Forever Destiny

by Mia Rodriguez

  “And we’re going to help her,” Lorenzo assured.

  “You will?” asked Mrs. Beltran.

  “We really want her to graduate and go to college,” said Valeria.

  “This is what we live for,” Lorenzo stated.

  “Ema can do it.” assured Valeria.

  Lorenzo nodded. “She can.”

  Moments later, after finishing their conversation with Mrs. Beltran and Ema, Valeria and Lorenzo walked slowly to their cars. Like accomplices in a secret endeavor, they savored each tiny second of their connection. They smiled warmly at each other, radiating a quiet accomplishment.

  “I’m so glad we decided to come,” said Lorenzo with a joyous timbre in his voice.

  “This is what teaching is about.”

  “You were great in there,” Lorenzo asserted.

  “So were you.”

  “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it?”

  “What is?” Valeria asked, staring into him as he pulled her in.

  “The feeling of touching someone’s life.”

  “Completely amazing.”

  On the drive home, each in their own car, they had the same thought—wouldn't it be great if they could share this tremendous experience with their significant others? If they could tell them about it and be understood?—not just a polite smile from them and an 'I'm happy because you're happy' expression but a true understanding of what it meant to have an all-consuming urge to be of assistance to those slipping through the cracks of society. Wouldn't it be something to have with their lovers what they had shared with basically a stranger?

  Chapter 15

  "What do you want from the freezer, Enzo?" asked Kate, giving the shopping list in her hand a once over to make certain she and Lorenzo had gotten everything they needed from the supermarket.

  "Nothing," he stated, staring at the extra spicy chicken wings in a bag.

  "Do you want these?" Kate asked, opening the freezer door to grab the hot wings.

  "Leave them," he stated miserably.

  "But--"

  "Leave them."

  "Okay, I sure can't eat them. They irritate my stomach."

  If the wings tasted anything like the ones at Antojitos, he thought, he wouldn't be able to get his mind off of the restaurant and who he had shared the burning appetizers with. He forced his thoughts back on Kate who led him towards the checkout stand as he pushed the heavy cart full of food.

  "I was thinking, do you think we can have a date night tomorrow?" asked Kate.

  "Sure."

  "I really want to see this movie. Don't worry—it's not a horror film or a romance," she stated as they got in line behind several shoppers.

  "Sounds good."

  "It's just one of those true stories about a young woman who overcame all kinds of obstacles to go to college and become successful."

  He chuckled lightly.

  "What's funny?" she asked.

  "Nothing—just an inside thing."

  "Anyway, I thought we could see the movie tomorrow and then on Sunday you could go with me to the car dealership."

  Lorenzo frowned loudly. "For what?"

  "What else? I need a new car."

  "A new car?" he asked, baffled. "Are you kidding me?"

  "Enzo," she said sternly, "you know I get a new car every two years or so. I've had this one for three years. It's time."

  "Your car is practically new."

  "What do you mean new? It's--"

  "Okay, okay," he mumbled. "It's really none of my business what you do with your money."

  "No, it's not," she snapped defensively.

  Lorenzo tried to soften his stance. "I guess it's hard for me to understand since I've had the same car for five years."

  "It's a clunker. While you're with me at the dealership, you should pick out a new car for yourself."

  "I like my car," he declared, a slight growl to his tone. "And I have too much to do on Sunday. I'm not going with you."

  "But—"

  "Katie, I really don't want to go. It feels like a complete waste of time to me. You're the one who negotiates with the salesperson and knows all about the different makes and models. You don't need me there."

  "It would be nice for you to help me pick, if we could do this as a couple," she explained, her eyes hopeful.

  "I've just got too much to do on Sunday," he lied.

  Chapter 16

  As Valeria and Leonel drove away from the beautiful home he lived in with his mother and two sisters, Valeria sighed. Visiting his family was always an excruciating ordeal and when it was over, she was completely drained. His family prattled on, filling her ears with the most headache-inducing gibberish.

  "So and so just bought an island."

  "So and so just married an heiress."

  "So and so just lost all his money."

  Who cares?!!! But it was worse when they got on their appearance merry-go-round.

  "You should stay out of the sun. You're getting darker," they'd tell each other and Valeria. Of which Valeria couldn't hold in her frustrations any longer and snapped, "I like being dark--not a lot of wrinkles show through."

  Valeria didn't actually have anything against wrinkles but knew that Leonel's botoxed up family obsessed about them. It irritated Valeria that in this day and age skin color ignorance was still prevalent.

  Leonel glanced at the rear view mirror and smiled at what he saw. Valeria knew how much he loved the palatial house he rented, even when he could barely afford it each month. Still, she didn't see the point of living paycheck to paycheck just to keep up with appearances. What nonsense was that?

  “Sorry about my family,” apologized Leonel, something he did frequently when it came to them. “They’ve never accepted what happened to my dad and our fall from fortune.”

  That's an understatement, thought Valeria.

  His mother and sisters lived in the past—always talking about when they were wealthy. Their condescending conversations were only about what they had owned, lavish trips they had taken, and who they had known. Valeria could care less for any of this and found it almost impossible to keep her face from looking bored.

