Chapter Sixteen
The signal for an incoming phone call trilled through Yaz’s laptop speakers, drawing a smile to her lips. She minimized the audition website she’d been reading and clicked the icon to enlarge her Skype program. Several clicks later Maria’s inquisitive face appeared on Yaz’s computer screen.
“¡Hola!” Maria’s dark brown eyes lit up and she clapped her hands with a grin. “¡Feliz Navidad!”
“Merry Christmas, mamita! It’s great to see you.” Yaz hadn’t realized how much she’d miss her little companion until Maria and Tomás had left for Texas a few days after the parranda.
His pep talk that night had really opened her eyes. He was going after what he wanted—a stable family life for himself and his daughter—in what she’d thought of as a methodical way, but he was happy. More importantly, he was succeeding. If she applied that same focus in New York, the rest would fall into place for her, too.
“Look!” Maria leaned closer to the computer screen, opened her mouth wide, and pointed to where her top right front tooth had been before they’d left. “Ih-feww-ou.”
“It fell out?”
“Uh-huh.” Maria’s curls bobbed at her energetic nod. “And the tooth fairy bringed me three whole dollars!”
“Wow, you got visits from Santa and the tooth fairy. Lucky girl. Are you having fun with your cousins and all your new toys?” Yaz figured the atmosphere in Tomás’s crowded family home, with his three siblings and all their kids, had been much rowdier than the Christmas morning she’d spent with Papi, Lilí, and Rosa.
“You should see what Santa bringed me!” Maria’s enthusiasm could have convinced Scrooge to change his ways, forget the three ghosts. “I got a new baby doll, with her own cradle and bottle and diapers. I can take care of her like my very own real live baby! You can teach me when we get home. Will you?”
“I’m sure I can figure it out. But you know who will be a much bigger help when it comes to babies? Mrs. Buckley. She’ll be home soon, too.”
“Sí, pero . . .” Maria frowned, her earlier excitement dimming. Yaz tried not to show her own disappointment that their time together would soon end.
“But,” Maria repeated, “that doesn’t mean I won’t get to see you. Does it?”
“Of course not. Maybe not as often, but we’ll still hang out together as much as we can.”
Maria still didn’t look convinced.
“You know what I really wanna know?” Yaz asked, hoping to change the somber mood. “What did you name your beautiful baby doll?”
Maria perked up again. “Flor! But I call her Flower, too, so she knows her name in English and Spanish.”
“Smart girl.”
“My doll family’s gonna be like yours, all flowers—Yazmine, Rosa, and Lilí. I asked Papá if I could change my name to Daisy so I could be a pretty flower like you. But he said no.”
Yaz laughed so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. Ay, she missed Maria’s childlike imagination.
“Here, I’m gonna get Flor so she can meet you!” Maria hopped out of the desk chair and raced out of view, her little-girl voice calling out to Tomás. “Papá, I’m on the ’puter with Ms. Yazmine!”
Yaz grinned. Wait until she shared this flower story with Papi. He always got a kick out of the funny things Maria came up with.
Now that the little girl wasn’t filling the computer screen, Yaz noticed the camera’s view of the room. A poster of a football team was tacked up on the wall next to a bookshelf. Trophies, a scuffed football, and a collection of books filled the scarred wooden shelves. A framed picture caught her attention.
She leaned closer to her laptop, straining to get a better view. Squinting, she made out what looked like a younger Tomás in a graduation cap and gown, flanked by a tall gentleman with dark good looks and a short, plump-figured woman with a welcoming smile.
A guilty thrill trickled through her. This was obviously Tomás’s childhood bedroom. If only she could manipulate the computer camera to scan the entire area and sneak a peek. See a bit of what a young Tomás had treasured.
Had he been as focused, as goal-oriented as he was now? He’d certainly been a cute young man, though age and maturity had molded those round boyish looks into the chiseled hunk he was today. She wondered whether, if she could zoom in on that photograph, she would find the same intensity, the same charisma she saw when he gazed at her now.
A dark shadow passed across the screen, momentarily blocking her view.
“You know, the camera usually works best if you don’t partially cover it with your hand.”
