Havana Sunrise

by Kymberly Hunt

  “Hello, may I speak to Alma Rivera?” she asked for the twentieth time that night.

  “You have the wrong number,” a woman’s voice rang out. “I do know an Alma Rivera, though.”

  Nicole’s breath caught in her throat. “Maybe you could help me out. I don’t personally know Alma, but she came from Cuba and she has a husband named Alejandro—”

  “My brother-in-law’s name was Alejandro,” the woman interrupted. “He’s deceased, though.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Nicole’s heart hammered. “The Alma I’m looking for also had a brother named Enrique and a nephew named Julian. Enrique died years ago in Cuba.”

  “That’s her.” The woman sounded intrigued. “I’m her sister-in-law. Is there a message I can give her?”

  Could this really be true? Nicole thought. Could the elusive Alma Rivera actually be within her grasp? “Yes…yes. There is a message. My name is Nicole Evans and I’m a good friend of her nephew. He’s trying to get in contact with her.”

  “Oh my! Alma is going to be so surprised. I’ll give you her telephone number.”

  “Thank you so much,” Nicole said, and proceeded to write down the number.

  Long after the call terminated, Nicole sat there staring at the number she had written down on a yellow legal pad. It seemed to shimmer and sparkle before her. Obviously some higher force had had a hand in this, because there was no such number listed in the book.

  “I’ll call tomorrow,” Nicole murmured aloud. She didn’t want to push her good fortune any more than necessary.

  She didn’t tell Julian anything about the discovery, but she made the call in the morning as she prepared to leave for the airport. Alma did not answer the phone, but a man’s voice on the answering machine confirmed that it was the correct number. Nicole left a message, along with her phone number.

  * * *

  Julian wished he were well enough to join Nicole and Trey in Chicago because he wanted to get closer to her family, so that they could become his as well. It would somehow make his dysfunctional one seem less significant.

  He felt a new zest for life and gratitude to the powers above that he had survived the accident without serious injuries. The maudlin person who’d flirted with disaster and secretly courted death was now a complete stranger. And it was all because of one special woman and her little boy.

  The phone rang just as his physical therapist was leaving. Julian picked it up.

  “Hi, Julian. I just called to say I love you, miss you, and it’s snowing here in Chicago.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  “I’ve decided to come back home a little bit earlier, but Trey’s going to stay with his grandparents for a while.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Maybe you can come to New York with me next week.”

  “Julian, are you sure you’re going to be up to peforming?”

  He laughed. “I can still sing. It’ll just be a different kind of show, without a lot of theatrics. I really am doing good though. Went jogging this morning.”

  “Oh stop lying. You better not even think about jogging yet.”

  “Okay, okay, so I exaggerated a little. I actually can walk without limping.”

  “That’s great. I’m so happy to hear that.”

  “How’s Trey?”

  “Fine. My parents are spoiling him rotten. He’s been entertaining them with the new song he learned. He sleeps with that guitar, you know.”

  “I used to do that when I was a kid,” Julian said softly. “My aunt was always taking it out of the bed.”

  His aunt, Nicole thought. That was part of the reason she was anxious to get back to Miami. She wanted to know if Alma had left a message.

  * * *

  After three days in snowy Chicago, Nicole was back in Miami, where the temperature was a balmy 80 degrees. The first thing she did was run to the phone and listen to the messages. Most of them were from friends at the hospital, but suddenly there was a new voice, a lyrical, sweet, Cuban-accented one. She listened with her heart pounding. Yes, Alma wanted desperately to see Julian. As a matter of fact there were three messages from her. On the last one, she gave her Brooklyn address.

  Nicole wrote it down, stood up and paced around, excited and nervous. Julian still knew nothing about it. She was going to have to tell him and his decision would determine whether there’d be a meeting or not.

  She made a pit stop at Allyson’s salon, thinking it was about time for a new hairdo, something that would lift her spirits even higher, and something that she knew Julian would like.

  “Sis, you not only need a new do, but you need the fashion police as well,” Ally exaggerated. “Lynette, you take care of my sister. I’d do it myself, but she aint gonna give you half the trouble she’d give me.” She gestured eloquently. “When you get back home, Nic, there’s a hot little number in my closet that I want you to borrow. Make sure you put that on and then go see our prince.”

  Nicole laughed. “Well, as long as it isn’t something I’d get arrested in.”

  “Girlfriend, you need to get arrested,” Lynette said, laughing. “Come, get yourself in this chair.”

  When Lynette was through with hair and makeup, Nicole almost didn’t recognize herself. Her thick, wavy hair was now bone-straight, the color of wheat, with auburn highlights. It slid, satin-like, well below her shoulder blades. The subtle makeup accented the jade green of her eyes and gave her a haunting, exotic look. Several women clients gawked in admiration.

  Back home, Nicole tried on the dress and laughed. It was a tiny, tight, white, spaghetti-strapped number that hugged every curve on her body. She borrowed a pair of Allyson’s stiletto-heeled sandals. The total view in the full-length mirror shocked her. She was staring at the woman who’d terrified Warren, the one he wanted only for himself, that he never wanted anyone else to see. This overly sexy fraud would not threaten Julian. She decided to keep the dress on, but as she started out of the house, she chickened out a little, and covered up with a blazer.

