Isabella moved quietly, elegantly, and Erin couldn’t stop her eyes from taking in the contours of soft curves and the thin waist the fitted pajamas hinted at.
Dammit, you’re objectifying again. Bad lesbian, she cursed inwardly and looked away.
When she glanced back, Isabella was gone again and talking about her caffeine intake.
“I gave up coffee the first months of carrying Alberto. Abstinence turned me into more of a monster than I thought possible. When I shouted at my very sweet and mild-mannered father, I gave up and allowed myself one cup a day. This size of cup.”
Isabella held out a small coffee cup in front of the iPad.
“That looks barely big enough to hold an espresso.” Erin was appalled.
Isabella hummed her agreement, and Erin had to hold on to the seat of her chair to keep herself from thinking about the lovely low purr in that hum.
“When Alberto was born, and he never slept through the night because of his troublesome tummy, I asked my doctor if it was advisable to up the dosage to two cups a day. He said that it would be the equivalent of a normal mug of coffee per day and that he thought it was fine. So here I am. Having my second cup.”
“Makes sense to me. You gotta keep yourself sane to be able to look after him. If coffee allows that, then go for it. It’s not like our moms didn’t drink coffee or tea when we were babies, right?”
“I believe Mother even smoked at the start of her pregnancy. Probably explains a lot about me,” Isabella quipped dryly.
“Yeah, that explains why you walk around looking perfect when you should be a mess, I suppose. There’s something really weird about that, for sure,” Erin said.
She tensed. Was that acceptable as platonic friends, or did she just sound like she was hitting on Isabella?
Isabella gave another of those soft chuckles. “You’re very kind. I should pay you to give me a compliment like that every day.”
“Send me some of that pricey coffee, and you’ll have paid for a nightly compliment for, like, two years.”
Another chuckle, and then Erin heard the sound of pouring. Isabella must have moved to the side to get to her cup, because suddenly Erin could see her hip on her screen. As she turned ever so slightly, Erin saw the profile of a very nicely rounded behind.
The thoughts running through Erin’s head were definitely not platonic. She hated herself for not being able to stop them. She clenched her jaw shut, painfully tight.
“Um, Isabella. I’m gonna go and try for some sleep, actually. I doubt it will work, but since muscles heal during sleep, it might be the only way to make sure I don’t wake up tense after that hardcore gym session earlier. Sorry to abandon you right when you got your coffee and all, but you know…”
Isabella sounded confused as she said, “all right,” but then collected and poised again as she followed up with, “If you think you can get some sleep, then you should obviously try. I’m sure Alberto will wake up any moment now, anyway. And I should be getting on with some writing.”
“Okay, cool,” Erin replied, eager to end the call.
“I suppose I’ll see you in a normal text chat tomorrow night or perhaps the night after. Take care, and I do hope you get some sleep.”
Erin didn’t comment on how unlikely her sleeping was, she just tried to sound normal as she replied, “Yeah, sure. I hope lil’ guy lets you have a few hours, too. Talk later. Bye.”
She hung up. With a sigh, she ran a hand over her face. That had turned into a disaster. She had pretty much drooled over every part of this poor woman and then run away in the middle of what promised to be a really interesting chat.
The worst part was that she wondered if she would have been almost as bad if she hadn’t seen and heard Isabella but just text chatted. She just seemed to be geared toward liking this woman, liking her a little too much. Was it just her recent loneliness and celibate lifestyle confusing her? Somehow, she didn’t think it was that simple.
There was no way she was going to sleep or be able to focus on anything meaningful, so Erin threw herself on the bed, which doubled as couch in her small apartment, and turned on the TV. She found an old rerun of a sitcom to watch.
A whole two seconds passed, before she started thinking about Isabella. Had she upset her by just leaving like that? It didn’t seem likely, but then Isabella was that cool, classy kind of person who, in Erin’s experience, tended to have a good poker face. Erin couldn’t even start to guess what she was thinking. She tried to focus on the sitcom and getting sleepy.
