Lonely Heart

by M.J. Kane

  My mind drifted back to the mental to-do list. A corner in my closet was filled with diapers of various sizes. I took advantage of every coupon and sale I could find. Once the crib was in my room, there would be no space for a changing table. A portion of my dresser would be used for baby wash, lotions, and creams. Though I planned to breastfeed, baby bottles occupied space in the kitchen cabinets. The transition would be made once I went back to work.

  The idea of breastfeeding made me nervous. After educating myself on the benefits for my baby through pamphlets my doctor gave me, I was determined to make it work. Yasmine and I made a breastfeeding pact. By the time she gave birth; I would be experienced enough to walk her through it.

  “Kaity, are you okay?”

  Disoriented, I jumped. “What?”

  Antonio stood in front of me, concern etched on his face.

  “Is she okay?” A female voice floated over his shoulder.

  My vision blurry, I blinked.

  “Adrianna, go get her some water.” He dug into his pocket and gave the woman beside him a handful of change. “Kaity, look at me.”

  My hands went to my temples as I leaned forward; my head was spinning. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “Here, Antonio.”

  He reached for the bottle, twisted off the cap, and moved it to my mouth.

  “I can do it myself.” God, that was crass. “Sorry, thanks.” The bottle went in my mouth before I said something else stupid.

  “Are you alone?” Antonio stood, surveyed the laundromat. “Where’s Tiffany?”

  “At work.” A shot of pain went to my left temple behind my eye. I reached for the spot and massaged.

  Antonio said something in Spanish. By the look on his face, it must have been the curse words his grandmother complained about.

  “How far along are you?” The woman who stood beside him asked.

  I tempered my annoyance. “A little over seven months. I’m fine, really. Thanks.” Antonio hindered my attempt to stand by squatting down in front of me.

  “No, don’t move. Sit for a while longer. I’m staying with you.”

  “I’m fine.” I squirmed in my seat as his eyes ran over me from head to toe.

  “Your eyes are bloodshot and your face is flushed. You’re not moving.”

  I sighed and dug into my purse for a bottle of Tylenol. “Thanks for the water,” I mumbled. My eyes shot back to the woman standing beside him.

  Antonio glanced over his shoulder. “Kaity, this is my sister, Adrianna. Adrianna, this is Kaity. She lives across the hall from Abuela.”

  “That’s why she looks familiar.” She held out her hand.

  I accepted the gesture.

  “Mamá!”

  Our attention went to the other side of the laundromat where the little boy jumped up and down.

  “Julio, I’m coming!” She turned back to me. “It was nice to meet you.”

  Antonio studied me. “Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to call your sister?”

  “I’ll be okay as soon as the Tylenol kicks in. It’s preeclampsia; no big deal.” I waved my hand in dismissal.

  “High blood pressure during pregnancy is nothing to play with.” His voice stern, Antonio rose from the floor and pulled a vacant seat in front of me. “Elevate your feet, it will help.”

  I did as directed, all the while studying him.

  “Adrianna, remember?” He pulled an additional seat beside me and sat down. “There was no one to really help her through. I pretty much went to every doctor’s appointment and Lamaze class.”

  Unable to contain it, I laughed, which caused my head to hurt more. “You’re kiddin’ right?”

  “No. What’s so funny?”

  “You’re her brother…Lamaze? I know fathers who avoid those classes like the plague.” A prime example, Luke.

  “That’s a shame. But like I said; her boyfriend was in jail at the time. Our abuela...excuse me, grandmother, was unavailable, which left me.” He shrugged. “It was an eye opening experience.”

  “Were you there when your nephew was born?”

  “My abuela and sisters handled that department.” He chuckled. “There are just some things a brother doesn’t want to see, if you get my drift.”

  “Ow…” The throbbing in my temple subsided, but spiked every time I laughed or smiled.

  A set of strong hands began massaging my neck. I stiffened.

  “Sorry. There’s a nerve at the base of your neck that alleviates pressure. May I?”

  I started to say no. Luke had been the last man to touch me.

  “It will only take a few minutes.” The expression on Antonio’s face was sincere.

  In need of the relief, I nodded. He adjusted his seat and went to work in silence. It wasn’t long before the pressure in my head subsided even further.

  “Better?” he asked after a few minutes.

  “Yes, thanks.” He stopped; I wished the massage lasted longer.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned his seat back around; we sat in awkward silence.

  My attention went to the dryers as they slowed down. I moved to get up.

  “Let me. What numbers?”

  I started to protest, but a wave of nausea hit me, forcing me to stay put. “Numbers nine and ten.”

  He pulled up a cart, unloaded my clothes, and wheeled them over.

  “Thanks.” Instead of rejoining his family on the other side of the laundry mat, Antonio sat down again, watching me fold. I spied a pair of my pregnancy panties which were two sizes larger than my normal size. Talk about self-conscious. “Are those your twin sisters?”

  His attention averted, he smiled. “Carmen and Catalina, age fourteen and a hand full. Sometimes I feel like a father instead of a brother.”

  I remembered what he said about his mother dying while giving birth.

  Every time I considered going into labor, it scared me. “Do you guys always come to the laundromat together?”

