Chapter Six
“Ay, Mami, por favor, no seas así
,” Julia said, struggling to keep the whine and the frustration from her voice.
If not, her mother would ignore her plea to stop acting this way. Unfortunately, Paula Fernandez was the queen of passive aggressive behavior. Especially when she was on a roll.
Like she was now.
A heavy sigh blew through the cell speaker at Julia’s ear and she rolled her eyes. Immediately giving thanks her mother couldn’t see her.
“Am I not supposed to be hurt that my only daughter is not home for the holidays?” her mother steamrolled on. “That when I ask when she will return to celebrate Las Navi-dades
with her papi, hermanos,
and me, to help with the cooking and preparations, she will not answer me?”
Reproach dripped from Mami’s words. Each one a tiny pinprick of guilt to Julia’s heart.
“Who will I rely on when the catering orders come in?”
“Allegra is there,” Julia answered. “She does a better job at being your right hand than I do.”
“Ha!” her mother scoffed. “Esa nena no sabe
.”
“Yes, she does know, Mami. More than you give her credit for.”
In fact, her older cousin had been getting her hands messy in the kitchen several years before Julia had been allowed to even step inside.
“She’s too much like her mother, and you know I can only take so much of your Tía Sonia. Why my brother had to marry that woman . . . ay
, do not get me started.”
Too late. The litany of woes had begun.
Complaints about her sister-in-law, a recent issue with bookkeeping for the business, a new recipe she wanted to try but hadn’t found the time because she was short a helper . . .
Julia rubbed her temple, desperate to ease the pounding slowly increasing in her forehead.
“Mami, me tengo que ir,”
she interjected, when her mom finally stopped for a breath.
“What do you mean you have to go? We have barely talked.”
Correction, Julia had barely talked. As for Mami, her guilt trip was flying first class.
“I told you, I’m at the Taylors’ for a post-Thanksgiving dinner party. It’s rude of me to have disappeared this long already.”
“Bueno
, you should not be disrespectful. I will let you go.”
Julia let out a heavy sigh, quickly pulling the phone away from her face so her mother wouldn’t hear. The woman had the ears of a bat, capable of picking up the slightest sound. Especially one you didn’t want her to catch.
“Gracias, Mami. Adio
—”
“Wait!” Her mother’s cry stalled Julia’s good-bye.
“¿Sí?
” she asked, taken aback by the urgency in her mami’s plea.
“When I called to check on Rosa, she mentioned your big fiesta to raise the money for the children is in two weeks. After that, your work there will be done, no
?”
Julia’s knees buckled under the weight of parental expectations and she sank onto one of the leather love seats. Elbow bent on the armrest, she cradled her forehead in her palm, Lili’s cell phone pressed to her ear.
“¿Hola, nena? ¿Estás allí?
”
“Yes, I’m here,” Julia answered, like the obedient child she had always been. Until now.
Her heart pounding, she gazed into the fireplace. The flames danced and teased, suffocating the pieces of wood in the same way she felt her life being suffocated by the plans her mami and papi had mapped out for her.
“I’m—I’m not sure. There may be something more for me to do here.”
Another heavy sigh came through the line.
“Bueno, cuídate nena. Te quiero
.”
“You take care, too, Mami. And, you know I love you, too, right?”
“Sí
. I do.”
On her mami’s melancholy words, the call disconnected.
Julia dropped her head into her hands, hunched over, engulfed by the guilt of keeping her true intentions from her mom. Yet, disappointed and keenly frustrated that those closest to her couldn’t understand or see how her dreams differed from theirs.
* * *
Ben eased his way down the hallway leading to the library, straining to hear any hint of conversation. If Julia was still on the phone, he’d turn around and go back.
Twenty minutes had passed already and his unease hadn’t quieted. Not when he couldn’t stop picturing the worry that had knit Julia’s brow earlier.
Then again, a twenty-minute chat between Julia and her mom might be the norm. Simply because his parental phone calls were the epitome of a quick three-pitch strikeout didn’t mean hers weren’t more along the lines of a batter knocking off foul ball after foul ball, making you throw a slew of pitches to get the guy out.
Ben paused at the library door, unwilling to interrupt her. Silence greeted him.
Cautiously leaning against the wood frame, he peeked inside. As soon as he saw Julia, shoulders hunched, palms covering her face, he hurried over to her side.