After a while, she gave up and rolled over to open her bedside table drawer. She fished out an old pill dispenser and shook one of the turquoise capsules into the palm of her hand. She hated how sleeping pills made her feel the day after, but she wasn’t going to stop obsessing unless she could knock her brain out. This was a better option than five shots of bourbon.
She went into the bathroom, poured some water into her hand, and swallowed the capsule. Then she brushed her teeth and went back to the bed. After about an hour of trying to focus on watching TV, she was lost in fevered dreams, chasing something she needed without knowing what it was.
Chapter 6
The Past Is Always with Us
The next morning, Isabella went down to breakfast and yelped when she walked straight into Richard. The collision was painless, merely startling. They ended up looking at each other in mutual confusion.
“G-good morning,” he mumbled, voice gruff with sleep.
“Richard. I thought you’d be on your way to work by now?”
“I got the chance to sleep in. I’m going in a little late today because I have a meeting that’ll drag on later. Erm, you shouldn’t expect me home for dinner. Sorry, didn’t I tell you about that?”
For a moment, Isabella wasn’t sure. Could she have forgotten? With a sense of sadness, she realized that they hadn’t had any meaningful conversations in a very long time.
“I don’t think so. We…we haven’t spoken much lately.”
He scratched at his unshaven chin. “No, I guess we haven’t. Sorry. I should have made a point to mention it. I hope you didn’t have big dinner plans.”
“Nothing special, no. I’ll just make dinner for us both and put yours in a Tupperware box in the fridge for you. You can heat it up later, if you want it.”
He smiled, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah. And if me and the guys grab takeaway tonight, I can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“Yes. Good idea.”
“Right. Thanks for doing that.”
“Of course,” Isabella answered.
They were silent for a moment. It felt so awkward and so fragile. Isabella wracked her brain for something to say.
“Alberto actually got some sleep last night.”
Richard put his hands in his pockets and seemed to be trying to look relaxed. It wasn’t working. “Oh, did he? That’s good.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?” Richard asked.
“Pardon?”
“Did you get some sleep,” Richard clarified.
Isabella groaned at her own stupidity. “Right, sorry. Not quite awake yet. Yes, I slept a little. You?”
“Slept like the dead.”
“That’s good,” Isabella said.
Was the clock in the kitchen ticking louder than usual?
Richard cleared his throat. “Yes. Um. So, where’s Alberto now?”
“Upstairs. Sleeping. I just changed and fed him, and then he fell right to back asleep.”
“I see. Well, we should probably get ourselves fed too,” he said.
Isabella nodded, grateful that the stilted conversation seemed to be over.
She went for the cabinet where her coffee was kept and opened the door just as Richard reached for the cabinet next to her. They almost bumped into each other again. Instead they both stepped back quickly—Richard seemed as eager to avoid contact with her as she was with him.
“Oh, sorry. I was just going to get my granola,
” he explained.
“That’s quite all right. Go ahead.”
Isabella moved back another step and watched Richard gingerly reach past her to get to his granola. Were they really so terrified of touching each other? Why? They were lovers once. They were partners in this family. Now they edged around each other like strangers afraid of bothering each other in any way. When had this happened? Why hadn’t she noticed it happening? She gave a long exhale. That was part of the problem, wasn’t it? She had noticed. She’d just never bothered to question it before.
He stopped mid-move. “You know what? I think I’ll stop somewhere for breakfast before going to work. That way I won’t be in your way.”
Isabella suddenly felt even worse. “Oh, don’t leave on my account. This is your house too. I can wait until you’re done.”
He smiled and shook his head. “It’s easier if I get something to eat on the way. It can be a treat to celebrate getting the morning off.”
“If you think it’s best,” she said hesitantly.
“I do. I’ll just go up and quickly shave and get dressed. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Why don’t you stop in to kiss Alberto goodbye on the way? You rarely get to see him in the morning.”
