Chapter Twelve
Tomás sat in a dining chair he’d dragged into the Fernandez living room, eyeing the interplay between Yaz and her friend from New York. The life she couldn’t wait to return to. Jealousy tinged his vision.
“Jeremy is one of the few sane people I know in the City,” she said, clinking her mug of hot chocolate against her friend’s.
“Probably because I’m not in the entertainment business.”
The guy’s response earned him a smack on the knee from Yaz.
Their easy camaraderie tightened a knot of envy in Tomás’s gut. From the moment Yaz had greeted him and Maria in the theatre lobby after the recital, her arm around Jeremy’s waist, Tomás had noticed the light of pleasure shining in her eyes when she looked at the guy.
There’d also been a young blond woman in the group Tomás had quickly learned was Yaz’s best friend, Cheryl. Her parents were waiting, so she hadn’t stuck around long, though frankly, Tomás had been more concerned with sizing up Jeremy.
Something about the guy had seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until Yaz mentioned their tie to New York that Tomás remembered the bin of photos Maria and Rey had been going through a couple of weeks ago. Jeremy was the blond IT guy with a football-player build who’d been in several pics with Yaz. One in particular had stuck out. The two of them cozied up together at some fancy event, all smiles and hugs for the camera.
Tomás really didn’t want to like the guy, but when Jeremy had hunkered down to Maria’s eye level and praised her “awesome dance moves,” Tomás knew he couldn’t fault him.
If Jeremy Taylor were a schmuck, Rey and the other two girls wouldn’t have welcomed him into their home. Especially not Rey, the ever watchful, vigilant father.
“I’m glad you made it,” Yaz told Jeremy. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a connection to New York.”
She leaned back on the sofa, seated next to Rey. Lilí flanked their father on his other side and Rosa had settled on the armrest. Since his arrival, Tomás had noticed that none of the girls strayed far from Rey. He’d also lost track of the number of worried glances furtively sent in the older man’s direction.
“Yazmine has been working hard at the dance studio, practicing while the little one is in school, to keep up her form and technique,” Rey said. “I don’t want her to lose her skills or any opportunities because of me.”
“Enough, Papi,” Yaz mumbled. “I’m not losing anything. I chose to come home. I don’t regret it.”
Rey opened his mouth to respond, but must have decided otherwise because he pressed his lips together instead.
Yaz laid her head on her father’s shoulder. Lilí followed suit with the other. Rosa leaned forward to finger-comb Rey’s hair lovingly. Surrounded by his girls, Rey relaxed back into the sofa cushions, eyes closed.
Maybe this was his cue to leave. Tomás glanced at Jeremy. Mouth downturned, eyes questioning, Yaz’s friend also seemed to catch that something was going on. Too bad neither of them knew what. Tomás had a good idea it had to do with Rey’s health though.
“‘Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock . . . ’” Maria cuddled with an old baby doll someone had unearthed for her to play with, her song cutting through the stilted silence.
“Would you like to see the other toys in the box I found?” Rey asked Maria. “They belonged to my girls when they were your age.”
Maria clambered to her feet. “Sí, por favor. And maybe we can have some florecitas for a snack?”
Rey laughed. “I’m sure we can. Ven.” He pushed himself off the sofa, grimacing at the effort it took. “I might even have a pair of Yazmine’s old ballet shoes. I am saving them to put on display when she wins her first Tony award. Some day soon, right, nena?”
Yaz rolled her eyes at her father’s confidence in her abilities.
Rey chuckled, then started shuffling toward the basement door, his steps more measured than usual.
“Maybe I’ll go take a look at those treasures, too.” Lilí jumped off the couch to take her father’s arm.
“I am fine,” he argued.
“Humor me.”
“Ay, you girls . . .” Rey groaned, but he hooked arms with his youngest and continued walking, Maria skipping along in front of them.
The moment the basement door closed behind the trio, Jeremy scooted to the edge of the recliner and zeroed in on Rosa and Yaz.
“What’s going on? Everyone’s been tripping over each other trying to pull off this one-big-happy-family show since I got here. Even Lilí and you.” He pointed a finger at Rosa. “And I know you two usually get under each other’s skin. Something has you all walking on eggshells. What gives?”
Rosa slid off her perch on the couch armrest to plop down beside Yaz, her expression grim. She glanced from Yaz to Tomás, then back again.