Tomás’s teasing voice made her jump back in her desk chair.
“That’s better.” He chuckled. “You look more attractive with two eyes rather than one.”
He winked, his dimple flashing her a hello.
Why did he have to be so adorable?
She stuck out her tongue at him. “I knew there was something missing around here this morning. Your smart mouth.”
It’d been missing in the days after the parranda, too. He’d worked like a dog trying to get ahead with the Linton campaign before his trip. They’d barely seen each other, Maria mostly hanging out at Yazmine’s house because of his late hours. He’d even stayed overnight at his office a couple nights, sleeping on his couch, showering in the building’s gym.
He’d left for Texas tired and worn down, though determined to win that account. Three days into his visit and he looked refreshed already. His posture relaxed, his voice and face radiating happiness. Spending time with his family obviously agreed with him. Like hers did, too.
“Before Maria gets back, how are things at home?” He sobered, his expression serious.
Yaz sighed, wishing harder than she’d ever wished for anything else on Christmas morning that this subject could be avoided, simply ignored until it went away. “Papi’s doing so-so. More tired than normal, but Dr. Lopez said that’s to be expected. He’s taking a nap now.”
“And your sisters?”
“Rosa is reading a new book she got in her stocking, go figure. Lilí headed out to the sled hill in the park where she can act like the crazy kid she still is.”
A corner of Tomás’s mouth curved. “I know another Fernandez sister who can get a little crazy in the snow.”
“Yeah, Rosa makes a mean snow angel if you can get her to put her book down and join you outside.” Pleasure bloomed in Yazmine’s chest at his lazy chuckle.
“Seriously, you holding up okay?” Even through the video display she felt the heat of his gaze honing in directly on her.
“I’m fine.” She tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder, trying hard to be nonchalant about the fact that Papi was fading, faster than any of them were ready for. “I’m either at the studio practicing or hanging out at home with Papi.”
“I want you to know—Hey, there you are!” Tomás glanced to his left. Probably toward the bedroom door because Maria had run off in that same general direction.
“I’m ba-ack!” Yaz heard Maria’s sing-song tone before the child appeared in the computer screen.
“And you brought almost all your gifts.” Tomás winced, shooting Yaz a sorry-about-this look. “Great idea, m’ija.”
Maria scrambled up onto his lap holding a life-sized baby doll and its bottle, a Barbie wearing a blue and pink tutu, a child-sized matching tutu Yaz had given her, and a red envelope Yaz recognized as her gift to Tomás.
“I see you got my presents. I hope you like them.”
Shopping for Maria had been easy. Choosing something for Tomás had been about as mind-boggling as one of Rosa’s crossword puzzles. Yaz had struggled with what to get a man who made you want to be a better, stronger person, without revealing how much you’d come to care about him.
“Oh, I looooooove my presents!” Maria answered. “My costume fits perfect! I look like a real dancer! Abuela even said so!”
Yaz grinned. “I totally agree!”
“And, and, and I showed them part of our dance,” Maria continued, bouncing with enthusiasm. “Abuelo said I did awesome!”
“Of course you did.” Dios, it was unthinkable to even imagine someone not loving this little girl. Not wanting to share these special moments with her. It boggled Yaz’s mind how Tomás’s ex didn’t even want to be in contact with Maria over the holidays. Yaz yearned to hug her right now. “You are super talented. And if you work hard, you’ll keep getting better. Look, even your dad did okay at the Christmas recital once he started practicing.”
“Wait a minute!” Tomás leaned to the side so he could see around Maria and her armfuls of gifts. “I did better than okay. I rocked it! Plenty of the moms even said so.”
Yaz snorted at his self-satisfied smirk. Yeah, quite a few of the single moms had, especially those few who’d slipped him their numbers. With Cheryl in the picture now, he wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Though come to think of it, Cheryl had seemed out of sorts when she’d come back from her friend’s wedding, and their second-date plans had been nixed because of Tomás’s late work hours before he’d left.
“Pues, I’m glad you liked my gift, mamita,” Yaz told Maria. “I can’t wait to see you wear your tutu on free-for-all day at the studio.”