Richard shrugged, seeming distracted by his watch. “I wouldn’t want to wake him. Let him sleep. I’m sure I’ll see him tonight.”
“Oh. Okay, if you’re sure.”
She could hear the confusion in her own voice and hoped it hadn’t sounded judgmental. They both knew he could give Alberto a quick kiss on the head without waking him. Clearly, Richard either didn’t see the need or didn’t have the desire to do so. She wasn’t sure which option upset her most, the ignorance of his son’s needs or indifference to them. Be fair, Isabella. He’s a good man, and a good father. Perhaps he’s just uncomfortable with such a small baby. It’s not uncommon among men for that to be the case. Look at all the time he spends with Joshua. The five-year-old son of Richard’s prior marriage certainly benefitted from the huge amount of time Richard devoted to him on the weekends, and it was clear to see how much he loved the boy.
She watched him walk out the door and wondered what it would take for him to be as comfortable with Alberto as he was with Joshua. A niggling voice at the back of her head was quick to answer. You giving him a chance, perhaps? Instead of hovering over the child like the overprotective lioness all the time. He’s Alberto’s father. He won’t hurt him if you leave them alone together for an hour.
She heard him walk upstairs, as she got her Azúcar Negra out and began to brew the life-giving coffee before serving herself some yogurt, topped with nuts and honey. As she ate, Richard came back downstairs.
As he was lacing up his boots, he said, “I’m going to head out then. Have a good day, Isabella.”
She quickly swallowed her mouthful. “Goodbye. You have a good day, as well. I’ll see you tonight.”
Richard picked up his keys and jacket. He looked at her as if he was thinking about something. He took a step in her direction. Then he backed away again.
Turning to the door, he waved at her and left.
She stared after him.
A wave? Since when do we wave to each other? We used to at least kiss each other on the cheek. Should I have kissed him on the cheek? She tried to remember the last time he had kissed her when he left for work. She couldn’t.
Worse than that, she realized she didn’t care. Worse still, she was relieved. Relieved that she hadn’t had to pretend to be receptive. The kiss would just have been unpleasant, and stilted, and…fake.
Besides, her coffee was ready.
Isabella had other things on her mind, things that were just as difficult, yet at the same time easier for her to focus on. She couldn’t shake her conversation with Erin the night before. Talking about her relationship with her mother brought up thoughts she usually buried deep.
As she put her little cup of coffee on the table, she heard Alberto make mewling noises from upstairs, and went to fetch him. He soon fell back asleep once he was with her in the kitchen, and she finished the last of her yogurt.
The house was silent again. Isabella sat at the table, sipping her coffee, a feeling of discomfort lodged deep in her stomach.
She picked up her phone and flicked through her text messages, quickly finding the one she was looking for. Her sister, Marie, casually informing Isabella that she’d stopped dating her latest love interest. The very successful and equally dull Steve.
That sort of text didn’t require a reply, and Isabella had to admit that she’d decided not to, just to ward off a conversation. She loved Marie, she truly did. Yet she avoided talking to her for long periods of time. They were too different and that really showed when they spoke for too long.
After last night’s conversation with Erin, the appeal of connecting with someone who knew what it was like growing up with Judith Martinez was undeniable. Even though Marie had been taken in by their family as a teenager and only had to put up with Judith for a few years before she moved out. Besides, it would be a good distraction from thinking about her encounter with Richard. She decided to reply and wondered about what to say.
Sorry to hear that. To use a vile but correct cliché, there’s plenty more fish in the sea. You’ll find the right man for you soon.
Considerably less acerbic and more sisterly than her normal replies, but she was satisfied she’d reached out and done her bit. She knew there might be a text back but felt her reply had been phrased in such a way that it wasn’t inviting a long conversation. Instead the phone rang. Damn. Isabella reluctantly tapped the screen to answer.
