“Hi, wanna join us? We’re playing Scattegories.” The girl was slightly smaller than me, petite and very fit with beautiful long, shiny dark hair.
“No, thank you. I’m just waiting for my sister to come out of practice.”
“They should be done soon. We saw them running laps just a few minutes ago. We’re from the other high school, waiting to practice on the field. My name is Betty Turner, and these are my friends from the track team.” Betty and I started talking and exchanged phone numbers after we discovered that we were wearing the exact same brand of watch.
On the way home in the car, Alicia casually mentioned, “Isa, guess who asked about you today?”
“Let me guess, Ali. Mrs. Martinez, who has been asking me to join the Glee Club. When will she finally get that I can’t sing?” I answered.
“No, not her! Jesse Cain asked about you again.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing, really. Asked why you came home, if you were going back to Canada, and if you ever planned on watching any of our games.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that you’re not really into sports!”
“Alicia! That’s not true! What do you call my riding?”
“Riding around on a horse all day isn’t really a sport.”
A few weeks had passed and life was uneventful. I was focused on spending time with Grace, and my mother was either sleeping a lot or out with her friends. There were daily fights and emotional screaming matches between her and her boyfriend. Nothing new. Same old routine again. I had taken to becoming the mother of the house, running the budget, giving instructions for Gracie, while my mother slept through it all. When she was awake and lucid, she was the best mother she could ever be. Loving and attentive, she always aimed to please her girls. But she was also moody and delusional, often telling us that she could spend all she wanted, knowing that her parents would bail her out of any financial bind. She also had a crying fit when she found out that my father’s new wife had given birth to a son.
One afternoon as I walked toward the school gates to wait for my ride, I saw a familiar figure standing by the entrance, his back turned toward me. I noticed him right away. It appeared that he was looking outside, waiting for someone. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. His gym bag was slung upon his shoulder as he leaned on the gate with one leg crossed over the other. Everything about him — his stance, his build, his hair, the back of his neck — was perfect. I walked straight past, trying my best not to brush against him as students swirled past the gates hurrying to get out of the school premises.
“Isabel.” That voice. Deep and raspy.
I kept walking until I felt his presence right behind me. He touched my shoulder and a million electric sparks coursed through my body.
“Isabel, please wait up,” he pleaded. “I was waiting for you to get out of class. I’ve been wanting to call you, but Alicia wouldn’t give me your phone number.”
Someone as good looking and popular as him is really asking for my phone number? Why would he want to call me?
My heart was beating in my chest, and I was suddenly nervous. He was just so unassuming, almost like he didn’t really know that he had it going on. A few high school girls shuffled past us, trying to get his attention. Each one had a ridiculously giddy smile painted on her face.
“What can I do for you, Jesse?” I asked. I was sincerely baffled as to what he would need from me.
He nodded his head at the swooning girls, his face blank and expressionless as he turned away from them to face me. “I was wondering if you’d like to go see a movie with me sometime.” He fidgeted with his hair, brushing it back repeatedly with his hand.
“Sure,” I answered. “Just give me a call and we’ll plan something.” I reached for my pen, wrote my number down, and handed him a torn piece of paper. “See ya!”
My phone rang just minutes after I arrived home that afternoon.
“Hi, Isabel, it’s Jesse. Do you think you can go out tonight? Maybe just for coffee?” he inquired nervously.
“Sorry, Jesse. I’m really tired today. Can we do this some other time?” I answered as I glanced around the living room to see whether my mother was home.
“Sure. How’s everything? How has your first month back been?” Just the way he sounded made me feel like I was talking to an old friend.
“It’s been going well. I feel like I have so much to catch up on for school,” I responded.
“I know what you mean. Do you have plans of returning to Canada anytime soon?” His tone was cautious as he asked me this.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I lied. “It depends on what happens to me this year,” I continued.
“Give it a chance, Isabel. I’m sure you’ll love it here. I’ll make sure you do,” he said, slowly and deliberately.
I think I might get used to this guy.
We talked for an hour that night. Many awkward periods of silence characterized our conversation. It seemed like all he wanted to do was pepper me with questions. I did learn that he came from a family of four children and about his love for the game of baseball. He spoke about having to coach part time to earn some extra money for college. I found out that not only was he on the varsity baseball team, but he was also Student Council President of his school. Finally, we spoke about his plans to attend a local college in the city. It was nice to have a new friend, and for no other reason than that, I enjoyed our telephone conversation that night.
A week later, Jesse asked me if I wanted to watch him play baseball in a home game at his high school. I didn’t really have any weekend plans, so I asked Betty to come to the game with me. Betty was actually dating a popular model who wasn’t exactly in good graces with her parents. She jumped at the opportunity to have him meet us at the game. That afternoon, we made sure to arrive fashionably late and cut through the side of the field to get to the stands while the game was in progress.
“Whoa, Isabel, you didn’t tell me that he was the team’s pitcher!” Betty exclaimed under her breath.
