ordered all my favorites. I hope you don’t mind. No offense taken if you don’t like it.”
Stray voices had joined the fiesta band downstairs. They were loud and cheerful and knew every word, like a street version of karaoke.
“So, how long have you been coming to this place?” I asked, laughing at the people below.
Lucas rested his elbows on the table and pressed his fingers together. “Since it opened in the fifties.”
I looked away and pretended to be engrossed in the eclectic decorations. Large floor candelabras and the scattered fairy lights produced a romantic ambiance, and the red flowers were fresh, full of life on their vine. It was very romantic.
“Do you always sit out here?” I asked, picturing him here with other women.
Lucas leaned back and rested an ankle on his other knee. “No one sits on the balcony except me or a member of my family.”
“Ever?”
He grinned. “Ever.”
I set the glass on the table gently, feeling that immense pressure as he watched me.
“We bought this place so it could be ours indefinitely,” Lucas added, sipping his Coke.
I leaned in and whispered, “Don’t they suspect something, like your nonaging face?”
His hair fell forward as he leaned in with a dimply smile and copied my whisper. “No.”
Then he swiped his hand through his hair and laughed.
“What is so funny?” I asked.
“You are. Worried about the disclosure of my identity.”
“Well, how do you do it? How is it that these people have been working here for years and you return, looking the same?”
“For starters, it helps to have friends that you can trust. Those two waiters over there?” Lucas jutted his chin at the two men standing by the door.
I looked over my shoulder. “I see them.”
“They are new; they’ve never seen me before. The owner of this place is a good friend of the family. Whenever we have plans to come here, we call him in advance, and he arranges for waiters unfamiliar with us. But the headwaiter, he is the only one allowed on this balcony. He takes our orders and then directs the other waiters.”
“How can you be so sure to trust them?”
“Because the owner and headwaiter are Aluxes.”
I paused, confused on the timing thing.
“When it is time for them to get older,” Lucas said, casually taking another sip of his Coke, “a new Alux will take over as owner or headwaiter.”
“Seems to me these Aluxes are convenient for a lot more than your protection.”
“You could say that.”
“Must be nice. I spent two summers working at Lucky Pin, and I barely have enough to get me through one year at an Ivy League college, assuming my parents will pay for my tuition.”
Lucas folded his arms over the table and leaned in. “You’re amazing.”
“What?” I asked. I swallowed a sip of warm water. What is with the no ice?
“Why do I get the impression that you will do whatever you set your mind to do, even when the odds are against you?”
“Because it’s true. I can’t let my fear hold me back. I’ll take out loans if I have to.” I laughed, messing with the slight condensation on my glass. “Maybe my fear of regret outweighs all other fears. So there, I am afraid of something.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Finally!”
When our laughs died down, I fidgeted with my fork and thought out loud. “But seriously, someday . . .”
“Someday what?”
“I’m going to be able to do things for myself. I won’t need anyone paying my way or teaching me the way the world works. I’m going to be powerful, I just know it.”
His body was attentive, though he leaned his head on one hand as he swirled his fork through the runny sour cream on his plate.
“Did I offend you?” I asked.
“Of course not, muñeca.” He paused, put his fork down, and glanced up to me. “What else is on your someday list?”
“My someday list?”
“You know, an imaginary list of things you want to accomplish in your life.” Then his voice changed to mimic a teenage girl. “Someday I’m going to have a house on the beach with two horses, and a boat, and four kids, and a fat dog named Pepe . . .” He chuckled and straightened up. “Come on, Zara,” he said, his raspy voice deeper again. “What’s on your someday list? Are money and power the only things on your list? Because if they are, you’re very well off: you will accomplish both. And without my help, I can assure you. But there must be other things that you want out of life.”
I pondered a moment, watching him closely for the slightest flinch. This had to be tough for him, to hear of all the things he would never have. But he didn’t move at all as he watched me intently. “Someday,” I began slowly, careful not to overdo it, “I’m going to be married. And someday we’ll have children, though I have no idea how many. I guess I’ll just have to see how well the first one goes.”
Lucas laughed.
“And someday,” I continued, “we’ll travel to Scotland, or France, I don’t know, somewhere in Europ
e. And someday, I’ll take my kids to the lake and teach them how to swim, and someday . . . I’ll ride an elephant. There, how’s that list? Is it any good?”