“Me too! I hafta go now. ’buela said I could help mash the beans for dinner.” With a wiggle of her fingers and a flounce of dark curls, Maria hopped off Tomás’s lap and out of view. “¡Te quiero!”
Yaz couldn’t have replied even if she’d been given a chance. Maria’s off-the-cuff “I love you” had snatched away her voice, ensnared her heart in a grip that was far stronger than a child’s hastily spoken declaration should warrant.
Yaz fell back against her seat and closed her eyes, imprinting Maria’s words on her heart to treasure when she returned to New York.
“What’s wrong?” Tomás asked.
She smoothed a trembling hand over her hair, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear. “Nothing. In the midst of everything, it’s uplifting to be around her.”
“I hear you.” He picked up the red envelope Maria had left behind. “Now it’s my turn to say thanks. A monthly bottle of wine for three months? Nice idea.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearm on the edge of his laptop. She could see the dark springy hair on his arm, the muscles flexing as he tapped his screen with the envelope.
“I love it.”
She slid her gaze down to her keyboard, not wanting him to see how much his words meant to her.
“Did you get my gift?” he asked.
She picked up the autographed collector’s edition of a Harry Connick Jr. Greatest Hits CD and concert DVD she’d opened earlier. “Already uploaded on my iTunes. The autograph earned jealous ‘ooohs’ from both my sisters. Thanks.”
“‘You can never get too much of Harry,’ isn’t that what you said the other night?”
Her chest tightened at the memory of their quiet talk on the second-floor landing. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“That’s the kind of guy I am.” He laid a hand over his heart, a saccharine-sweet, Eddie Haskell expression on his face. “Maybe you can bring your CD over and we’ll listen to Harry croon a few tunes while we open the first bottle of wine.”
“You’re going to share with me?”
She edged forward in her seat, his magnetism reeling her in despite the thousand-plus miles separating them. Dios, she must be going a little insane because she would swear she smelled his musky cologne, felt the heat of his touch as if he held her hand instead of the gift certificate she’d given him.
“Of course I’ll share, why wouldn’t I?” A tiny V furrowed between his brows.
She voiced the one reason that was easier, safer. “I guess I figured Cheryl would get that honor. I know you guys had a hard time connecting before you left.”
“If things work out, she’ll get to taste a bottle, don’t worry. I was thinking that with Mrs. B heading back on the first, maybe you could come over for dinner. She’ll want to see you, do her mother hen act to say thanks herself.”
Yaz bit the inside of her lip, focusing on that discomfort rather than another. His suggestion of them sharing a bottle of wine and a little Harry had nothing to do with romance, more like a friendly good-bye.
“Speaking of getting back, Maria and I land midmorning on the thirty-first. Are you sure you don’t mind watching her that evening?”
“Of course not.” Yaz waved off the question. “We’re planning dinner at seven followed by an early Happy New Year celebration before Papi and Maria get too tired. You’re welcome to stay and eat if you have time before you pick up Cheryl.”
Yaz tried to think happy thoughts when the picture of him and Cheryl kissing at midnight flashed in her head. She and Tomás would be starting off the new year as they should—him in the arms of a woman who offered the family life he wanted, she practicing at the barre in her basement, preparing for New York.
“I’ll have to let you know. Cheryl and I have been playing phone tag.”
“Sure.”
He cut another quick glance toward the doorway. “I better let you go. But Yaz, if you need anything, if Rey or your sisters need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, at the same time tamping down her desire to keep him on the video chat longer. It was only borrowed time.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you on speed dial,” she answered, but she knew she’d only call him as a last resort. It was better that way.
Mrs. B arrived back on the first. Tomás wouldn’t need Yaz’s help anymore. It was time she stopped relying on him to bolster her confidence. Time for her to stand on her own.
* * *
Two weeks into the new year, Yazmine stood at the kitchen sink watching the snow fall outside the window, while Rosa finished clearing the dining room table.
“I’m glad Lilí’s friends made her join them,” Yaz said. “I didn’t think she’d put up such a fuss about catching a movie.”
“She’s hardheaded. Like you.” Rosa set a stack of plates on the counter.
