Sombra

by Leslie McAdam

  “They’re just about ready,” says Guillermo.

  “Bien.” Her eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. “Why aren’t you in school?”

  “Uh. Um,” he stammers.

  “Go to class.” He races away to grab his backpack.

  She puts her key in her car and unlocks the door. “At least that distraction is leaving soon.”

  I don’t like the way she said that, and I have no idea what she’s talking about. Why is Kim leaving? “What do you mean?”

  “You let that girl go with her novio.”

  “I did nothing of the sort. And he’s not her novio. He’s an amigo. Or not even that.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. He said amigo, but I think he means novio. They’ve been talking in her room.”

  That sojourn to the orchard did nothing, because the red rage immediately returns, its flames burning in my veins. I’m getting ready to sprint for the house, when my mother reaches out the car door and puts her hand on my arm. “Gustavo. As I’ve said, she cannot be good for you. She’s a dalliance, perhaps, while she’s here. Let her go back to the United States.”

  I hear the scuffling of feet, and Kim walks out of the house with a empty clothes basket to go to the laundry house.

  My hands clench and release and my tone is sharp. “Yes, yes, Madre. I know you think that.”

  Kim stares at me and enters the laundry room.

  I continue. “But you’re wrong.” Might as well tell her. “I’m in love with her.”

  My mother’s jaw drops down. “In love with her? With la guiri? Don’t be ridiculous.” She waves dismissively.

  Stepping closer to my mother, my voice gets low. “I’m as serious as a bureaucrat.”

  She raises her voice. “You’re not in love, this is lust. You’re letting your pants take over your brain.”

  I grip my wrists behind my back, restraining myself. “No, Madre, I am not—”

  “Here is the thing about passion,” she says coldly. “It fizzles out. And then you’re left with the cold ashes of a fire long gone.”

  She’s wrong, she must be wrong. She has to be wrong. I look her directly in the eye. “Not if you figure out a way to keep igniting it.”

  Her nostrils flare. “Then you get burned, Tavo. Then you get burned.”

  She puts the key in the ignition and turns the car on, driving away into town. I watch her leave and start to head to the house, but I see Kim out of the corner of my eye leaving the laundry room with a full basket of clean laundry. Raising my hand, I wave at her, but she frowns and keeps going toward the house.

  I stand for a moment watching her, then sprint after her calling, “Kim! Wait!”

  Kim’s dumped her laundry on her bed and is stooped over to fold it, while Shane sits at her desk. My old desk.

  I hate him.

  When I walk in, she swallows hard and grimaces. What happened?

  Giving her head a tiny shake, she pulls up her shoulders and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Tavo, we were thinking of going into Granada so Shane could see the sights. Do you want to come?”

  Do I want to come with my girlfriend who is carrying my baby to show her ex-boyfriend around my town? To show him the places I showed her. All the nooks we’ve kissed in. All the places we’ve held hands.

  After she’s spent a week practically comatose and hurt? And while she’s being distant now?

  No, I don’t want to come with them. I want to put him on a trebuchet and sling him back to the Madrid airport so I have her all to myself.

  But my mouth says, “Sure,” because I’ll do anything for her.

  We drive in my car to Granada. We tour the Cathedral, with Kim pointing out where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella are buried. We walk through the Alcazar, skipping by the shop with scarves—I still need to put ours to good use. We venture up to the Alhambra on the hill and meander up the Generalife gardens.

  And the entire time, I’m going berserk.

  What is he doing here? Why hasn’t she kicked him out? Does she want to get back together with him? How is her pregnancy today?

  Does she love me back? She does, right?

  For the rest of the day, I cannot talk to Kim without Shane. My mother even brought extra blankets and a pillow into Kim’s room for him to sleep there. I may string up mi madre and Shane on the rack before I allow him to sleep in the same room with Kim. She’s staying with me.

  Once I get rid of the fucking cockblocker long enough to talk to her.

  But the Universe conspires against me. Everyone is at dinner, even Sonia and her father.