  “Leonel,” Valeria said quietly, “I’m never going to be who they want me to be. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Val,” his voice turned very serious, “they’ll eventually have to come to terms with the fact that we’re not rich anymore and about you and me. They’ll have to.”

  Valeria stared out the window, not convinced even an iota about what Leonel was saying. In her experience, people didn’t face what they didn’t want to look at and they could go from one experience to another still desperately clinging to illusions instead of maturing. He took one hand off the steering wheel, wrapped his fingers around hers, and kissed the palm of her hand.

  “Let’s talk about something more important,” he murmured.

  “Huh?”

  “Let’s talk about something very, very important,” he emphasized.

  “What do you want to talk about?

  “It’s time we set the date for our wedding, don’t you think?”

  “Leonel, I—“

  “No more excuses, Val. No more,” he groaned.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “You’re right.”

  “We’ve got to set a date,” he insisted. “I’m tired of waiting.”

  Valeria nodded solemnly. “Okay, we’ll set the date.”

  Leonel became pensive. “How about July? That’ll give us enough time to do everything we need.”

  “Okay.”

  Leonel kissed her palm again. “You’ve made me so happy.”

  She managed a weak smile.

  That night, she fell into an uneasy sleep. Tossing and turning, she was only half asleep until she finally succumbed.

  Not again! she said to herself as she awoke with an abrupt start. She had been certain that when she had finished treatments with Dr. O'Leary, it was the end of t
he recurring nightmare.

  But it was back.

  And it was back with a vengeance.

  It was more intense than before, more teeth grinding, and more excruciating. An explosion. She was unconscious and pregnant on the ground. A sharp knife coming at her.

  Would she ever be free from her recurring nightmare?

  Chapter 17

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Mrs. Loya of her daughter, her face in a know-it-all scrunch that mothers sometimes had.

  Having arrived moments ago at her parents’ house with the big news, Valeria needed to start shoving her nightmare aside and forcing herself to plan her wedding. Her mother, though, wasn't making it easy.

  “Mom, what do you mean if I’m sure?” replied Valeria.

  “Do you really want to marry him? Do you?” Her eyes challenged her daughter.

  “What kind of question is that?” asked Valeria, more disturbed than angry.

  “Maybe you should wait a year before setting the date. It’s an excellent idea even if I do say so myself.”

  “I’ve already postponed it enough. Why don’t you like Leonel, Mom?”

  “He’s okay.” she grumbled.

  “Just okay?”

  “He's uppity like a coddled reality show star.”

  “Not that again. He's a perfectly nice guy.”

  “Maybe,” Mrs. Loya said, shrugging her shoulders. “It doesn’t really matter how I feel. If chickens can get used to peacocks in their coups then I can too. It only matters how you feel and . . .”

  “And what?”

  “I don’t think you really love him—there I said it.”

  “What?”

  Her eyes stared firmly at Valeria. “You don’t love him.”

  “Of course I love him,” insisted Valeria, her voice small and shaky.

  “I get the impression that you love him but are not in love with him.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “What’s the difference?!” her mother repeated incredulously. “One is a feeling of affection but the other is a feeling of overwhelming destino.”

  “Destiny?” asked Valeria, scrunching her face.

  “Yes, destiny.”

  “But, Mom, you’re the one who always told me while I was growing up to keep my feet on the ground. What’s this thing about destiny?”

  “I told you to keep your feet on the ground, but I didn’t mean for you to plant yourself in it,” she declared, her voice chastising. “Finding the right person for yourself isn’t just any little thing. You’ve got to find the one who will unlock who you are from the inside. That’s what I’m talking about when I say destiny.”

  “I’m forty-two-years-old and not a teen-ager. I don’t fall head over heals. Leonel and I have a good friendship and that’s what’s important.”

  “I agree that friendship in a marriage is very important but have you ever heard that love is friendship set on fire, Valeria?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your friendship with Leonel set on fire?” Mrs. Loya asked smugly. “I don't think so.”

  “Mom, stop please. I’ve set a date and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Think about what I’m telling you, Valeria,” she demanded. “Just think about it. Any chicken can run to a paved street thinking it has found freedom. But a careless car will soon change its mind.”

  The last bell rang, filling the hallways with noisy teen-agers thrilled to be on their way home. Convincing himself that it was reasonable to want to talk to Valeria, Lorenzo headed in her direction. A week had already passed since visiting Ema, and he wanted to know how she was doing in Valeria’s class.

  “She’s doing great,” Valeria informed him, a pretty smile on her lips.

  “Would you like to have a Coke, and we can talk about it some more?” Lorenzo asked nervously.

  “I think that’s a good idea.”

  At Antojitos, they ordered the exact same appetizers as the previous occasion. Main entrées were still prohibitive but snacks and sodas seemed less threatening. The red-hot chicken wings were even spicier than he had remembered.

  “Ema’s like a new human being,” informed Valeria, her focus laying solidly on the checkered tablecloth with only a sidelong glance at Lorenzo.

  “I’ve noticed it too,” he answered, warmth emanating from the smile on his lips.