Ignoring the jab, Yaz started filling the sink with warm water. “She’s hurting. Struggling with memories of Mami’s death.”
“What makes you say that?”
“She told me so this morning. I took a cup of coffee to her room and we shared it while you were hogging the bathroom.”
“I’m never the one hogging the bathroom. That’s you two.” Rosa leaned a hip against the counter. Arms crossed, she frowned at Yaz. “And why hasn’t she said anything to me about how she’s feeling?”
Yaz heard the hurt in Rosa’s voice and she rushed to soothe her. “I was surprised she mentioned it, really. She’s been so sullen and moody since Christmas. Don’t take it personally. We’re all in this together, okay?”
A tense beat passed before Rosa nodded. Evidently she was still struggling with her need to fix everyone’s problems. Good luck with that idea.
“Look, I’ve got Lilí’s kitchen duty covered tonight so your fancy schedule’s not in jeopardy of disruption.” Yaz glanced pointedly at the “organizational chore chart” Rosa had created and hung on the side of the refrigerator, like she’d done when they were in high school.
“I don’t know what you have against being organized,” Rosa complained, probably still sore at Lilí’s snarky comments about the color-coded system. “I’m only trying to help.”
“I know.”
“A place for everything and everything in—”
“—in its place.”
Yaz shared a tender smile with her sister as together they finished one of Mami’s favorite mottos.
“Somehow, her words stuck with you much better than with Lilí and me.” Yaz watched Rosa perusing the pictures stuck to the fridge door. She bit back a smile when Rosa started carefully lining up the photos in straight rows and columns.
“From order comes peace. Serenity,” Rosa murmured.
Things they all lacked now. And it was only getting worse.
“Mira, I’ve got things covered down here. Vete arriba con Papi. Go up with him.” Soap bubbles flew through the air when Yaz flicked her wet hand toward the upstairs and repeated the words. “Maybe he’ll want you to read to him some more.”
Rosa pulled a picture off the fridge. Her eyes glued to the image, she sank slowly into one of the kitchen chairs. “Tengo miedo, Yazmine.”
Her sister’s softly whispered words pierced Yaz’s chest like a sharp dagger. Shutting off the stream of warm water, she took a steadying breath before turning to face Rosa. “I’m scared, too.”
“It’s not fair.” Frustration and pain laced Rosa’s words. “I mean, I know that’s an absurd, infantile complaint. Life’s not fair. But I can’t help it. I want more moments like this.”
Rosa turned the picture to show Yaz the candid shot of the four of them after Lilí’s high school graduation. Huge smiles, arms wrapped around each other. Papi’s face glowed with pride. None of them aware of the threat looming over their shoulders.
“Don’t go there. It’ll only make this worse,” Yaz cautioned. “We have to take it one day at a time.”
“You sound more levelheaded than I do. How’d that happen?” Rosa shook her head with a weary sigh.
“I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Yaz strode over to wrap Rosa in a tight hug. “Now go check on Papi before I change my mind about covering Lilí’s dishwashing shift.”
With a wistful look at the graduation photo, Rosa set it on the table, then left the kitchen.
Biting her lip to stem the ever-present threat of tears, Yaz plopped down onto Rosa’s chair. She traced the smile on Papi’s lips, dragging her finger lightly over each of their faces. Rosa was right. This wasn’t fair.
The new year was supposed to signal new beginnings, positive affirmations.
Only, it didn’t for her. Not for any of them.
Over the past few days, Papi had slowed down considerably. He complained more of fatigue. His body ached. His breaths were more difficult for him to catch. Yaz hadn’t said as much to her sisters, but she was afraid for Papi, for all of them. The downward spiral was happening too quickly. Like someone had jammed the fast-forward button on the video of their lives.
She wasn’t ready to say good-bye to him. Didn’t think she’d ever be ready.
The doorbell rang, dragging Yaz out of her depressing thoughts. She glanced at her watch, unable to think of who might be stopping by at eight forty-five on a Wednesday evening. Cheryl had mentioned grabbing dinner with coworkers after a staff meeting. None of Rosa’s close friends were in town. Pablo had been here most of the day.