  Because life is not fair and I can’t get what I want, the only place for me to sit is by Sonia.

  At first she doesn’t say anything, but then she starts asking questions. “Who is this American?”

  I hope she’s interested in him, not me. “He’s a friend of Kim’s.”

  She gets a shrewd expression on her face. “He’s got a nice body. Is he her novio?”

  “No. He was.”

  “Was? Is he here for—”

  “I don’t know why he’s here,” I hiss.

  Sonia’s eyebrows go up, and she scoots closer to me. Her talon draws along my arm, and she whispers in my ear. “Do you need someone to talk to?”

  “No,” I whisper back in hers.

  “I’m available if you need me, Tavo. Any way you like.”

  “I don’t,” I say in an undertone, and look over at Kim, who has a strange look in her eye. I plead with her silently. The last thing I want is for her to get jealous of Sonia sitting next to me. Just because Sonia attaches herself to me like a leech doesn’t mean I want her there. I don’t know how many times I have to send her away.

  Since Shane is here, we linger extra-long with even more courses than usual. Mari Carmen and Tía Valeria must have cooked for hours. I’m beginning to think that Kim’s previous hasty eating makes more sense than our meals that take millenia.

  Finally, we finish, and I corner her, asking her to come talk with me. She walks with me to my casita in silence.

  All day, her mood’s been lighter than she’s been since she found out she’s pregnant, while I’ve been dour. Stewing.

  I barely wait until the door is closed before I grit out, “Why is he here?”

  My bitter tone of voice makes her come closer and hug me, but I take a half-step away from her. Her face drops, and she looks sincere. “He just needed to talk with me.”

  This. This, I don’t get. “Talk with you about something that he couldn’t just call you?”

  “No, he couldn’t. But it’s all set, now.”

  “It’s all set now,” I repeat in a monotone. “Can you tell me what’s set now?”

  Kim shakes her head, and for the first time she looks sad. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t.” She lets out a breath and her expression softens. “His reason for coming here is not mine to tell.”

  I take a deep breath. “Thank you, but you have to understand how this seems. Your fiancé shows up and—”

  “Ex-fiancé—”

  “The one who gave you a ring. And you can’t tell me why, but you’re happier now.”

  She presses her hand to my chest and looks up, those lush lips saying the right words. “Tavo, you need to understand. Him coming here, had nothing to do with me. It’s all to do with him.” She pauses. “While I was here, I figured out some things for myself. And he figured out some things for himself. He wanted to tell me in person because it’s a big deal to him. But in a lot of ways, it doesn’t affect me at all. I broke up with him. He knows. I gave him back the ring.”

  I pause for a moment. “Okay. That’s good, I think.” Right?

  Smiling, she says, “Yeah. It is. He had to deal with some things, and it’s much better now. It’s all good.”

  My breath blows up the hair on my forehead. “Okay. But Kim, we haven’t talked about the baby. Do you … are you going to keep it?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry I made you think
otherwise. It freaked me out completely.”

  “It freaked me out, too. It still does.”

  “Yeah. Yes, we’re keeping it. I mean, that’s what you want, too, right?” Her sweet face lifts to mine like she’s hanging on my next words.

  “Yes. More than anything.”

  She smiles with my assurance. “It feels right to me, too.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “We need to talk, though. Make arrangements for where you live after this semester. I’m open to suggestions.”

  “I’m not sure your mother thinks you’re open.”

  “Let me deal with her. Come stay with me tonight. Leave Shane.”

  She leans in closer and puts her hand flat on my chest, peering up at me. “Yes, of course. Let me go get my things in the house, and I’ll come back.”

  “Okay.” I want to follow her, but I need to trust her. Whatever is going on with her and her ex-boyfriend, while I don’t like it, I believe her.

  Before she goes, she asks, “What was Sonia saying to you at dinner.”

  I can’t help but let out an exasperated snort. “Kim, dios mio, the usual. How she’s available to me. How she wants me. I cannot get rid of her. I’m so sorry, I was telling her I didn’t want her.”