“I didn’t know,” I replied, my eyes focused on the beautiful boy standing on the pitcher’s mound fiddling with his cap and looking around the stands. He saw me and smiled. I had never been so interested in a sport in my entire life.
I didn’t really know what to do after the game ended that afternoon. Should I get up and walk over to Jesse while he’s surrounded by a group of cheerleaders? Or should I leave and see whether he chases me across the field? Betty made that decision for me as her boyfriend Leigh and a friend walked up the stands toward us. As I looked up to see Leigh’s friend’s eyes focused on me, I actually glanced down to avoid a stare down. He had short, blond, spiky hair, dark blue eyes and day-old stubble on his chin. Alluringly full lips on a perfectly squared jaw. While Jesse was less muscular but athletically built, this guy’s body was defined in all the right places. His clothes were impeccably put together.
“Isabel, this is Leigh’s friend, Alex Ailey. Leigh thinks we should go and get something to eat before we drop you back off at home,” Betty said in her sexy, breathy tone as she grabbed hold of Leigh’s hand.
“Isabel, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I see you a lot at the Club.” His smile seemed real and genuine, and he had gorgeous eyes. I glanced over to the dugout. Jesse was no longer there. I didn’t know whether I was disappointed that he didn’t seek me out or relieved that I wouldn’t have to see him that day.
“Sure, where were you guys thinking of going?” I asked, a little distracted by the way the friend was looking at me.
“Let’s just get out of here and wing it,” said Alex, as he winked at me.
We walked down the stairs and headed out to the parking lot. I had a good time just getting to know both Leigh and Alex. It was nice to see Betty interact with Leigh. He was much older and very protective over her. Alex, on the other hand, was just easy to get along with. He was three years older than me, e
ducated abroad and traveled back and forth during his school breaks. I knew we would fall into a friendship after our first meeting.
“So Alex, how do we know each other?” I asked inquisitively. Although he said he knew me, I was certain I would remember a face like that if we had met in the past. “Did you just move here?” I continued my query.
“My dad was an expat working for Philip Morris 20 years ago. We transferred here from the U.S. and never left. He loved it here, the people, the culture, the life. He decided to set up his business here.”
“Ahh. An Amboy.” Our slang for American Boy. “And you’re at the Polo Club often?”
He laughed at my earlier statement. “I used to see you there when you were younger, with your stepbrother, John. He was a year older than me at the International School. He told me that you left to study abroad.”
“And how do you know Leigh?”
“Leigh and I have been friends since grade school. When he told me he was going to meet up with Betty and her friend, I knew who you were as soon as I heard your name. You’re pretty popular at the Club, Isabel.”
“Me? No way. I normally keep to myself when I’m out there. You must be referring to someone else.”
“No, I’m not. You’re not easy to forget, Isabel Amarra.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Later on that evening, I arrived home to three missed calls from Jesse.
“Hi Isabel, where’d you run off to after the game?” Jesse asked as soon as I answered my phone. If he was upset that I had left, there was no indication of that at all in his voice.
“Oh, I went out for a bite to eat with Betty and her boyfriend,” I answered tentatively, not knowing where this was going to lead.
“I tried to find you after taking a shower and you were gone!”
He laughed lightheartedly.
“Sorry about that. I wasn’t sure whether you had intended for me to wait. Great game, by the way.” I shrugged my shoulders, assuming it was a good game because they had won.
“That’s okay, Isabel. I’m glad you enjoyed the game.”
The next few weeks were spent watching any baseball game I could catch on TV after school and in the evenings. Jesse invited me to another home game shortly after that. This time, I went without Betty and sat in the stands to wait for him after the game. It was another win for his team, with Jesse batting the tie-breaking home run. There seemed to be the same set of girls who were waiting for him at the end of this match as well. This time, Jesse spoke with them briefly and then ran up the stands, two steps at a time, to catch me before I had a chance to leave.
“Isabel, don’t leave, okay? I’m going to take a shower and will be right back in ten minutes. I’d like to be the one to take you home this afternoon.”
I gave him a smile and nodded. As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but stare at his backside. Despite the loosely hanging jersey, the ridges of his back muscles and arms showed through its material. His baseball pants showcased the tightest and most well-built set of thighs and legs I had ever seen.
Sure enough, he showed up in less than ten minutes, his hair dripping wet and smelling like sweet licorice. He took my hand and we walked toward his car. Somewhere along the way, another group of girls called out his name and he waved at them. I pulled my hand away, embarrassed to be infringing on what could be someone else’s turf.
Jesse’s calls continued every night after that last game. He would wait for me outside school on the days that he coached. We only spoke for a few minutes each time because Evie and Alicia needed a ride back to my father’s house. With school, coaching, his student council activities and his games, there wasn’t really much room for me. Not that I was looking for anything, really. Those reliable phone calls did ease my loneliness every night after having dinner all alone or while waiting for my mother to come home.
His calls would come late at night after I had gotten ready for bed. I would cradle the phone by my ear and wait for it to ring.