“Should I join them downstairs?” Tomás asked, uncertain whether Rosa felt comfortable discussing a private family matter with him. He might not like it, but he had to admit they’d known Jeremy for much longer.
“No,” Yaz answered. “Since I’m taking care of Maria now, you should be aware of things, too.”
Her watching Maria wasn’t exactly the main reason why he wanted to stay. He’d gotten attached to this family, more than he’d anticipated. When it came to Yazmine, more than he should have. However, Yazmine’s role as Maria’s temporary nanny was the safest explanation, so he’d go with it if it meant he could stay.
“We met with Dr. Lopez this morning. Papi’s cancer is back. More aggressive this time, and it’s spread.” Yazmine’s voice shook, sending an answering tremor of fear through Tomás. “Papi doesn’t want to fight. It’s so advanced now, he wants to simply let things take their course.”
“What?!” Shock tore the word from him.
“It could be a matter of months, maybe weeks.” Rosa’s normally soft, round features were pinched with pain.
Tomás stared at the two sisters, despair a palpable force surrounding them. No matter the dismay he felt, he knew it was nothing compared to what they must be going through.
The thought spurred him to action.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked. “What do you need me to do to help you?”
Yaz’s sad semblance of her usual grin was like a chisel driving a crack in his heart. “Make a plan. Of course you’d say that.”
“Same here,” Jeremy added. “Count me in.”
“Thanks,” Yaz told them. “Right now, I’m not sure—”
“I want to stay and help care for him. But Papi won’t let me or Lilí take the semester off.” Rosa’s lower lip quivered and she caught it between her teeth.
“He’s right,” Yaz said bluntly. “That’s not an option.”
Rosa jerked back as if her sister had slapped her. “How can you say that?”
“Because you’ve worked so hard for your degree. If you stop now you’ll lose your job here. Who knows where you’ll end up working then?”
Still processing the news of Reynaldo’s diagnosis, Tomás couldn’t follow the sisters’ argument. Yaz must have understood his confused frown because she turned to him in explanation. “The librarian at our Catholic school wants to retire, but she’s waiting for Rosa to graduate so they can hire her.”
Yaz grabbed her sister’s arm. “It’s your dream job. You and Mrs. Patterson have talked about this since you started volunteering at the library your sophomore year. Why would you throw that away?”
“You think I can go back to Champagne alone, worrying about Papi?”
“You won’t be alone.”
Everyone turned to Jeremy. The questioning looks on Yaz and Rosa’s faces told Tomás they didn’t know what their friend meant either.
“I’ll be at the University of Illinois main campus in the spring,” Jeremy explained. “My company’s been working on a project with the U of I computer division for the last year. I’ll be there for a semester, then move to our Chicago office afterwards.”
“You’re leaving New York?”
Yaz didn’t say it, but Tomás bet the rest of her question, if voiced, would have been something along the lines of Where else would anyone want to live?
“The lights shine equally as brightly in other cities, Yaz,” Jeremy answered. “At least they do for me. Besides, it’s time to come back home. My mom’s thrilled.”
She looked skeptical, but didn’t argue. “Well, while you’re at U of I, you can look after Rosa for me.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Rosa’s cheeks bloomed with a blush of embarrassment. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know. But Jeremy’s a great guy to have in your corner when things get to be too much.”
Yaz and Jeremy exchanged a private glance that spoke of shared experiences. Close ones. That green-eyed snake slithered through Tomás again.
“I’ve got great shoulders to lean on if you need them, Rosa. Yaz knows I’d do anything for her. And that goes for you, too.”
Still keeping her grip on Rosa’s forearm with one hand, Yazmine reached out for Jeremy with the other. He gave Rosa a solemn nod.
Tomás watched the exchange, ashamed at his infantile jealousy in the face of Jeremy’s offer. Damn if he wasn’t a stand-up guy.
“I appreciate it,” Rosa told Jeremy, her voice softly polite. “But what would really help is if I were here, taking care of Papi.”
“But you can’t be!” Yaz argued.
“I was the one who stepped in after Mami died. When all you could focus on was getting into that dance program in New York after high school. Why does now have to be any different?”
“Because now you have too much to lose.”
“And you don’t?” Rosa shot back. “You’ve put your career on hold for too long.”
The sisters faced off against each other on the sofa, Tomás uncomfortably unsure how or even if he should step in.
Yaz tossed her head, sending the end of her high ponytail flying over her shoulder. Frustration smoldered in her caramel eyes.