The heels of his wing-tip shoes slapped the tile floor with each step. She didn’t even seem to notice.
“Hey,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her.
She glanced up, dejection blanketing her delicate features.
“Hey,” she answered.
The edges of her wide mouth quivered, as if trying to smile, but finding the effort too difficult.
Ben sat down beside her, the need to comfort her driving him to wrap an arm around her delicate shoulders.
“You doing okay?” he asked, half expecting her to pull away.
Over the past few weeks she had started to relax in his company, greeting him with a brush of their cheeks rather than an impersonal handshake. But the demonstrative manner she shared with the kids during rehearsal—an encouraging hand on a shoulder, a playful hair fluff for Bernardo, warm hugs hello and good-bye for all—had not been extended to him.
Not until she had reached for his hand out in the hallway earlier. He hoped that was a sign of progress.
“I’ve been better,” she answered.
“Care to talk about it?”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh so heavy it seeped into him, forging his desire to soothe whatever pained her.
“It’s not easy trying to figure out how to balance love and commitment to your family with your own goals and dreams. You know?” she said.
Actually, he didn’t know. His parents had never held any strong expectations for him other than that he do well in school and find an area where he excelled. Sure, they’d probably thought it would be in academia, but they hadn’t balked at his choices. They’d been too wrapped up in their own research and studies.
But he’d spent enough time at Octavio’s house to understand the pull a person’s family could have on them. The compulsion to make them proud, to give them your best. To remain loyal.
It’s what Ben had found with baseball and his teammates. It’s what he missed.
“Well, I may not know your family, but in the time we’ve spent together, there’s definitely one thing I know about you.”
Julia slid sideways on the leather sofa cushion, angling to face him.
His arm slid off her shoulder, falling at her side to rest near her hip.
She stared up at him. A mix of doubt, sadness, and hope swam in the depths of her hazel eyes.
“You care about those around you,” he continued. “And you give one hundred percent to your commitments. I bet your parents would be proud of the work you’re doing here.”
She ducked her chin, giving a slight shake of her head. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. If they raised you, they’re good people.”
“Yeah, they are.”
“That means even if they don’t understand what you need to do for yourself right now, eventually they will. In the long run, I’m betting they only want you to be happy.”
A beat of silence passed, then she covered his hand with hers on the sofa cushion. The warmth of her palm matched the warmth in the sweet smile she gifted him with when she gazed up at him.
“Gracias
,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For calming the crazy thoughts salsa dancing in my head.” Her gentle laugh held a note of self-deprecation.
“Anytime,” he answered, smiling back. “Though, you should know, I can also hold my own on the salsa dance floor. In case you were wondering.”
Julia threw back her head and laughed. The rich sound tugged at his desire for her, enticing and strong.
“I’ll have to verify that sometime,” she teased.
He sure hoped so.
Her cheeks brightened with laughter, the gloomy melancholy that had weighed her down moments ago dissipated.
Ben grinned back at her, pleased to have helped lighten her mood.
“Bueno
, I guess we should head outside, huh?” Julia rose to stand next to the ottoman.
She surprised him once again by holding out her hand to him.
Not one to miss an opportunity, Ben placed his hand in hers. The smoothness of her palm pressed against his as she gently tightened her grasp.
When they reached the doorway, Ben drew to a halt.
Now or never. Once they returned to the group, who knew if he’d have a moment alone with her again.
“Before we go back to the party, I have a quick proposition for you,” he said.
Julia glanced up at him, curiosity arching one of her brows. “Oh really? And what might that be?”
The soft sound of the holiday tune “Blue Christmas” drifted down the hallway from the living room. An appropriate song for how he’d feel should she continue to keep him at an arm’s distance.
“I was thinking we could cross something off your bucket list this weekend. If you’re up for it.”
She angled her head in question, lips curved in a playful smirk as she gave him a narrow-eyed once-over. “That sounds more like a challenge if you ask me.”
“If it were, would that encourage you to say yes?”
Her smirk blossomed on a husky chuckle that called out to the loneliness he kept hidden.
“In my house, with my three competitive brothers, you never back away from a challenge. So, what are you throwing down?” she asked.
The way she jutted her chin with confidence, her other hand balled in a fist on her slender hip, had his pulse quickening.
“I’m thinking you, me, a private ice-skating session after the rink closes to the public. What do you say? Are you up for it?”