Before she even had time to say hello, she heard the words, “A magnificently good morning to you, darling sister!”
Isabella groaned. “What was it about that message that made you feel the need to call me, Marie?”
“Ooooh, charming as ever. Maybe I missed you? Thanks for replying, by the way. Even if you didn’t need to. Does that mean you missed me too?”
Isabella smiled as she shook her head at her impossible, cutesy, chirpy, infuriating sibling. “It meant that I have a sisterly duty to make sure you’re all right. Steve’s not in the picture anymore, and while I know you weren’t that invested in him, I thought I should check on you anyway.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She had planned to check up on Marie soon.
“Aw, thank you. You know me. I bounce back in two seconds flat. He was too settled in negative thought patterns for me, and I was relieved when he called it quits. Still, you know how I hate being single. I know I’m supposed to use this time to draw strength from being untethered and center myself. But I really miss the partnership and physical affection.”
Isabella merely hummed in response and walked over to Alberto who was writhing a bit, clearly having some stomach issues.
“Another year without marriage and procreation for me. Not exactly the progress a member of the Martinez family is expected to be making, huh?” Marie said, her cheerful tone faltering a little.
Just like that, they were talking about their mother. Isabella felt herself freeze up. Deep down, wasn’t that what she’d wanted but been unable to admit? To talk to someone who understood? Someone who remembered?
“Have you told her and Daddy that you broke up with Steve?”
Marie laughed mirthlessly, something rare for the happy-go-lucky woman. “I sure have.”
Isabella fiddled with the hem of Alberto’s trouser leg, before she caught herself and stilled her hands. “And?”
“And…well, you know how she has certain expectations, and she’ll do anything to steer you toward them? And how she can talk to you until you get things all muddled and feel that her choices for you are more important than your own?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Isabella replied.
“Well, she nearly convinced me that I should try to get him back. She talked for ages about how it was more important that he was financially stable and came from a good family, than it was to
enjoy his company. I honestly wonder what world she lives in sometimes.”
“One where she knows better than everyone else and there is a strict social hierarchy to obey,” Isabella replied, feeling herself grimace as she said the words.
“Yes. I suppose so. Still, she means well. I think. I don’t mean to excuse her behavior, of course. I know she’s a lot harder on you than she is on me.” Marie paused. “You know, that’s actually a bit of a mystery. I mean, you’ve got the man and the child, so you’re settled and giving her grandchildren as per the Martinez expectation. You were wildly successful in your career. However, it still isn’t enough. She’s still not happy.” She hummed. “Maybe it’s because you’re her biological daughter and I’m not. That makes sense, right? I get more of a break because I’m a Bowman and not a Martinez.”
Isabella let out a breath. “Maybe. Which is ridiculous, as you are just as much a part of this family as I am. Let me set you straight, though. I get no points for having a man in my life for two reasons. One, we’re not married, and two, he doesn’t pass for what Mother thinks is “acceptable.” Richard doesn’t have the kind of job Mother thinks is fitting for a man of standing, he doesn’t come from a noble background, nor is he a social climber. As far as she’s concerned, he’s one step above a vagrant. Barely. You know that. I’ve sat through enough dinners with her complaining about your relationships to be under no illusion that she doesn’t do the same to you. I’m sure you’ve heard all that and more, straight from the horse’s mouth, as they say.”
“Mm, true, she said as much to me again when I last spoke to her a couple of days ago. I think she was trying to pry information out of me.”
Isabella felt her stomach knot. It was an irrational, emotional response. She was a grown woman, in charge of her own life, yet still her mother had this power over her. This ability to affect her on such a visceral level that she felt physical discomfort, sometimes even pain, at the thought of Judith’s intervention, or rather meddling, in her life. “What about?”
Marie hummed again, sounding reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. “Whether the two of you are getting married soon. I gathered from her tone that she thinks you should be married at your age, but she’s still sort of happy you’re not, because it’s Richard.”
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