Rosa, who Yaz had described as the quiet and mild-mannered one, obviously knew how to hold her own. Chin jutted out at a pugnacious angle, she stared Yaz down.
Neither sister appeared ready to concede.
Feeling like an unwelcome eavesdropper, Tomás caught Jeremy’s gaze. Tomás tilted his head toward the kitchen, silently asking if they should step away and give the sisters some privacy. Jeremy gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“Oh, come on, Rosa, my time away probably doesn’t matter,” Yaz continued. “You’ve said so yourself, me making it in New York is a crap-shoot.”
“Ay, por favor, una vez. Only once!” Rosa held her hands out, palms up, frustration oozing from her voice. “And I immediately took it back.”
Yaz shrugged. “Papi’s dream of me winning a Tony, or any other award, is probably just that, a dream. I know that, but I’m killing myself out there to give it to him because I owe him that much.”
The desperation and self-reproach in Yazmine’s words caught Tomás by surprise. What about her drive and desire to succeed for herself?
“In New York—hell, I’m one in a million there,” she went on, swishing her hand through the air like she was brushing aside her self-worth. “You, you’re perfect for your job. The students and faculty at Queen of Peace can’t ask for a better, more dedicated person. They already know you from your volunteer work. I can’t even count the number of kids who’ve stopped me in the grocery store to ask how you’re doing, when you’re coming back. You know how awesome that is?”
“Whatever.” Rosa grumbled, mouth drawn in a disbelieving sneer. “I’m a librarian. Believe me, I know how boring that sounds to most people. But here, in this house, I’m important. I know how to keep things running like Mami did, how to cook the food Papi likes. Here I matter. Out there . . .”
She lifted an arm to the front windows, then listlessly let it fall back to her lap.
“Quit selling yourself short,” Yazmine countered. “Why do you always do that?”
Rosa didn’t answer. Instead another charged silence filled the room.
Tomás kept quiet, letting the sisters dictate what would happen next. The whole time he waited, he couldn’t stop the nagging thought that maybe Rosa wasn’t the only sister short-changing herself. He’d never heard Yaz outright doubt her skills and talent.
He was suddenly ashamed to realize that while she’d listened to him confess some of his darkest secrets, she’d remained tight-lipped about hers. Sounded like she had her own baggage to unload in order for her to move on.
While he had no idea if she’d confide in him if asked, he sure as hell planned to try.
One thing he did know is that right now Yaz and her sisters should be leaning on one another, not fighting.
“Before this, when Papi needed something, I’m the one he turned to,” Rosa said, her voice a ragged whisper.
Eyes wide with pain, she pressed her hands to the sides of her face. The picture of a young woman at her wit’s end. “My place has always been to keep things running smoothly. Step in where Mami was supposed to be. Lilí can always be counted on for a laugh. You bring the star power and awe. Everyone wants to be by you, like you. But me?”
“You’re perfect.” Yaz smoothed her sister’s shoulder-length hair.
“I’m dependable,” Rosa scoffed. “The one people count on to get the job done. In reality, for me it’s more about trying to keep things the same. Stop things from changing so none of us feel the difference, or the pain. But they are changing, and I can’t do anything about it.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. The stark anguish on her face brought out Tomás’s protective older brother instinct, making him want to put his arm around Rosa’s shoulders and tell her he’d take care of everything, like he did with Maria.
“All I needed was one more semester and then I’d be home,” Rosa murmured. She spoke almost to herself rather than to the rest of them. “While you girls were busy being the life of the party, out conquering the world, I’d be here, making sure Papi was okay and everything was fine. Now, th-that’s being taken away fr—”
Rosa broke off with a hiccupping sob. She sprang off the couch and raced toward the front door where she snatched her jacket off the coatrack and stormed out.
Yaz rushed to follow, but Jeremy was quickly by her side, stopping her before she got to the foyer. “I’ll go. Maybe she needs to talk with someone who’s not so close to the situation.”
Yaz hesitated.
“He’s right,” Tomás said. “Let Jeremy try.”
Yaz looked at Tomás, indecision and confusion furrowing her brow, swimming in her beautiful eyes. He gave her a nod of encouragement.
“Fiiine.” Yaz drew out the word, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I appreciate you checking up on her, Jeremy. Good luck. I’ve never seen her like this.”