  “I figured she was saying something like that. But is she still aiming to marry you?”

  “I haven’t given her any impression that I would. I’ve told her no every time she brought it up.”

  “But what does your mother say.”

  “My mother still wants me to be with her,” I admit.

  A cloud passes through Kim’s eyes. “So you are still under financial pressure.”

  I nod. “Unfortunately. But maybe this harvest—this cosecha—will be profitable and we can pay Señor Molinero off.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe.” But she looks worried as she heads toward the main house to get her things.

  While I wait for her, I step outside. As always, my feet point me toward the huerta, which is as much of a beauty as it is a jail. Tonight, while clouds overhead obscure the stars, a cold wind whistles that makes me think it will be clear later.

  Standing outside in the dark just for a few minutes makes me feel better. While not entirely at peace, I’m getting there. My problems seem insignificant when I look up at the sky. Maybe the finances will figure themselves out. Or if we lose this place, maybe that will be a freedom, too. Like when people have a house burned down, while it’s a tragedy, they rebuild. We can rebuild, too.

  With a lighter heart I return to my casita. Maybe I’ll play some music while I wait for Kim to come.

  I open my door.

  And hear “There you are,” in Spanish.

  A hand masturbates between two long, bare, spread legs. The other arm is stretched behind her, handcuffed to the iron headboard.

  Sonia lies naked in my bed, smiling lasciviously. Then she drops her head back and opens her mouth.

  It takes me a second to process.

  Why? What? No!

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I roar, manic desperation in my voice.

  Sonia keeps her fingers on her crotch, and I avert my eyes. I’m in fight-or-flight mode, but I also don’t know what to do. I don’t want to touch her. I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t even want to look at her. But I want her gone.

  Now. Yesterday. Forever.

  Her wannabe sultry voice is an assault on my nerves. “You know you like what you see, Tavo. You know you’re frustrated. You know you need me. My pussy’s so wet for you. Only you. Come fuck me. Do what you did before.”

  I turn my back to her and yell, “No!” to the floor.

  Her feline purr makes my hair stand on end—the bad way. “You know it’s been too long. I’m waiting here for you. Open. Ready. Wet.”

  “Jamás. Never again—”

  “I saw you leave to go in the huerta alone. I saw your American go to her room with her American boyfriend. She’ll be going back to America. You’ll be lonely when she’s gone, and you’ll want me soon enough. So why not now?”

  “Get out of here!” No way am I looking at her. No way am I getting near her. Just leave. Please.

  “I can’t.” I hear the sickening sneer in her voice. “Only you have the key, Tavo. Just like you have the key to my heart.”

  That’s it.

  Like the coin dropping in the jukebox in the movies, her voice engages me into action, and I’m frantic, scrambling, rifling through drawers for the handcuff key. I’m so livid I’m shaking, trying to keep my temper under control. While I can have a fiery temper, it’s normally under wraps. Right now though, I want to rip her arm off and throw her away.

  Those toys are not for her. This is not a fantasy I have with her. Those are Kim’s, and Sonia’s violated my precious, sexy memory.

  My room needs an exorcism now.

  I find the key and head toward her, still keeping my eyes off of her.

  As I lean over her, my hands fumbling to unlock the handcuffs, I mutter with as much contempt as I can, “You’re insane. You are absolutely crazy. You know I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  And I stop for a second. She looks up at me with those red-brown eyes, the black in them now spikes. Then they become subdued, and she bites her lip.

  Tears form in her eyes.

  Manipulative crocodile tears.

  I’m not falling for them. I never want to hurt a woman, but she is mentally unbalanced. For real.

  This isn’t a childhood crush gone past childhood. She’s sick. Or evil.

  I’m voting on evil.

  “I’m taking these off of you, and you’re going home and never coming back. We don’t need you or your father’s money.” With a click the handcuffs finally pop open, and she brings her hand down, rubbing her wrists.