  He smiled. “It’s almost tradition. My father knows nothing about washing clothes. Abuela taught me and Adrianna how after our mother died. We made the twins help out as they got older. Since we moved out, it’s a good excuse for us to get together once a week.”

  “Wish I had family like that,” I mumbled, focusing on the shirt in my hand.

  Antonio inclined his head. “You don’t have nice things to say about your family. My guess is you don’t like them?”

  A cynical laugh escaped my lips. “Like is a strong word. I like and love my brothers and sister. My parents…that’s a different and complex story.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Trust me, it’s not interestin’.”

  “Kaity, we’re in a laundromat, there’s nothing else to do but talk. Them,” he pointed to his family, “…I know. You, I don’t. You’re interesting. Plus, I like the way you talk.”

  I laughed. “You mean my country accent.”

  “Yes, and I like your laugh.”

  Chapter 11

  Kaitlyn stared at me. “You’re kiddin’, right?”

  “About what?” My grin spread as her green eyes widened, then narrowed.

  “You like my laugh?” She shook her head, then turned her attention back to the unfolded clothes. “You don’t even know me. Lord knows I haven’t laughed a lot around you.”

  “True, but you have laugh lines in the corners of your eyes and cheeks when you smile. They didn’t get there by accident.”

  Jade green orbs met mine while her hand rested on her cheek.

  “But that’s another subject. Tell me about your family.” The metal chairs weren’t comfortable, but with a little adjustment, I settled in. My arms crossed, I waited for her reply.

  Kaitlyn studied me from the corner of her eye, then focused on her clothes again. “Have you ever felt unwanted, like bein’ born was a mistake?”

  “No.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Welco
me to my world. My father only wanted sons, and my mother fought a losing battle with depression. I’m not sure if it came from my father not bein’ happy because she had daughters or if it was a chemical imbalance. Either way, it didn’t lead to a happy home.”

  I tried to imagine that type of upbringing in my family; it was impossible. The only issue we had experienced was the death of my mother. “Your father honestly didn’t want you?”

  “Nope. My parents have a farm. We mostly grew vegetables and fruit. We also had goats and chickens. The work wasn’t that hard, but Daddy felt girls wouldn’t work hard enough. He wanted boys to toughen up like his daddy did with him and get the job done.” She paused, reached for another shirt. “I wonder…if I wasn’t the first born, but second or third, would it have made a difference? Bein’ the first sets the standard, you know?”

  “I guess it does, though in my family, it’s hard to tell. Everyone after me was female. That made me the special one in my family.”

  Her smile was brief. “Well, in my family, it toughened me up. My father treated me more like a boy than a girl. No kind words or special treatment. If he couldn’t get what he wanted genetically, then he made me do it anyway.”

  Kaitlyn stood a mere five-foot-four to my six-foot frame. I could imagine her feeding chickens.

  “I was three-years-old when my first brother, Bailey Jr. came along. Justin came five years later. My father seemed satisfied with his allotment of sons, so when Tiffany came a few years later, he wasn’t as angry. It didn’t change the way he treated her, though. Bein’ the oldest female, I got the brunt of it. Once Bailey was old enough, he started treatin’ him like a man and backed off of me.” Her expression went solemn from what I guessed were unwanted memories.

  “Your mother never stood up for you?”

  “Not really. My father has a very dominant personality and my mother was timid. He wasn’t abusive, don’t get me wrong. It didn’t help that she had issues with depression. A lot of times, I was on my own. By the time I reached middle school, she managed to talk him into lettin’ me join the drama club. Talk about surprised. I guess he figured it was better than lookin’ at me all day, you know, out of sight, out of mind? I used the opportunity to my advantage and earned scholarships for Theater. I got accepted at U.C.L.A., graduated high school, then caught the first bus out of Texas. I haven’t been back since.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.” She paused. “My only regret was leavin’ Tiffany behind. But, she’s here now and things are workin’ out.” She pursed her lips. “Then again, this is Tiffany. She hasn’t had time to get in trouble yet.”

  I smiled, remembering the verbal dispute between them in my truck.

  Though she had endured a troubled childhood, Kaity appeared to have found some sort of stability. She drove a nice car and lived in a nice apartment. Her pregnancy meant at some point she had been in a relationship that meant something.

  Listening to her story only interested me more.

  “So you’re from Texas. That’s a long way from here. What did you study in college?”

  “Theater.”

  “You went to school to be an actress?”

  She smiled. “Not really. Actin’ was a great way to escape not bein’ happy at home. I preferred workin’ in the costume department, which is what I focused on when I was in college. Back home, I dreamed of moving to L.A. and workin’ in Hollywood. Now I do.” A smile of satisfaction brightened her features and the laugh lines returned.

  “Really? What do you do?”

  “I am Assistant Costume ─” she laughed. “Correction, I was Assistant Costume Designer for the show, Just How She Likes It.”

  I heard of that show, it was one of Adrianna’s favorites. “Was?”

  She glanced at me. “Not anymore. I’m now Head Costume Designer for a new show that will start taping in a few months. Sorry, can’t tell you what it is yet…contract.” She pantomimed a lock and key over her mouth.