He picked up his water glass, set his lips gently against the rim, and took a sip. He grinned as he set it down, looking pleased. “It’s very good.”
I threw a chip in my mouth. “What about you, what’s your someday?” I mumbled around it.
His smile broadened as if he was going to laugh, but he didn’t, and then he leaned in and took a deep breath. “This is my someday.”
My heart spun fast. “Oh . . . as in dinner . . . or finishing the sacrifices . . . or . . . or me . . .?”
He answered with a wide grin. As I opened my mouth to speak, though, the Alux headwaiter brought in platters full of food. Lucas took another drink, keeping his lips from lifting any higher than they already were. There was rice and beans; a mouthwatering tray of fresh fruit; tacos; a soup with thin, short noodles; and something involving seafood.
“What is that?” I asked, glancing at the red glass full of shrimp in sauce. I tried not to make a face, but I feared I didn’t fool Lucas when he chuckled softly.
“A seafood cocktail called ceviche. It’s very popular here in the south.” Lucas pointed to a darker, red meat. “And those are tacos al pastor, my favorite.”
He picked up a tiny corn tortilla and piled it with cheese, cilantro, and lime. I mimicked him. The savory meat mixed with the citrus and fresh herb was just the right thing to satisfy my stomach’s complaints.
“This is the best taco I’ve ever tasted,” I said, breathing through my nostrils with my mouth full of food.
He chuckled, unsurprised. “I knew you’d like it.” I felt his eyes on me as I helped myself to probably too much food for a girl my size. “Zara?”
“Yeah?”
“I can pay for your college.”
Before I choked, I quickly finished chewing and swallowed my food with a big gulp of water. “What?”
“Let me do it. I want to, and I have plenty of money. Don’t let your parents carry that burden.”
“Lucas, I can’t, that’s like asking you to buy me a house.”
“Well . . . maybe that too, someday . . . but for now, let’s figure out your schooling. I think education is very important, and I find it extremely attractive that you are so eager to go.”
“Lucas, I . . .” I leaned over the table, our faces a foot away from each other. “We don’t even know if I’ll still be alive.”
He didn’t respond, though his lips pinched, and his eyes glazed over without even a single blink. “Very well, I won’t bring this back up.”
Sometime between eating the rice and the soup, the mariachis stopped and the balcony became peaceful. Even though I felt Lucas observing me, thinking about what I’d said, I ate until my stomach felt like it was going to pop the button on my shorts. When I finished, I fell back in the chair, rubbing my stomach.
“I can’t eat any more, I’m stuffed,” I said.
“Would you like dessert?”
“I’m afraid I’ll explode if I try to eat one more thing.”
Lucas called in the headwaiter, who asked him something softly in Spanish. Lucas shook his head, and the Alux bowed and left, the other two waiters trailing behind him.
“How many Aluxes are there?” I asked.
“We have twenty; eight of them live here in Merida or with us in Progresso, and the rest are spread throughout the world.”
“What do they do for work? Don’t they have to move around to go unnoticed?”
“The world is too big and too arrogant to notice us under their noses. Our Aluxes move around, yes, but they keep their professions, which range from school professors to zoologists to heart surgeons.”
“That’s crazy.”
Lucas snickered. “It’s normal for me.”
I leaned back and stretched. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until the food settled in.
“There’s one more thing to do before the day is over, but only if you’re up for it,” Lucas said, noticing my yawn.
“You’re going to have to take me home at some point, before my dad comes looking for you,” I said.
“Well then, it’s just my luck.”
“Why?”
“Because we have to go home first to change.”
It only took ten minutes to get back to the beach palace. When we walked in from the garage, there wasn’t a person in sight. Lucas offered to accompany me to my room, and we hiked the three flights of stairs side by side.
“I guess you don’t need to worry about your dad. He must be out with Andrés and Valentina still,” Lucas said.
As we reached my bedroom door, a daze of complete exhaustion descended on me.
Lucas briefly glanced at his watch. “Would you rather stay home?”
“No, I’m okay. Really.”
“How much time do you need to get ready?”
I reached for the sand-infested, salt-infused strands I used to call hair. “Thirty minutes. Is that okay?”
“Sure. See you in thirty. And wear something nice.”
“Nice?”
“Beach nice,” he clarified, kissing my cheek and leaving for his room.