  She’s still sprawled on my bed, naked, while I’m leaning over her. One leg wraps around my waist, and then another. I’m straining, yanking myself away from her when the door behind me swings open.

  With Kim in the doorway.

  Kim’s dazed eyes freeze open, and she steps back, reaching out for the door jamb to hold. She’s trembling, and her skin is so pale, I fear she’s going to faint. The noise that comes out of her mouth sounds like she’s drowning and can’t get a breath. Her jaw opens and closes. “Oh, God! Seriously, Sonia?” She turns and runs out the way she came.

  I pull away from this snake in my bed and tear off after Kim in the dark night lit by the string of lights between the house and the windows of the buildings. I bellow, “Kim! Wait! Wait!”

  Before I get to her, she’s collided into my mother, and they both hold each other by the arms for a moment before releasing.

  “Hostia,” says my mother, looking bewildered, then angry. “What is going on here? Why all the yelling?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Kim breathes, holding her stomach. “I didn’t mean—” Then she sees me, and her anger explodes. “I can’t believe Sonia’s in your room! Naked! On your bed!”

  Astonished, my mother turns to me. “Sonia is naked in your house?”

  My eyes roll to the heavens. “Madre, I don’t need you here. I need to talk to Kim.”

  “Fine. Talk to her.” She steps back, but doesn’t leave.

  Kim shivers in the cold, and I reach out to hold her, but she pulls away from me, muttering, “This is just too much.”

  “I need you to go,” I say to my mother. “You’ve been nothing but against me and Kim. You can’t solve this. I’ve made up my own mind to be with her.”

  But Kim shakes her head.

  “I know what’s best for you,” my mother starts, but Antonio and Guillermo come sprinting out of the house.

  Fuck.

  “No you don’t!” I tell my mother.

  “What is going on?” Guillermo asks.

  “Nada,” I say. Kim tries to get around my mom, and I run and square off to her, my eyes searching for hers. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  She bursts into tears. �
�It looked really bad, Tavo. You have to see it from my point of view. I come here, and I learn that you’re supposed to marry her. I know you don’t want to, or say you don’t want to, but I’ve seen you kiss her. You admit you fucked her.” Antonio and my mother have a collective intake of breath while Guillermo looks pissed. “And right now I find you with her when she’s naked in your bed. You’re on top of her. We just talked about it. I believe you. I trust you. But this is … it’s too far, Tavo.”

  “Kim, she was like that when I walked in there. I didn’t do anything.”

  She nods, but Guillermo steps forward, his face full of fury and his hands in fists. “Wait, you were fucking Sonia again? You told me you didn’t even like her, cojon. Me cago en la puta.”

  Jesus, will this ever end?

  “I didn’t. This is all a mistake,” I start, but my abuelo and Mari Carmen come walking briskly up.

  No. Fuck, no.

  “What’s all this racket?” my abuelo says. “Why is everyone yelling?”

  Leche. No audience. Just get me with Kim. I need to be alone with Kim. I’m safe when I’m with Kim.

  No such luck. Now everyone circles around us.

  “You have to believe me,” I plead to Kim.

  She bursts into tears. “I do. I did. I don’t know what is going on. I thought what we had was real.”

  “It is real, amor.”

  Kim shakes her head. “There’s so much going on here, I don’t know where to start.”

  My mother gestures to Kim. “Why are you making such a scene?”

  “Why are you blaming her?” I yell. “¡Qué mala leche!”

  Spinning to face my mother, fury in her eyes, Kim screeches, “Why are you having an affair with Mr. Molinero while you force your son to get married to his daughter?”

  Leaves rustle in the dark evening night. An owl hoots in the distance.

  Then the crowd explodes—my mother first.

  “What?” my mother gasps. “How did you find out about that?”

  I do a double take, turning to my mother. “What is this? What the actual fuck, Madre? You wanted me to marry Sonia, and now I find out you’re sleeping with Señor Molinero?”

  My mother opens her mouth. “That’s different. That has nothing to do with it.”