  She arrived at his place and immediately became aware of increased security. There were other guards besides the familiar Carlos, who at first didn’t even recognize her, and when he did, couldn’t stop staring. Men, she thought, brushing back her shimmering hair as she ascended the stairs.

  On the way up, she was met by Amanda, who was bounding down the stairs two at a time. She stopped and stared at Nicole incredulously. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “You’re the bomb.”

  Nicole laughed at her expression. “The bomb? Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s good, but you don’t look like you anymore.”

  “I’m still me, Amanda, just wearing different clothes.”

  Amanda considered this for a moment. “I don’t know if Uncle J. is going to like it though. He like nurses better than models now.”

  Nicole laughed again, considering the brutal honesty of children. “Your uncle knows that I’m still a nurse. Even nurses like to dress up once in a while.”

  Julian greeted her on the deck with a kiss. He looked terrific in ivory-colored pants and a beige silk shirt, not tucked in. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him at arm’s length. He was standing perfectly straight, without crutches.

  “You look as beautiful as ever,” he said, inspecting her. “But it’s a little hot for that jacket.”

  She allowed him to slide it off, his smoldering dark eyes never leaving her. Julian gave a low whistle. Her disarming beauty did not surprise him, because he’d known she’d possessed it from the first day he’d seen her. He was surprised by the fact that she’d decided to display it uninhibited now. He drank in the visual image of her smooth, caramel skin, the gentle slope of her bare shoulders, and the firm, tightness of her ever-so- slightly revealed breasts. He wanted to slide the fragile looking strap of the dress down. His eyes flickered back to her beautiful face and shimmering hair.

  “Your niece said I was the bomb,” she murmured, slightly self-conscious by his attention. “
Does that mean I’m supposed to explode at any second?”

  “Just wait for me to detonate you, baby, and we’ll both explode simultaneously.”

  “So…” She took his hand, trying to divert attention from herself. “You really are doing well.”

  “Not good enough for Princess Amanda, I’m afraid. She’s bragging about how she can outrun me now.”

  They sat down at one of the deck tables, and were served lunch by the household staff. Julian didn’t eat very much and that disturbed her. He looked good, considering what he’d been through, but he had lost weight. She sampled more of the fresh sliced fruit than she normally would have, just to keep it from going to waste. It was something she’d get after him about later.

  “So how were your parents?” he asked.

  “They’re doing really well. I had a great three days back home.”

  “What have you told them about us at this point?”

  “Everything.”

  “Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “And your father hasn’t put out a contract on me yet?”

  She smiled. “Bigotry in any form doesn’t exactly amuse him. He was remarkably understanding.” She glanced up at the puffy white clouds and noticed a pelican soaring overhead, looking like something prehistoric “Anyway it doesn’t matter. I’m the one who chooses who I want to be with.” She glanced reflectively at the sky again. “It felt really strange,” she mused. “When we were driving from the airport, I asked my father to go past the street where Warren and I used to live.”

  Julian listened silently, intently, as she continued. “We drove past the house and I looked at it and it looked pretty much the same, but I didn’t feel anything. It was as if I had never lived there. Trey didn’t have any reaction either. Isn’t that odd?”

  “Maybe it’s good,” Julian said.

  A long silence followed and she found herself focusing on the uncovered scar above his left eyebrow. Oddly enough, it enhanced his sensuality, giving him a slightly dangerous appearance. She had the brief illusion of him starring in some vintage swashbuckling movie.

  “Will you come with me to New York for the show next week?” he asked.

  “I’d love to,” Nicole said. “There’s just one thing.”

  “Uh oh. What is that?”

  “Would you mind very much if Allyson comes along? She has a friend living there.”

  Julian groaned. “You want a chaperone. You still don’t trust me.”

  “Allyson? A chaperone? It’s not that. It’s not that at all. I do trust you,” she hesitated. “Maybe I’m the one I don’t trust.”

  “She can come,” he said with a laugh. “But please, not the dog. Is there anything else? You look a little nervous.”

  “Shane’s checking into a kennel.” She looked down at her hands. “Yes, there is something else, a very big something else. Julian, I found your aunt.”

  She explained the details while he stared at her in shock. “She sounded really nice on the phone. While you’re in New York, perhaps we can go…”

  Julian shook his head. “I don’t know.” He stood up abruptly, flinching because sudden movements still caused pain. “ I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “You have to start somewhere. Can’t you at least just give her a chance?”

  “I…well, we’ll see.”

  That was all she could get out of him. After all those years and intense childhood memories, discovering a fraud would be pretty devastating, but not knowing at all was equally devastating.

  * * *

  On New Year’s Eve, the day before the concert, they flew to New York on the private jet, along with some members of Julian’s entourage. It was snowing as the plane touched down on the tarmac. Nicole had a slight headache from listening to Allyson, who had been gabbing during the whole flight. Julian seemed amused by it. She also flirted shamelessly with his assistant/bodyguard, Alex West, who looked as if he could bench-press five hundred pounds without even breaking a sweat.

