His Perfect Partner

by Priscilla Oliveras

  “She’s hardheaded. Like you.” Rosa set a stack of plates on the counter.

  Ignoring the jab, Yaz started filling the sink with warm water. “She’s hurting. Struggling with memories of Mami’s death.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She told me so this morning. I took a cup of coffee to her room and we shared it while you were hogging the bathroom.”

  “I’m never the one hogging the bathroom. That’s you two.” Rosa leaned a hip against the counter. Arms crossed, she frowned at Yaz. “And why hasn’t she said anything to me about how she’s feeling?”

  Yaz heard the hurt in Rosa’s voice and she rushed to soothe her. “I was surprised she mentioned it, really. She’s been so sullen and moody since Christmas. Don’t take it personally. We’re all in this together, okay?”

  A tense beat passed before Rosa nodded. Evidently she was still struggling with her need to fix everyone’s problems. Good luck with that idea.

  “Look, I’ve got Lilí’s kitchen duty covered tonight so your fancy schedule’s not in jeopardy of disruption.” Yaz glanced pointedly at the “organizational chore chart” Rosa had created and hung on the side of the refrigerator, like she’d done when they were in high school.

  “I don’t know what you have against being organized,” Rosa complained, probably still sore at Lilí’s snarky comments about the color-coded system. “I’m only trying to help.”

  “I know.”

  “A place for everything and everything in—”

  “—in its place.”

  Yaz shared a tender smile with her sister as together they finished one of Mami’s favorite mottos.

  “Somehow, her words stuck with you much better than with Lilí and me.” Yaz watched Rosa perusing the pictures stuck to the fridge door. She bit back a smile when Rosa started carefully lining up the photos in straight rows and columns.

  “From order comes peace. Serenity,” Rosa murmured.

  Things they all lacked now. And it was only getting worse.

  “Mira, I’ve got things covered down here. Vete arriba con Papi. Go up with him.” Soap bubbles flew through the air when Yaz flicked her wet hand toward the upstairs and repeated the words. “Maybe he’ll want you to read to him some more.”

  Rosa pulled a picture off the fridge. Her eyes glued to the image, she sank slowly into one of the kitchen chairs. “Tengo miedo, Yazmine.”

  Her sister’s softly whispered words pierced Yaz’s chest like a sharp dagger. Shutting off the stream of warm water, she took a steadying breath before turning to face Rosa. “I’m scared, too.”

  “It’s not fair.” Frustration and pain laced Rosa’s words. “I mean, I know that’s an absurd, infantile complaint. Life’s not fair. But I can’t help it. I want more moments like this.”

  Rosa turned the picture to show Yaz the candid shot of the four of them after Lilí’s high school graduation. Huge smiles, arms wrapped around each other. Papi’s face glowed with pride. None of them aware of the threat looming over their shoulders.

  “Don’t go there. It’ll only make this worse,” Yaz cautioned. “We have to take it one day at a time.”

  “You sound more levelheaded than I do. How’d that happen?” Rosa shook her head with a weary sigh.

  “I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Yaz strode over to wrap Rosa in a tight hug. “Now go check on Papi before I change my mind about covering Lilí’s dishwashing shift.”

  With a wistful look at the graduation photo, Rosa set it on the table, then left the kitchen.

  Biting her lip to stem the ever-present threat of tears, Yaz plopped down onto Rosa’s chair. She traced the smile on Papi’s lips, dragging her finger lightly over each of their faces. Rosa was right. This wasn’t fair.

  The new year was supposed to signal new beginnings, positive affirmations.

  Only, it didn’t for her. Not for any of them.

  Over the past few days, Papi had slowed down considerably. He complained more of fatigue. His body ached. His breaths were more difficult for him to catch. Yaz hadn’t said as much to her sisters, but she was afraid for Papi, for all of them. The downward spiral was happening too quickly. Like someone had jammed the fast-forward button on the video of their lives.

  She wasn’t ready to say good-bye to him. Didn’t think she’d ever be ready.