Seconds later, the door closed softly behind him. Down in the basement, someone started beating the bongo drums. Based on the off-tempo rhythm it wasn’t Reynaldo, but at least it meant the rest of their party was occupied.
“You okay?” Tomás asked.
Lame question. He didn’t want to push though and find Yaz headed out into the cold like Rosa.
One hand on her hip, Yaz pressed the other to her forehead. Her mouth opened and closed without a sound, as if she was at a loss for words; then, heaving a sigh, she strode into the kitchen.
Tomás debated following her, uncertain whether she’d want his company or not.
When he heard the soft sound of her muffled sobs he knew there was no decision to be made. No way could he ignore her need for comfort.
He found Yaz at the kitchen table, her head on her folded arms, her slender shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.
He remembered that day at Luigi’s Pizzeria when she’d told him she needed to be strong for her family, especially her sisters. It seemed like a lifetime ago, instead of barely a month.
Today had packed a whopper of a punch for her family. It was crazy for her to think she had to take all this on herself. No way could he sit back and let her crumble under the overwhelming pressure and fear.
Not alone anyway. He admired her too much.
Hell, who was he kidding, he cared for her too much.
This was a woman who ruled her studio with a steel backbone and a friendly grin. Who stepped in to lovingly care for his daughter with no questions asked. Who made him feel alive without a single word, only the hint of her saucy smile and the promise of a witty remark.
She didn’t deserve this.
Desperate to comfort her, to ease her pain, Tomás gently grasped her shoulders from behind, letting her know he was there for her.
Yaz froze at his touch. Her breath caught on a hiccup.
He waited, refusing to consider that she might not want his help.
Hoping she wouldn’t brush him off.
Before that thought settled over him, she was up and out of her chair, her arms encircling his waist, her face buried in his chest.
Relief loosened the knot choking his throat and he looped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him.
He drew in the scent of her violet perfume, caught the hint of the industrial-strength hairspray he’d smelled earlier tonight in the little girls’ dressing room. It would forever remind him of her.
Yaz’s sobs continued, wracking her slim frame. Slowly, rhythmically, he rubbed a hand up and down her back, praying for the right words to soothe her. “Está bien, it’s okay. I’m here for you.”
Dios mío, how he wanted to be here for her.
The depth of his emotion, the need to be her port in this stormy sea, built inside of him, scaring him more than anything else ever had. Despite that, he didn’t back away. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when she needed someone so desperately. Her grief, her fear, had to come before everything else.
“Why?” she murmured in between shuddered breaths. “Why does this have to happen?”
“I don’t know, querida. It’s beyond any of our comprehension. Rey’s a good man. He deserves better. Longer.”
Her tears flowed and he squeezed her tighter, anxious to reassure her of his presence. Willing her sorrow to seep into him so he could carry the burden for her.
“You’re going to be okay. I’m here for you.”
He repeated the words over and over, rubbing a hand up and down her back until her tears finally subsided.
Then he smoothed a hand down her silky ponytail and bent to kiss her forehead. She took a deep breath, her chest pressing against his.
That quickly his thoughts jumped to how good it felt to hold her, be close to her. To how much closer he wanted them to be.
Yaz hiccupped, then rubbed her nose on his shoulder.
“Uh, can I offer you a tissue instead?” he teased, hoping he might lighten the mood, maybe get one of her infectious smiles.
She gifted him with a watery version of it. “Sorry. Your sweater’s so soft though.”
She stroked her fingers over the material. Tomás held his breath. Now was not the time for him to think about how right she felt in his arms, her soft curves melded with his frame.
“Cashmere?”
It took him a full second to understand her question. “Uh, yeah. Here—” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.
“Thanks.” She turned away to blow her nose.
It was difficult, but he stopped himself from tugging her close again.
“Keep it,” he said when she tried to hand him back his handkerchief. “You can give it to me later. Clean.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but, yep, there it was, a hint of the sassy, you-don’t-wanna-mess-with-me expression he knew and loved.
His pulse skipped at his word choice and he took a mental double take.
It was a silly expression. No need for him to overreact. Gracias a Dios he hadn’t said the words out loud.
“All that stuff you said about yourself to your sister—no, let me finish.” He put a finger over her lips when she started to argue. Her eyes flashed in what he figured was annoyance. Too bad.
