Coffee and Conclusions

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Coffee and Conclusions Page 22

by Emma Sterner-Radley


  Pulling the covers over her head, a barely awake Erin mumbled a reply, and Isabella couldn’t help but laugh. Erin’s comment, and how adorable she looked, momentarily trumped any anger or worry she had about her mother. Besides, it was amusing to hear her mother grind her teeth at the interruption.

  “Isabella? What was that?” Judith snapped.

  “That, Mother, was Erin. She was asleep until you so rudely woke us. She said she can keep up with me, as long as she hydrates. And that you should stop yelling, because you are giving her a headache.”

  “What? How dare she speak to me like that?”

  “Honestly, Mother? I cannot tell you how happy I am that she did. She’s usually much sweeter and more patient, so the fact that she reacted like that should tell you all you need to know about your behavior. It certainly tells me all I need to know. You are being vile and rude. And I agree with her. You should stop yelling. Especially as I’m not listening anymore.” Isabella hung up and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the menacing echo of her mother’s voice in her head.

  She looked over at the incredible woman next to her. Erin had clearly fallen back asleep. Her wheat-blonde hair was all over the pillow and tangled beyond belief. Isabella’s own fingers had done quite a lot of that tangling, and she vowed to help Erin with it later.

  Erin’s pink lips pouted a little in relaxation, and her breaths came slow and deep. It was calming to watch her. More than just calming, Isabella decided. It was heavenly.

  She reached out to touch Erin, careful not to wake her. She removed a few strands of hair from her beautiful face and traced her jawline to her chin. Her skin was so smooth. She caressed her cheek and watched a smile form. She wondered if her lover was aware of her touch or if she was dreaming.

  Part of her wanted to wake Erin, to see those clear, blue-green eyes looking back at her. But she wouldn’t be so selfish. Erin needed to sleep whenever her insomnia would allow.

  She snuck out of bed, picked up her robe, and went to Alberto’s room. He was still sleeping too, his own lovely blue-green eyes hidden from Isabella’s gaze, just as Erin’s were. She closed the door behind her and went to the kitchen, poured a glass of apple juice, and picked up the phone. She needed to talk to someone about her mother. And there was only one person who could relate—and who was always up and ready to chat in the morning. She dialed Marie’s number from memory and waited while sipping her juice.

  “Hello, beautiful sister. Isn’t it a gorgeous day? Sure, it’s a bit cloudy, but that can have its special beauty too. Look at that mesmerizing gray light!”

  Isabella rolled her eyes. “Hello, Marie. Yes, the cloudy, gray day is stunning,” she muttered.

  Marie ignored her comment, as she usually did when Isabella was sarcastic or rude. “It’s so nice to hear from you. How was your date last night? Tell me all the gossip.”

  “Last night was wonderful. Daddy babysat and said that everything went well. When Erin and I came back from the restaurant, we saw them playing airplane on the sofa, both giggling like mad. You should see them together, Marie. Daddy was made to be a grandfather.”

  Isabella felt downright blissful at the memory. Not only did that make her happy, but it would be wonderful for Alberto too. His grandfather would be a friend, a babysitter, and a male role model. And playing with his grandson would keep Daddy from sitting in his office, drinking scotch and re-reading Mark Twain. She drank some juice and remembered how happy they’d both looked last night.

  “Aww. That’s really great. I’m glad for the positive energy their bond brought to your home and the meaningful relationship they’ll have. But it’s not gossip. Get to the juicy bits. What happened between you and Erin?”

  Her glass went down on the table with a sharp thud. “Marie?”

  “Yes, honey pie?

  “Please tell me this isn’t going to get sexual again?”

  “Well.” Marie drew out the word like it had twelve syllables in it.

  Isabella frowned. “If it does, I am hanging up.”

  “Spoilsport. Fine. No sex. Just the lovey-dovey stuff. How did the talk about Erin taking over the gym go?”