“Hi, it’s Jesse,” he would start out.
“Hi,” I would say. My eyes closed, big smile on my face.
“How was your day? Sorry it’s so late, just got out of practice.” He always spoke in a hushed tone, and I wondered whether there were other people in the room with him.
“That’s all right. Mine was good. My mom’s not home yet, so I’m kinda dozing on and off. Rode for an hour today then came home to study for my Chem test. How about you?”
“Studied a bit before practice. Practiced. That’s pretty much it ... so tell me what you reviewed for Chem.” He chuckled.
“Hmm, I’m so tired, I don’t even know anymore.” I giggled.
“Is it obvious that I’m just trying to keep you on the phone a little longer? I love the sound of your voice. Let me keep you company till your mom gets home,” he whispered.
Training for the equestrian events going on at the club was taking most of my free time after school. Pepe and I had just begun to build such a good chemistry that I won blue ribbons in many competitions that year. Betty and I also went out with Leigh and his friends. They were a fun bunch, and most of the time we were at one of their houses playing Scattegories and other board games. Once in a while, Betty would tell me that so-and-so was interested in me. I think that although I didn’t admit it at that time, I was really saving myself for Jesse.
One day after one of his games, he picked me up from the stands and introduced me to his mother. The way that he said my last name made her look straight at me with a sharp look of concern.
“You’re Claudia Holtzer’s daughter?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Mom, I invited Isabel over for dinner after the game.” I kept my stare on him, refusing to glance over to see his mother’s reaction. I remembered the fights I caused in grade school trying to defend Alicia against the nasty rumors that were being spread about my mother.
“Of course, Jesse. Isabel, it would be great if you could join us for dinner,” she said warmly and without hesitation.
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Cain. Thank you for inviting me.”
Mrs. Cain insisted I ride back with her while Jesse drove separately in his car.
“Isabel, how is your mother? I knew her from my high school days. I used to see her at parties and would read about her in the society pages. Your mother is beautiful, and you look just like her.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cain. She’s doing well. She’s really busy with her dress shop and Grace is occupying most of her time these days.”
“Ah, yes, your youngest sister. I hear that she is growing up to be a healthy little girl.”
Where in the world were these people getting all their intel on my family?
We finally arrived at Jesse’s house. The car pulled into a tiny one-car garage that had a tall set of stairs leading to the back of the house. Jesse ran toward the car to make sure he was the one to lead me inside. We followed his mother as she opened the door to us. There was such a welcoming vibe in his home that I immediately started to relax. The structural layout was long and narrow, quite small and compact. The kitchen, dining room and living room all shared the same space, and my first thought was that the area was smaller than my mother’s bedroom. Jesse excitedly pulled me up the stairs to meet his brothers and sisters. He shared a bedroom with three younger siblings and they all had smiles on their faces as he introduced me to each one of them.
Jesse’s father was a stern military man who expected nothing but the best from his children. His mother was meek and quiet in front of his father, something I did not expect when I met her earlier at the game. The first dinner I had with his family felt more like an interrogation, but that was understandable. His father gushed about my grandfather being a self-made man, talked about his businesses, wanted to know whether I was planning to work for my grandfather when I graduated. Jesse was a bit embarrassed by all the questions, but he just held my hand and smile
d at me throughout the conversation. The atmosphere was warm and inviting and they were genuinely happy to meet me. His sisters were a bit on the shy side, but I could tell that they truly adored their older brother.
That dinner with his family was the first of many dinners we shared through the years that Jesse and I were together. Jesse’s father and I would share a closeness that I never had with my own father. We also spent many nights at the table talking about my family, my sisters and my parents. His father showed an unaffected interest in me and my plans for the future. He quickly erased all of my reservations about my mother’s reputation and how that might influence his perception of me. Those times were precious to me, and to this day, I think of him with so much fondness in my heart.
Meanwhile, Alex and I developed a friendship that was comfortable and easy, due to the fact that I was at the Polo Club most days after school. He was funny about calling me randomly, and we would go back and forth with an easy banter. It was nice having someone who was a part of the group that I used to hang out with when I was younger. Sometimes at night, my phone would ring and it would be him with silly one-minute updates:
“Hello?”
“Hi Isabel, it’s me, Alex. Just wanted to let you know that Lizzy didn’t clear that last jump at today’s event. I saw how you killed it the other day. Great job!”
“You saw me? Where were you?”
“Watching you.”
“Shut up.”
“First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.”
—George Bernard Shaw
Three months after we met, Jesse and I finally went to see a movie.
We held hands as he led me through the dark theater and walked me up to the very last row right below the projector. The movie house wasn’t full, but I was so nervous, I didn’t really care where we sat. Ten minutes into the movie, I turned my face to see him staring right at me. I was mesmerized by his nearness. Even in the dark, I could make out his features, but I was afraid to look right at him. He held my face and brushed his thumb across my cheek. He then leaned his head further down and nuzzled my neck.
The Light in the Wound Page 4