Reaching the door, she looked through the peephole, quickly drawing back in surprise when she recognized Tomás.
She hadn’t seen him since the morning of January first when he’d picked up Maria from her house. Even when she’d gone over for the thank-you dinner Mrs. B had planned, Tomás had wound up working late.
She’d been anxious to see him, tease him about sharing his first bottle of wine with her. Instead, he’d already fallen back into his old workaholic routine, concentrating on the Linton campaign now that his nanny was back.
Silly as it was, she missed him. She’d tried convincing herself that going from seeing him every day to not at all was like ripping off a Band-Aid. The quicker you were done with it, the better. It hadn’t worked.
Now that he stood on her front porch, snow dusting his broad shoulders, a tired yet hopeful expression in his sexy bedroom eyes, an excited thrill zinged through her.
She made short work of the dead bolt and tugged open the front door. Despite her fleece pants and thick sweater, she shivered at the winter’s bite. “What brings you out in this weather? Hurry in, it’s freezing out there.”
“¡Gracias! No matter how long I’ve lived in the Chicago area, I still can’t get used to this mess.”
Tomás brushed passed her into the foyer, his musky scent mixing with the crisp smell of snow. Once inside, he shrugged out of his navy wool coat, draping it and his black scarf over a hook on the coatrack.
“Are you just now getting home from the city?” she asked, noting he still wore his black pinstriped suit with his red and black tie—her favorite combination.
He brushed the snow from his hair. “Linton moved up the deadline on our presentation so it’s been crazy since we got back from the holidays. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
“Old habits die hard, huh?”
“I don’t plan on making it a habit anymore. If I can land this account, I’ll be golden. It’ll only be a matter of staying on top of things, keeping in touch with the old man so we’re rarely in this position again.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“A good plan.” He tilted his head forward, a wiseguy grin on his lips. Then he quickly sobered, glancing up the stairs. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to stop by and see Rey. I’ve been working in the city five, sometimes six days a week, getting home late after planning meetings. Do you think he’s still up?”
“I’m not sure. Rosa’s sitting with him while I finish the dishes. You can go check if you want.”
“How’s he doing?” Tomás’s face creased with worry, reminding her how his concern for her father had drawn her to him from that first time he’d come over for dinner.
“He tires easily, and his pain is pretty much constant.” Yaz twisted the towel in her hands, hating the uselessness of letting the cancer run its course. “Dr. Lopez warned us it’s only going to get worse.”
Tomás stilled her nervous movements by placing a hand over hers. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re strong. And you have the rest of us to lean on.”
She knew she should smile, make a witty remark, but that was beyond her capabilities right now. Not with fear, frustration, and sorrow constantly bubbling to the surface.
“If he’s still awake, I won’t stay long. I promise.”
“He’ll be pleased to see you.” She stepped back, sliding away from Tomás’s touch before she said something stupid like how pleased she was to see him. “I better get going. The dishes won’t wash themselves.”
She started toward the kitchen.
“Yaz!”
When she glanced over her shoulder, Tomás already stood on the first step.
“Are you driving to the studio to rehearse when you’re done?” he asked. “Or will you be around?”
“I’ll be here. They’re calling for more snow tonight so I’m going to do my workout in the basement.”
“I was hoping you’d have time to chat for a few minutes. I wanted to run something by you.”
“Something . . . ?”
“An idea for Linton. Funny, as much as you love giving me a hard time, you have a good eye. I wanted to get your opinion on the final idea.” He hesitated, his uncertainty a reminder of the distance that had cropped up between them the past couple of weeks. “If you don’t mind.”
“Sure. No problem.” Two could play the just-friends game.
“Thanks. I’ll be down soon.”
He flashed the lazy grin that won her over every time, then he took the stairs by twos, quickly disappearing around the top banister.
Yaz strode back to the kitchen, warning herself not to get too excited. He valued her opinion. No big deal. Not a big deal at all.
Yeah, right. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d actually believe it.
* * *
“A sandy beach, sunset skies, palm trees, a hammock hanging off to the side.” Tomás moved his hands through the air in front of him, trying to paint the picture for Yazmine. They sat at her kitchen table, the smell of a strong pot of coffee, freshly brewed, and warm air from the vent giving the room a cozy feel.