“You’re an incredible woman, Yazmine Fernandez. I’ve seen you in action—with your family, your students, pushy parents, on stage tonight. More importantly, with Maria. You amaze the audience, and you light up a room. You make people feel good about themselves. Like you said to Rosa, don’t short-change yourself.”
Yazmine’s eyes welled with tears once more.
“Ay, por favor. I didn’t want to make you cry. ¿Qué pasa?”
She pressed his handkerchief to her mouth and shook her head.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated, wiping a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’m trying to cheer you up.”
Yaz grasped his hand, linking her fingers with his. “You did. You are. Thank you.” She lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Desire blew through him, stoking the fire he kept trying to bank. Instinctively he put his other hand on the small of her back, keeping her near him.
Yaz arched away a little, a mix of surprise and longing on her beautiful, tear-streaked face.
There was no way he could resist.
Tomás dipped his head, half expecting her to withdraw. Praying she wouldn’t.
Gloriously she met him halfway.
Her lips were soft, sweet. Perfect. Heaven and hell all wrapped into one explosive package he longed to rip open. He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer still. She ran a hand up his biceps to the nape of his neck, fanning his desire when she dug her fingers into his hair.
She was like fresh water to a man stranded in the desert, lost and wandering alone for too long. Only, he didn’t crave just any woman. It had to be this one. The one who’d been driving him crazy, earning his admiration, burrowing her way into his life and making him smile and feel more alive the entire time.
Hungry for more, he deepened their kiss. Yaz moaned, a deep, guttural sound that spurred him on. He sucked her lower lip, savoring her taste of hot chocolate and marshmallows, along with a shot of something sinful and spectacular. Something that went straight to his head.
She leaned into him, pressing against his arousal. Seconds from going over the edge, he broke their kiss, bending to press a trail of tiny kisses down her neck. He nibbled along the edge of her low-cut sweater, licked the swell of her breast.
“Sí, por favor,” Yaz murmured, her voice breathy and heavy with desire.
Damn, she was so sexy, so open. So perfect.
A door opened and Rosa and Jeremy’s voices carried in from the front of the house.
Tomás and Yaz sprang apart like two teens afraid of getting caught by their parents. Chests heaving, they wound up on opposite sides of the kitchen. Yaz’s lips were swollen from his kisses, her eyes wide with . . . shock? Dismay? Fear?
Crap, he’d crossed the line. Again! Had he ruined the friendship they’d so carefully begun to build?
“Perdóname, I’m so sorry—”
“No, don’t say that.” Yazmine shook her head in short jerky motions over and over. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It wasn’t you. I’m the one at fault here. I know better.” No way would he let her take the blame. He’d initiated the kiss. He’d enjoyed it way too much. Taken it too far. The same way he had after the snowball fight in his backyard.
Guilt soured his stomach.
“Fine, it was both of us,” she said. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything. You were offering comfort. I took it. No big deal. Right?” Her voice went up an octave on the last word.
He stared at her warily, surprised she could brush off their attraction, the passion they’d shared, so easily. Then he noticed that she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Her eyes at his chest level, she gave him the polite mask she used with difficult parents at Hanson’s. “I was a mess. You were—Maybe we got a little—whatever.” Hands stuck in her back jeans pockets, she edged away from him, like she was afraid he’d pounce on her again. “We both know this can’t really happen. I’m not Perfect Partner material. And that’s what you’re looking for.”
Tomás slumped against the door to the backyard, thankful for the support. There was no possible way he could feel like a bigger jerk than he did right now.
“Yazmine?” Rosa called from the living room.
Yaz flinched before answering. “In here! We were, we’re about to, to make more hot chocolate. Want some?”
She scurried over to the fridge, pulling out the gallon of skim milk. She busied herself with filling the pot and fiddling with the knobs on the stove. Not once glancing in his direction.
Disappointed in himself for bringing them to this uncomfortable place, Tomás strode to the basement door. Rather than wait for Rosa and Jeremy to witness Yazmine’s obvious awkwardness around him, Tomás called for Maria to come up. No use sticking around if his being here made things worse.
Come Monday, when Yaz arrived to take care of Maria, he’d keep things polite, platonic. Hopefully by then any awkwardness would have passed.
Sure, he needed her help with childcare, and Maria enjoyed spending her days with Yaz, but he’d come up with a different solution if she felt uneasy around him because he couldn’t manage to control his impulsive desire.
Heart heavy, he quickly bundled up Maria and left, crossing his fingers that he hadn’t totally screwed things up.