  The snow was coming down heavily as the chauffeur delivered them to their hotel suite in time for lunch. Julian ordered room service and the three of them ate together. Then he was driven off to Radio City Music Hall for a rehearsal, leaving Nicole and Allyson free to do what they wanted.

  The weather forecasters were predicting a lot of snow, so Allyson was chauffeur-driven to Long Island, early, so she could connect with some old friends for a planned New Year’s celebration.

  Nicole was grateful for the silence. As she watched the snow falling in Central Park from the hotel balcony, romantic illusions filled her head and she wished Julian were beside her to share them. He had not said anything about any special plans for the last day of the year, but it was just as well. He couldn’t afford to be partying now, and she had never been a habitual reveler anyway.

  Dusk was falling when Julian returned. He came in quietly, switched the dim light on in the living room, and sat on the couch, still wearing his long, black leather coat. He appeared to be lost in thought.

  “Hey,” Nicole whispered, coming out of her bedroom “How’d it go?”

  “It went good. Everything’s all set.”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Sure. I’m just sitting here daydreaming.” He looked at her directly. “Do you think I should see her?”

  His question caught her off guard. “What?”

  “My aunt. Do you think I should see her?”

  She sat down beside him, and silently began unbuttoning his coat. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”

  She slid the coat over his shoulders and he shrugged it off and stood up. He paced around, limping slightly. “How about going later this evening, in a couple of hours?” he asked.

  “Fine, if that’s what you want. I’ll give her a call and…”

  “No. We won’t call. We’ll just drop in.”

  “But she might be out. It is New Year’s Eve.”

  “If she’s still the same Aunt Alma I used to know, believe me, she won’t be out on this night. She was very religious. She didn’t believe in what she called pagan celebrations. If she is out partying, then it means we weren’t meant to meet.”

  “Oh, Julian! That’s not being fair. She could be out with family or something. I didn’t tell you this before, but there was a man’s voice on her answering machine. Maybe she remarried.”

  “Don’t care. That’s the way it has to be,” he said sharply, then modulated the tone of his voice. “I just want to get this over with.”

  Resolved, she sighed. “What time do you want to go?”

  “Around nine.”

  That’s kind of late, and during a snowstorm, she thought, but decided not to make any further comment.

  Her heart went out to him, because he was really stressed out over the potential meeting and was acting like a terrified little boy—like Trey. She rose from her seat, and went to him, sliding her arms around his waist while he studied the snow falling outside the window.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The building was a neat little brownstone, in a long row of similar dwellings on a one-way Brooklyn side street. All of them were illuminated with decorative holiday lights, and as the snow fell in a wind-driven, slanting motion, the whole scene suggested an urban Christmas card.

  Rick Foreman, their Minnesota-born chauffeur, got out and opened the door of the silver Range Rover for them. Nicole thanked him and stepped out, grateful for the fact that Rick was an expert driver who claimed to love driving in snow. Julian said a few words to him and then he got out slowly, studying the neighborhood.

  “Well, Aunt Alma’s not on welfare,” he said.

  Nicole smiled, squeezing his hand. “That’s a good sign.”

  They carefully ascended the snow-covered steps. Julian was relieved that there were not many, because his knee was rebelling. The hallway, with antiquated lighting, smelled pleasantly of cinnamon. They stopped in front of number four. Julian held his breath and pushed the buzzer once,
twice.

  “Who is it?” a woman’s voice said from inside.

  Julian opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat and no sound came out. He glanced anxiously at Nicole, hating himself for appearing so flawed and vulnerable in front of her. She did not look surprised, bewildered, or ashamed of him. Instead, she spoke.

  “I’m Nicole Evans from Miami. I’d like to see Alma Rivera.”

  A light came through the peephole on the door, followed by the sound of deadlock bolts turning and a chain sliding down. The door opened partially and Nicole was face-to-face with a petite, elegant looking lady with gleaming silvery hair drawn back behind her ears. Her skin was light brown and she had large, almond-shaped eyes that looked a lot younger than their years. The eyes appeared stunned as they focused on Julian.

  “I know we should have called,” Nicole said apologetically. “But Julian won’t be in New York for very long and so…”

  “Come in,” the lady said in one breath. She unbolted the chain and Nicole entered first. Julian just stood there, framed in the doorway, staring at the mother figure he remembered.

  “Julian!” she exclaimed, breaking the ice. “Dear God, is it really you?”

  “Yes,” Julian said, recovering his voice. He could not take his eyes off the almost surreal woman from his past. “You…you used to be taller,” he stammered, then laughed at himself. “I’m sorry. I’m still seeing you with the eyes of a little kid.” He smiled hesitantly.

  Nicole did not have a clue what Aunt Alma said next, because the emotional outburst that followed was in Spanish. She hugged Julian joyfully and then led him into the apartment, clinging to him as if afraid he’d disappear.

  The living room was warm and cozy, painted in earth tones, with many Aztec and African-inspired paintings on the walls. There was a shiny, wood-toned piano appropriately dominating one side of the room. It was very fitting that his aunt should be musical too, Nicole thought.

  “Sit down. Please sit down,” Aunt Alma said. “I hope you both are able to stay for a while.”