  I nodded, then smiled in awe.

  “What?” She moved a strand of fallen blond hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear.

  Distracted by the movement, I cleared my throat. “You’ve reached your goal. You should be proud.”

  “Yeah, I have, and I love it, wouldn’t change it for the world. Though I have to admit, the last few months have taught me there’s more to life than gettin’ your dream job.”

  “True. What does that mean to you?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Bein’ able to find happiness in my personal life.” She stopped folding clothes and placed both hands on her stomach. Her eyes lit up as her hand moved. “Whoa, somebody’s awake now.”

  My attention went to where her hands lay on her belly. The miracle within pushed her hand up and down. I remembered feeling my nephew moving in my sister’s stomach. I joked saying her son would be destined to become an Olympic athlete.

  My sisters’ laughter drew my attention. Julio once again made his best attempt at a handstand.

  Children were a blessing. His dad didn’t know what he missed.

  My attention went back to Kaitlyn, curiosity getting the best of me. “Where’s the father?”

  Kaitlyn’s eyes shot me. “Excuse me?”

  Like it was any of my business. “I wasn’t trying to pry. You mentioned it was just you and the baby that day at the shop.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Her lips tightened. “It seems a happy family life isn’t meant for me, at least not in the traditional sense.” She shrugged. “My goal is to be a good mother.”

  She didn’t seem as though she would answer the question, so I let it go. “It sounds like you have a good shot. Since your sister is here, you’ve got family again.”

  “I know, and two best friends to rely on, well, when they are available. Oh, speakin’ of which, I gave them your number, to the shop that is.”

  “Thanks. Word of mouth is always the best form of advertisement.”

  “Especially when the service is good. You went above and beyond with me, Antonio. I don’t know if you felt guilty for makin’ me carless or because I’m pregnant.”

  I laughed. “A bit of both.”

  Kaitlyn returned my smile. “Either way, I appreciate it.” Finished with her clothes, she gathered her purse.

  It appeared she felt better. Her eyes were no longer red and her cheeks had regained their normal creamy complexion.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to get behind the wheel? I can drive your car and have my sister follow.”

  “Oh no, Antonio, you have done enough. I’m fine now.” She stood and seemed to be okay.

  “At least let me carry your baskets to your car. Just promise you’ll leave them for Tiffany to haul in when she gets home.”

  “Yes, Doctor.” Those soft lines formed around her eyes again as she laughed.

  Satisfied with her response, I gathered the baskets and followed her outside. She unlocked the back door, holding it open while I slid them in. I, in turn, held the driver’s side door as she got behind the steering wheel and strapped in.

  “Be careful.” A part of me wanted to ask her to call the minute she reached her apartment. Though I’d gotten to know more about her, I had no right to demand she do.

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Trust me, if I wasn’t comfortable with drivin’, I’d ask you to take me home. I’m independent, not stupid.”

  I chuckled. “I’ll see you around. Don’t forget…call me if you need me.”

  Kaitlyn studied me. “I will. Bye, Antonio.”

  I watched as she drove off. Not ready to go back inside, I leaned against the column of the building, stuffed my hands in my pockets. My fingers grazed the packet of gum so I popped a piece in my mouth.

  Kaity.

  Pretty. Interesting. Entertaining.

  Single.

  Pregnant.

  Baggage.

  I rubbed my eyes. H
ow could she be more interesting than Gina, a woman I’d known for years who was single, sexy, and childless?

  And no longer held my attention.

  “Tio, Tio!” Julio ran in my direction. I squatted down and opened my arms to catch the thirty pound ball of flying nephew. I stood, tossed him over my back, and spun around. Laughter and shrieks filled the air.

  Family. Some people just didn’t know what they were missing.

  Chapter 12

  “Your brothers are complete assholes.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know, Antonio,” Fernando replied. His attention waning, he nearly dropped the spot light.

  “Hey, move it over to the left.” I leaned further into the wide cavity of the nineteen-seventy Chevy Chevelle SS. The project car was my baby, a gift from my uncle who understood my love of old school American muscle. I worked on it as often as possible. Thankfully, Tio didn’t mind me storing it in an unused bay of the garage. My desire to complete the project was a labor of love, one of the few dreams I could make happen.

  If I couldn’t open my own shop, then this would suffice.

  “Let me get this straight, your brothers said they weren’t going to help you get a job, you’re on your own. Does that mean you’re ready to grow a pair and do your own thing?” I grunted; the rusted fuel line seemed fused in place. Age old rust broke off in my hand. I dusted my hands off on my overalls while reevaluating my approach. “I mean, Fernando, you’re twenty-five.”

  “And my brothers still treat me like we’re kids. I’m tired of it.”

  I laughed. “You weren’t complaining back then, spoiled brat. I don’t understand how your father let you guys get like that.”

  We both looked at each other. “Madre,” we said in unison.

  “Papi always let her have her way. I swear she’s got him by the short hairs.”

  “And he takes it out on everyone else at the shop.” We both looked around, hoping my uncle was not in hearing range, then laughed. “Where is the old man, anyway?”