  Isabella gave her a quick rundown of what had been said.

  “That all sounds really good. So, clearly, that’s not why you sound so negative.”

  Isabella sighed. “No. That is courtesy of Judith Martinez.”

  “What? Did she come to babysit last night too?”

  “No. But she came to pick him up. Which makes no sense. Daddy didn’t know when me and Erin would be back, so he drove over in the Jag. He left Mother the Mercedes, in case she wanted to go visit one of her horrible friends while he was away. Clearly, she decided to skip any visits and stalk me instead. And that was when she saw us kissing on the way back from the restaurant. She called me a little while ago to interrogate me.”

  Marie made a hissing sound, as if she was in pain.

  “Precisely.” Isabella ran a hand through her hair, resisting the urge to tug.

  “Well, I hate to tell you the positives, because I know you hate it when I see things from the bright side.”

  “But?” Isabella prompted.

  “At least it’s out now, and you don’t have to worry about how to tell her. And me and Alberto are off the hook.”

  Isabella felt her forehead furrow in confusion. She wished Marie had gotten into the habit of calling their parents something other than their first names. “I assume you mean Daddy, and not my Alberto?”

  “Yes, Alberto Sr,” Marie clarified. “Judith’s been convinced that you were hiding something, and a new partner was on the horizon. She also assumed you were hiding him because the man in question was somehow inappropriate. Neither of us said anything, Alberto because he didn’t know, and me because I’m the best sister in the world and would never do something like that.”

  Knowing how bad Marie was at keeping secrets, Isabella just rolled her eyes and finished her apple juice.

  “Apparently, she’s even discussed the matter with Rupert,” Marie added.

  Isabella’s attention came back in full force. “Rupert Claremont?”

  “Yes, silly. She doesn’t know any other Ruperts, does she? She told me that she talked it over with him in the office. I don’t know what she thought that would achieve. You know what he’s like, hard as nails and even more controlling than Judith. I mean, the man has a hole in his soul he just can’t fill, so he attacks others to keep them from seeing his emptiness. He really needs to do some work with his inner child and see why it lashes out like that. I could probably recommend…”

  “Can we stop psychoanalyzing Rupert and go back to why our mother is discussing my love life at work? And with that beast of a man, of all people?”

  “She was really upset that you were keeping secrets from her and that neither I nor Alberto seemed to care. She told me that she discussed it with him, because she needed advice on how to force you to tell her and stop you from dating someone else who’s ‘beneath you.’ Her words, not mine. Although I might have made a naughty joke about the choice of words when I spoke to Judith,” Marie admitted.

  “I’m sure she loved that.”

  “She threatened to cut me out of the will. Again. She really needs to let go and allow herself to be a sexual creature. Or embrace being asexual and thrive in that. We only get one life. It’s far too short not to have fun when you can. Besides, it can’t be good for her to be so uptight. I mean, just her colon alone is…”

  “Marie. Stop right there.”

  “Okay, fine. You get my point. Either way, she’s become obsessed—I’m talking level-twenty obsession here—with you dating someone. And how to stop you. I think she worries equally about you dating someone who doesn’t deserve you, and the Martinez fortune. She knows that you’ll cut ties like you did after she tried to break you and Richard up.”

&
nbsp; Isabella ran a hand over her face. “Do you think she ever considered talking to me. About trying to find a solution that works for everyone?”

  Marie snorted.

  The corners of Isabella’s lips tugged into a sardonic smile. She was just so tired of this. “Exactly.”

  “Look, unless you marry someone she thinks is right for you, like a doctor or a lawyer—preferably with a trust fund and a mansion to inherit—she’s always going to disapprove and meddle. If you’re serious about Erin, you’re just going to have to face Judith and deal with her.”

  “Or cut ties again.”

  “Yes. That’s always an option. But I thought you wanted to keep your father in your life? They’re a package deal, sweetie pie.”

  Isabella sighed. “I know. That’s the biggest problem.”