  The doorbell rang, dragging Yaz out of her depressing thoughts. She glanced at her watch, unable to think of who might be stopping by at eight forty-five on a Wednesday evening. Cheryl had mentioned grabbing dinner with coworkers after a staff meeting. None of Rosa’s close friends were in town. Pablo had been here most of the day.

  Reaching the door, she looked through the peephole, quickly drawing back in surprise when she recognized Tomás.

  She hadn’t seen him since the morning of January first when he’d picked up Maria from her house. Even when she’d gone over for the thank-you dinner Mrs. B had planned, Tomás had wound up working late.

  She’d been anxious to see him, tease him about sharing his first bottle of wine with her. Instead, he’d already fallen back into his old workaholic routine, concentrating on the Linton campaign now that his nanny was back.

  Silly as it was, she missed him. She’d tried convincing herself that going from seeing him every day to not at all was like ripping off a Band-Aid. The quicker you were done with it, the better. It hadn’t worked.

  Now that he stood on her front porch, snow dusting his broad shoulders, a tired yet hopeful expression in his sexy bedroom eyes, an excited thrill zinged through her.

  She made short work of the dead bolt and tugged open the front door. Despite her fleece pants and thick sweater, she shivered at the winter’s bite. “What brings you out in this weather? Hurry in, it’s freezing out there.”

  “¡Gracias! No matter how long I’ve lived in the Chicago area, I still can’t get used to this mess.”

  Tomás brushed passed her into the foyer, his musky scent mixing with the crisp smell of snow. Once inside, he shrugged out of his navy wool coat, draping it and his black scarf over a hook on the coatrack.

  “Are you just now getting home from the city?” she asked, noting he still wore his black pinstriped suit with his red and black tie—her favorite combination.

  He brushed the snow from his hair. “Linton moved up the deadline on our presentation so it’s been crazy since we got back from the holidays. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”

  “Old habits die hard, huh?”

  “I don’t plan on making it a habit anymore. If I can land this account, I’ll be golden. It’ll only be a matter of staying on top of things, keeping in touch with the old man so we’re rarely in this position again.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “A good plan.” He tilted his head forward, a wiseguy grin on his lips. Then he quickly sobered, glancing up the stairs. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to stop by and see Rey. I’ve been working in the city five, sometimes six days a week, getting home late after planning meetings. Do you think he’s still up?”

  “I’m not sure. Rosa’s sitting with him while I finish the dishes. You can go check if you want.”

  “How’s he doing?” Tomás’s face creased with worry, reminding her how his concern for her father had drawn her to him from that first time he’d come over for dinner.

  “He tires easily, and his pain is pretty much constant.” Yaz twisted the towel in her hands, hating the uselessness of letting the cancer run its course. “Dr. Lopez warned us it’s only going to get worse.”

  Tomás stilled her nervous movements by placing a hand over hers. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re strong. And you have the rest of us to lean on.”

  She knew she should smile, make a witty remark, but that was beyond her capabilities right now. Not with fear, frustration, and sorrow constantly bubbling to the surface.

  “If he’s still awake, I won’t stay long. I promise.”

  “He’ll be pleased to see
you.” She stepped back, sliding away from Tomás’s touch before she said something stupid like how pleased she was to see him. “I better get going. The dishes won’t wash themselves.”

  She started toward the kitchen.

  “Yaz!”

  When she glanced over her shoulder, Tomás already stood on the first step.

  “Are you driving to the studio to rehearse when you’re done?” he asked. “Or will you be around?”

  “I’ll be here. They’re calling for more snow tonight so I’m going to do my workout in the basement.”

  “I was hoping you’d have time to chat for a few minutes. I wanted to run something by you.”

  “Something . . . ?”

  “An idea for Linton. Funny, as much as you love giving me a hard time, you have a good eye. I wanted to get your opinion on the final idea.” He hesitated, his uncertainty a reminder of the distance that had cropped up between them the past couple of weeks. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. No problem.” Two could play the just-friends game.

  “Thanks. I’ll be down soon.”

  He flashed the lazy grin that won her over every time, then he took the stairs by twos, quickly disappearing around the top banister.