I turned the shower on first, letting the water heat up while I picked out my outfit. I chose a black blouse with a white blazer and a gray, high-waisted, ruffled skirt. I didn’t realize how cold I had gotten until the hot water hit between my shoulder blades, and I allowed myself one more minute under the scalding water. Then a quick towel dry, a few dabs of product to subdue my wavy hair, and some makeup basics. Before I left, I slipped on Gabriella’s jade bracelet, which went nicely with the gray, and layered it with a couple of other bracelets I’d brought from home.
The hall was empty when I swung the door open. The windows and doors were open, letting in the calming crash of the waves as I made my way to Lucas’s room. I knocked.
“Lucas?” I called when he didn’t answer.
I headed downstairs, rubbing my arms against the ghostly chill.
I entered the kitchen and saw Lucas on the patio outside. The glow from inside lit one side of his face, showing his lips moving as he spoke to someone hidden by the curtain panels. As I stepped closer, he did a double take and ran inside to meet me.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, resting a hand on my waist as he gave me the customary cheek kiss. “Are you ready to go? Your brothers, Dylan, and Gabriella are all waiting for us.”
“Yes.” He looked as delicious as he smelled. I never knew that a cardigan could look so good on a man over shorts and a T-shirt.
“Hola, Zara.”
I peeked past Lucas’s shoulders to see Tita entering the house with Niya and Malik. She gave me a small hug.
“How are you?” I asked into her shoulder. “When did you arrive?” I petted the mellow jaguars’ heads as if it came naturally.
“Just now. How do you like Mexico?” she asked.
“It’s good. Lucas said we had some time before, you know, so he took me out. Showed me Tulum and the restaurant in Merida.”
“So how are you feeling? Lucas told me about your dream.”
I threw a condemning glance at Lucas. “Did he tell you what Xavier’s mom asked of me?”
“He did.”
“And?”
“We were just discussing that, but since you two are going out, we’ll reconvene later tonight.”
Lucas added, “When you are asleep.”
“We’ll see,” I replied.
Ten minutes later, just off the deserted main drag, Lucas pulled into a small parking lot covered with more sand. Dusk was a rainbow of colors, the queen palms rising as black figures against its rosiness. The sign over the building, which looked like a miniature Colosseum, said Luz.
“Luz?�
� I asked as the music raging inside vibrated the ground beneath me.
We bypassed the long line behind red swags of rope and went straight to the fat bouncer, who noticed Lucas, jerked his chin up, and moved the plush barrier for us to pass.
“Lucas, I’m not twenty-one,” I said anxiously. As Lucas opened the door, the musky bar air brushed my skin.
He squeezed my hesitant hand harder and pulled me through the short hallway. Once the room had opened into a large domed space, he tilted his head toward me.
“You only have to be eighteen to come here,” he announced over the music.
Behind the bar was a huge tank full of bright tropical fish. The dance floor in the center of the room was packed with sweaty people. The ground underneath their feet lit up with changing colors. A face I’d seen on magazine covers was on the stage across the room, performing a song I’d heard in English.
Lucas gave a subtle wave to the performer, then pointed up and to the right. “There’s Dylan.”
My body tensed, and I started to think that entering the mass of people wasn’t a good idea. His thumb instantly circled the back of my hand, gripping it even harder as he did, and we headed into the crowd.
The club was laid out on different levels. To get to Dylan, we had to step down onto a lower level, cut a path that curved to the right around the dance floor, then ascend a few steps. A black rope at the top blocked off a private area, and Lucas unhooked it without pausing. The space up here was large and nearly vacant. Max and Casey sat on one of the twenty boxy lounge chairs talking to Dylan, who made swooshing motions with his hands. Gabriella sat on a low, modern-style table, and the leg that she had crossed over the other bounced out of boredom.
“Hola, Zara.” She smiled, looking relieved, as she rose to kiss my cheek. She looked stunning in a short yellow dress and pink lipstick. A bracelet matching mine dangled with others along her arm.
She smiled approvingly as Lucas fastened his arm around my side. The boys looked up from Dylan and toward us with contagious laughs.
“Zara, you should have seen Dylan, he was sick!” Max cackled, grabbing his stomach from laughing too hard.
Dylan’s face went devout behind his glass. Great, Max and Casey have met their long-lost triplet, and Dylan has gained lost brothers. It was a perfect reunion, though it made me feel guilty about Xavier.