  “You need to talk to him.”

  “What’s the use? He worships the ground she walks on. He’s not going to fight her just to see me and Alberto behind her back.”

  “Isabella, he worships the ground you walk on too.”

  Isabella hummed noncommittally.

  “Look, just think about it. Anyway, I have to go. I have boogie-burst aerobics in fifteen minutes. It’s my first time. I’m so excited,” Marie said with an shrill squeal to prove her point.

  Isabella considered asking what the hell boogie-burst aerobics was, but decided she was happier not knowing. “Okay, hermanita. Thank you. I really needed to talk this over with you. Oh, and enjoy flailing about to boogie music.”

  “Thanks! And you go enjoy your girlfriend. Wait. Is, ahem…morning glory…a thing with lesbians?” Marie giggled like a schoolgirl, and Isabella shook her head at the sound.

  “Good-bye, Marie,” Isabella said before hanging up.

  She leaned back and listened. There was no sound from either of the bedrooms. She was still the only one awake. Marie’s suggestion to speak to their father tumbled through her mind. What would she say? Was there even a point in trying?

  Calling was a bad idea. Mother would probably take the phone or start yelling at him for speaking Spanish so she couldn’t understand.

  That eavesdropping witch.

  Isabella closed her eyes, letting memories wash over her of the years when she would get grounded for weeks on end for some minor offense perceived by her mother.

  She’d often spent those long hours in her room writing an entry in her diary or a letter to her father. When she left for school the next morning, she would slip it under the door to his office, and when she came home again, there would be a reply waiting for her on her bed. She could still see the beautiful, personalized stationary that he used, the embossed envelope, with the words mi vida in his sloppy handwriting. She’d felt so special. He took time out of his busy work day to reply to her on his best stationary. It had been their secret, and it had made her feel less alone. It had probably made him feel less alone, too.

  She would write him a letter.

  With her much-cheaper stationery, Isabella sat down at the kitchen table. Things became so much clearer when they were written down. Whether it was a note explaining her past to Erin or a letter explaining her future to her father, putting pen to paper helped her think clearly.

  She wrote more than a page before she stared at it in disgust. She was rambling and explaining things to him as if he were a child. This wouldn’t do.

  She started over and simply wrote:

  Dearest Daddy,

  I know Mother has been bothering you with questions about my love life. And I know she is probably running around the house throwing things and cursing my name right now. I’m sorry you have to be in the same house with her today.

  I would like to ask you to ignore that for a minute. To ignore her for a minute. Focus on yourself. Focus on how much fun you had with Alberto last night. Focus on the fact that with you retired and me working from home, we can finally spend as much time together as we want. The woman you love is threatening to take that away. For no other reason than her pathologic need for control.

  Daddy, I won’t let her meddle in my love life again. You remember what it was like last time. The screaming, the frosty stares, the guilt trips, trying to keep you away from me as a punishment. Cruel remarks, even trying to set me up with other men in front of Richard. Do you remember that?

  I can’t go through that again. I won’t subject Erin to that. If Mother doesn’t let me be with Erin without making us both miserable, then I’ll simply break all contact between her and me.

  Oh, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you what Erin means to me last night. I sort of left you to assume. I know that because she’s a woman you probably thought that we were just friends. But I also know that you read me like an open book and could probably see that we’re in love.

  I adore her, Daddy. With all my heart. No one has ever made me feel like she does, and I want to give her the world. I think you liked her last night, didn’t you? She made that joke about you and Alberto having the same haircut, and you wouldn’t stop laughing. She has great comic timing, doesn’t she?

  So what if she doesn’t have a fortune, or she isn’t a social climber with a huge paycheck? She is hardworking, funny, smart, loving, strong, and so very kind. Just like you. Get to know her, and I am sure you’ll love her.