  “I’m so proud of her,” gushed Valeria, meeting Lorenzo’s eyes straight on.

  Lorenzo noted the flicker in her eyes, as if there was so much spark inside of her, it was barely contained. “Visiting her last week was a great idea.”

  “It was,” she agreed.

  Lorenzo nodded contentedly. Then the sparkle of her engagement ring caught his eye, and his smile straightened into a harsh line. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound as casual as possible. “How’s your engagement going?”

  “My wedding engagement?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “Great,” she replied nervously. “We’ve set the date.”

  “You have?” he asked, not being able to help the unevenness in his tone or the abrupt quality.

  “Yes. . . What about you, Lorenzo?” she asked with hesitation. “Do you have anyone special?”

  It took him a few seconds to answer and when he did, he couldn’t look at her. “Yes . . . I live with someone.”

  “Oh,” was all she could manage to say.

  He nodded. “Yes,” he muttered.

  “I guess we’re both lucky to have special people in our lives.”

  “I guess so,” he said softly.

  “I’m glad we’re friends,” Valeria said abruptly. “We make a good team when it comes to our students.”

  “Yes,” he affirmed. “You’re right.”

  “I’m glad we made a connection.”

  “Me too. In fact, let me give you my cell number in case anything comes up with a student.”

  “That’s a great idea,” she said, looking in her purse. “And I’ll give you mine if I can find a pen.”

  He immediately pulled one out. “Here you go.”

  As she extended her hand to grab it, his fingers awkwardly bumped into hers. She abruptly pulled her hand away, leaving him with the sensation of soft flower petals on his skin. Heated vibrations agitated his fingers. It reminded him of the first time he had shaken her hand. Same touch, same feel, same woman. But different everything else. Including a different him because he wasn't the same from before he had met her. Not the same at all.

  Chapter 18

  The next day, Valeria was still thinking about her moment with Lorenzo in Antojitos when the complete unexpected happened. There was nothing left to do but stare in flabbergasted disbelief. Valeria was downright shocked when Leonel had merrily stepped in her classroom. She couldn't have been more surprised if a cow had walked in the door. He had never visited her at school—NEVER. He wore his grin proudly and carried a large bouquet of bright flowers. Valeria hadn’t realized that he had paid attention when she had told him about the exact time of her free period.

  “To the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, handing her the red roses. When she took them, his expectant lips reached for hers.

  “No,” she blurted as she quickly stepped away from him.

  “No?” he asked, confused and hurt.

  “Please don’t try to kiss me.” She kept her voice even instead of snapping at him. The invasion of space was clawing at her like a cat clawed a piece of furniture.

  “Why?”

  “Leo, I’m at my work.”

  “You’re here by yourself,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  “There’s a window on my door.”

  “Who’d be watching?”

  “A student could be passing by,” she said, shifting her eyes to the glass absent-mindedly. Lorenzo wasn't at the front part of his classroom.

  “Val, aren’t you being a littl
e prude? Those kids probably watch all kinds of junk on TV. A kiss from me to you won’t pervert them.”

  “Leonel, I’d just rather keep my private life and work life separate, if that’s okay.”

  Leonel looked like a dejected child. “I come all this way to give you flowers for no particular occasion—just to tell you I love you and this is the thanks I get.”

  Valeria sighed. “I’m sorry, Leo.”

  As Leonel was leaving, Valeria quietly walked him out the door to an empty hallway. He abruptly stopped when he glanced across the hall and through Lorenzo's glass slat.

  “Who is that?” blurted Leonel, his voice in a guttural growl as he indicated Lorenzo who was now in front of his classroom. “Do you know him?”

  As if on cue, Lorenzo shifted his eyes to his window. Obviously startled, he kept his steady sight on Leonel. Both men glared at each other, their stares poisonous. Valeria immediately stepped in the middle of their line of vision, breaking the antagonistic spell.

  “Are you going back to work?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

  He wouldn't allow it. “Who is he?” Leonel repeated.

  “Obviously a teacher,” Valeria stated wryly.

  “He gives me bad vibes.”

  “Bad vibes?”

  “Something about him. You should stay away from him.”

  “I come to teach—not to socialize.”

  “Okay—good.”

  “Do you have a lot of work today?” asked Valeria, attempting to change the subject for the second time.

  “Yes,” he threw out with a tight voice as he shifted his unhappy face from the window. “But I’ll make time for you tonight.”

  “Leonel, if you’re busy—“

  “Val, I really want to spend some time with you this evening,” he insisted.

  “Leonel—“

  “I’ll be at your house after work.”

  “But—“

  “I can’t be neglecting you,” he stated, smiling. “You’re too important to me.”

  “You don’t neglect me.”

  His finger flicked her cheek. “I can’t risk another man stealing you from me.”

  “Stop your jealousy.”

  “I can't help it.”

  "Stop."

  "I'll try."

  After he left, Valeria rushed into her classroom—a tight, painful knot in her stomach. Even when she was used to his small bouts of jealousy, this time she was completely unnerved. She hadn’t been prepared for Leonel and Lorenzo to be so aware of one another.