  Yaz strode back to the kitchen, warning herself not to get too excited. He valued her opinion. No big deal. Not a big deal at all.

  Yeah, right. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d actually believe it.

  * * *

  “A sandy beach, sunset skies, palm trees, a hammock hanging off to the side.” Tomás moved his hands through the air in front of him, trying to paint the picture for Yazmine. They sat at her kitchen table, the smell of a strong pot of coffee, freshly brewed, and warm air from the vent giving the room a cozy feel.

  “The sky’s a vibrant mix of varying shades of peach and blood orange with a touch of wispy purplish, light blue clouds. Two figures in shadow. A diamond ring sparkling in a box in the guy’s hand.”

  He had counted on Yaz’s teasing grin and smart-aleck comments to keep him levelheaded. Instead, her eyes filled with a dreamy expression he hadn’t seen before. Her lips parted as she pictured the scene he created for her.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “I can see it. Sounds beautiful.”

  She was beautiful.

  The thought had his blood heating.

  Damn! He dragged his attention back to his presentation, before things got embarrassing for him. “Emblazoned across the sky in silvery letters we have the slogan, sparkling like diamonds on a midnight tapestry.”

  “¿Qué dice?” Yaz slowly lifted her mug to her lips, her gaze pensive, considering. Alluring even though she probably didn’t even realize it.

  “It says: Linton—for a love that lasts a lifetime.”

  The dreamy look on her face vanished, replaced by a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. “Hmmm, sounds familiar.”

  She remembered.

  He smiled back, pleased with her reaction to the campaign and her part in it. “That night you came over after Maria had gone to bed. We talked about Linton Jewelry and shared a bottle of wine.” The night they’d danced in front of the fireplace together. “You tossed out some flippant remark. Which doesn’t surprise me.”

  She narrowed her cat eyes at him, her saucy mouth still quirked.

  He arched a brow. “If the shoe fits.”

  “I prefer a sti—”

  “Stiletto. I know.”

  He dodged the balled-up napkin she threw at him, his coffee sloshing out of his mug. “Easy. Seriously though . . .”

  He used her weapon to soak up the spilled liquid. “You inspired me. It’s nice to have an outsider’s point of view every once in a while. I finally feel like this campaign is coming together, and I owe it in part to you.”

  She looked down at her mug, but not before he noticed the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

  She was a study in contrasts, this woman. Had been since the first day he’d met her.

  That was part of what kept him on his toes around her. Part of what made her so damnably captivating.

  “I still owe you a glass of wine, don’t I? Sorry about missing dinner the other evening.”

  “Forget about it.” There was a beat of silence before she glanced back up at him. He caught a hint of resignation flashing in her gaze. “We both have a lot on our plates. Save the wine for Cheryl. How’s that going, by the way? She and I have been so busy the past couple of weeks, we haven’t connected much.”

  Tomás took a sip of his coffee, considering how to respond. Cheryl wasn’t really a topic he cared to discuss with Yaz. He hadn’t spoken much to the easygoing teacher himself lately, and while their New Year’s Eve party hadn’t been a dud, something had felt . . . off.

  Honestly, going out on a date was about the last thing on his mind right now. “I’m not so sur—”

  “Yazmine! Yazmine!”

  Rosa’s cry of alarm reverberated through the house. In seconds, Tomás was racing up the stairs, Yaz nipping at his heels. Together they tore into Reynaldo’s room.

  “What’s wrong?” Yaz cried, her voice a screech of fear.

  Rey still sat up in his bed, but he looked much paler than he had twenty minutes ago when Tomás had visited with him. His skin was ashen, his body in spasms as he struggled for breath.

  “What should I—We have to—He needs help!” Rosa’s eyes bugged out in alarm. Her hands shook as they fluttered through the air in her agitation.

  “Cálmate,” Rey gasped.

  “Calm down?” Yaz squeaked. She elbowed Rosa aside, then fell to her knees next to the bed.

  Rey grabbed at his chest, tugging at his flannel pajama top. “No puedo, I can’t, can’t breathe.”

  “It’s okay, Papi. Rosa, call 911,” Yaz ordered.