  I don’t know what exactly I am asking you to do here. I don’t know if there is any way you can get Mother to calm down. Or if you would ever consider seeing me and Alberto even if I cut all ties with Mother. But I’m asking you to try and do something. I want you in my life, Daddy, but I need Erin. Please, don’t make me choose between you. Please.

  Te quiero,

  Isabella

  She addressed the envelope and slipped the letter inside. Her father usually picked up the post, so it should be safe from her mother’s clutches. She found a stamp and put the letter by the door to mail later.

  Chapter 26

  We Need to Talk About Alberto

  It was just after dinner, and Erin felt exhausted. She’d spent the day trying hard to be light and cheerful for Isabella, who’d played along dutifully. Ever since that call, Erin wanted to shake Isabella’s mother for the sadness she was causing her daughter.

  She finished her glass of water and listened to Isabella changing Alberto’s diaper. He cooed at her, and she answered in Spanish. Erin stretched to wake her tired muscles after their frenzied lovemaking the night before and grinned proudly. We must have invented some of those positions.

  Bored and missing Isabella’s presence, Erin walked into the bathroom as Isabella buttoned up Alberto’s onesie. She put her arms around Isabella’s waist and kissed her hair.

  Isabella leaned into her while tickling Alberto’s belly. He writhed and squealed. He was looking in her direction, as if he was looking for eye contact; so she looked into those green-blue eyes, so different than his mother’s, but strangely like her own.

  Suddenly her stomach flipped. He was looking at her. Right at her. As if he was waiting to see what she would do and say. As if he was hanging on her every word and action, ready to soak up her behavior like a sponge. Chill, Black, you’re imagining things. But her pulse quickened.

  She had a woman in her arms who was fighting with her mother because of her, and a baby looking to her to be his second parent. On top of that, she was about to own a gym she would have to learn how to run. If she failed at any one of those tasks, she’d let down Isabella, Alberto, and Chris. Three wonderful people who, for some reason, were depending on her. Her heart raced and her vision blurred.

  “Preciosa? Are you all right? I can feel your heart pounding like a jackhammer.”

  Her body gave up too many of her secrets. Erin moved away from Isabella.

  “What’s the matter?” Isabella asked with a worried frown. “You’re deathly pale.”

  “I’m okay. Just, dealing with stuff,” Erin kep
t looking at Alberto, who kept staring right into her eyes.

  Isabella looked from Erin to Alberto and then softly said, “I see. Would that ‘stuff’ happen to be my son?”

  “Huh? Why would you say that?”

  “You’re staring at him like he’s an object from outer space. I know you have concerns. Please, talk to me about them? Properly?”

  Unsure of how to say no, thank you to that, Erin just shrugged.

  She heard Isabella take a deep breath. “Remember how talking about your insomnia helped a little? Well, this is even more important for you to talk about. This concerns a human being who will always be part of your life when you’re with me. We’re going to end up having lots of talks about Alberto. Why not start with what’s worrying you?”

  Closing her eyes, Erin thought long and hard. Isabella was taking so much grief from her mother, and was worried about losing her father. The last thing she needed was to worry about what her girlfriend wasn’t telling her. Especially since she already knew it was about her son. There should be no secrets, no more holding back. If Isabella was prepared to deal with this whole nightmare with her parents over their relationship—she could probably deal with another Erin-has-baggage-and-freaks-out issue. She had to trust Isabella. Trust their relationship. She took a breath and tried to figure where to start.

  “I…never had parents. There were adults in my life, though. Some were a good influence and some weren’t. Sometimes they’d say things that stuck with me. Changed me. I watched and learned from them, good stuff…and bad.” She licked her lips, trying to find enough moisture to get the next words passed them. “If I’m part of Alberto’s life as he grows up, I’ll do that to him. I’ll…shape him. All my weirdness and dumb behavior, he’ll see that and pick it up.”

  Isabella looked like she was about to argue, but she closed her mouth again. She tilted her head and said, “Give me an example of something you might say or do and how you think it might influence him?”

 

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