  Rosa stood frozen, staring at their father, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. In seconds she’d gone from an agitated mess to a mute statue. Tomás doubted she’d be able to put together a coherent sentence at this point.

  “I got it.” He whipped out his cell phone.

  Rey shook his head. “No. Stay. Here.” His words were broken up by his desperate gasps. “Estoy. Bien.”

  “Papi, you’re not fine.” Yaz’s voice trembled. “Tomás, please call an ambulance.”

  “No, no.” Rey’s agitation increased. He waved at Tomás with jerky motions.

  “Why don’t I call Dr. Lopez, too? He can decide the best course of action,” Tomás suggested. It was obvious Rey didn’t want to go to the hospital, but his daughters needed the comfort of a medical opinion.

  Rey nodded, continuing to wheeze.

  Yaz looked up at Tomás. He could see her struggling to contain her panic. Whatever he had to do to help her, he would.

  “How do I reach the doctor?” Tomás waited, his fingers poised to key in the digits.

  Yaz rattled off the number, rubbing a hand up and down Rey’s back.

  Tomás stepped over to Rosa so he could put an arm around her stiff shoulders. Pale-faced, her expression shell-shocked, she looked like she might shatter into a gazillion pieces if someone didn’t hold her together.

  Moments later they’d been reassured that Dr. Lopez and the ambulance were on their way. Rey had slid down to lay in bed, his breathing shallow, but steady. Yaz carefully adjusted the pillows behind his head.

  Tomás gently led Rosa over to sit on the end of the bed.

  “Está bien,” he told her gently. “Help is on the way.”

  Noting the sheen of sweat on her face, he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it in her hands. “Take a deep breath. Hold it in for a couple of seconds. There you go. Release. Now slowly take in another.”

  Rosa gazed up at him, her brown eyes huge orbs filled with terror.

  “It’s okay,” he repeated, sinking down to sit beside her. He brushed her hair out of her face, seeking to comfort her like he would his own sister. “It’s scary, I know.”

  Yaz laid
a hand on Rosa’s shoulder. “Hang in there with me. We’ll be okay. You hear me?”

  “Lilí,” Rosa whispered, her lips barely moving.

  “I’ve got it covered.” Scrolling through his contacts, Tomás tapped Lilí’s name, thankful he’d thought to save her number the one time she’d relayed a message about Maria. This wasn’t a call he wanted to place, but no way would he make Yaz or Rosa do it.

  “Hi Lilí, it’s Tomás,” he said when she picked up on the third ring.

  “Tomás?”

  He stood up, lowering his voice and stepping out into the hallway when he heard Lilí’s surprise. “I’m sorry to call you like this, but you need to head home. Now.”

  “What’s wrong? Is Papi—”

  “He’s holding his own, at the moment,” Tomás rushed to reassure her. “Dr. Lopez is on his way.”

  “What happened? Where’s Yaz? Where’s Rosa? They’re both supposed to be there!”

  “They’re here, we’re all here.” He worked to use a soothing tone in an effort to stop the rising hysteria he heard in her young voice. “But they want you with them. Can someone else drive you? If not, I’ll come get you.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. One of my friends will do it . . .” Lilí trailed off, probably like her sisters, her thoughts scrambling in different directions, unable to make sense of anything. Hell, his own heart was racing, and Rey wasn’t his father.

  “The most important thing is for you to get here safely. We’ll be waiting for you.” He turned when he felt someone touch his elbow. “Hold on a minute.”

  He passed the phone to Yaz, her hand trembling as she lifted it to her ear.

  “Come home, Lilí. We need you.” Yaz’s voice caught on the last word. Tomás heard Lilí’s tinny “okay” through the speaker before Yaz silently cut the connection.

  Tomás enveloped her in his arms, wishing like hell he could shield her from this pain. Hating the impotence of it all.

  He felt a shudder go through her, knew she fought to pull herself together for her sisters’ sake as well as Rey’s. Dios, how he admired this strong, passionate woman.

  “Hold on to me if you need to. I’m here,” he said, tightening his embrace.