“The sky’s a vibrant mix of varying shades of peach and blood orange with a touch of wispy purplish, light blue clouds. Two figures in shadow. A diamond ring sparkling in a box in the guy’s hand.”
He had counted on Yaz’s teasing grin and smart-aleck comments to keep him levelheaded. Instead, her eyes filled with a dreamy expression he hadn’t seen before. Her lips parted as she pictured the scene he created for her.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I can see it. Sounds beautiful.”
She was beautiful.
The thought had his blood heating.
Damn! He dragged his attention back to his presentation, before things got embarrassing for him. “Emblazoned across the sky in silvery letters we have the slogan, sparkling like diamonds on a midnight tapestry.”
“¿Qué dice?” Yaz slowly lifted her mug to her lips, her gaze pensive, considering. Alluring even though she probably didn’t even realize it.
“It says: Linton—for a love that lasts a lifetime.”
The dreamy look on her face vanished, replaced by a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. “Hmmm, sounds familiar.”
She remembered.
He smiled back, pleased with her reaction to the campaign and her part in it. “That night you came over after Maria had gone to bed. We talked about Linton Jewelry and shared a bottle of wine.” The night they’d danced in front of the fireplace together. “You tossed out some flippant remark. Which doesn’t surprise me.”
She narrowed her cat eyes at him, her saucy mouth still quirked.
He arched a brow. “If the shoe fits.”
“I prefer a sti—”
“Stiletto. I know.”
He dodged the balled-up napkin she threw at him, his coffee sloshing out of his mug. “Easy. Seriously though . . .”
He used her weapon to soak up the spilled liquid. “You inspired me. It’s nice to have an outsider’s point of view every once in a while. I finally feel like this campaign is coming together, and I owe it in part to you.”
She looked down at her mug, but not before he noticed the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”
She was a study in contrasts, this woman. Had been since the first day he’d met her.
That was part of what kept him on his toes around her. Part of what made her so damnably captivating.
“I still owe you a glass of wine, don’t I? Sorry about missing dinner the other evening.”
“Forget about it.” There was a beat of silence before she glanced back up at him. He caught a hint of resignation flashing in her gaze. “We both have a lot on our plates. Save the wine for Cheryl. How’s that going, by the way? She and I have been so busy the past couple of weeks, we haven’t connected much.”
Tomás took a sip of his coffee, considering how to respond. Cheryl wasn’t really a topic he cared to discuss with Yaz. He hadn’t spoken much to the easygoing teacher himself lately, and while their New Year’s Eve party hadn’t been a dud, something had felt . . . off.
Honestly, going out on a date was about the last thing on his mind right now. “I’m not so sur—”
“Yazmine! Yazmine!”
Rosa’s cry of alarm reverberated through the house. In seconds, Tomás was racing up the stairs, Yaz nipping at his heels. Together they tore into Reynaldo’s room.
“What’s wrong?” Yaz cried, her voice a screech of fear.
Rey still sat up in his bed, but he looked much paler than he had twenty minutes ago when Tomás had visited with him. His skin was ashen, his body in spasms as he struggled for breath.
“What should I—We have to—He needs help!” Rosa’s eyes bugged out in alarm. Her hands shook as they fluttered through the air in her agitation.
“Cálmate,” Rey gasped.
“Calm down?” Yaz squeaked. She elbowed Rosa aside, then fell to her knees next to the bed.
Rey grabbed at his chest, tugging at his flannel pajama top. “No puedo, I can’t, can’t breathe.”
“It’s okay, Papi. Rosa, call 911,” Yaz ordered.
Rosa stood frozen, staring at their father, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. In seconds she’d gone from an agitated mess to a mute statue. Tomás doubted she’d be able to put together a coherent sentence at this point.
“I got it.” He whipped out his cell phone.
Rey shook his head. “No. Stay. Here.” His words were broken up by his desperate gasps. “Estoy. Bien.”
“Papi, you’re not fine.” Yaz’s voice trembled. “Tomás, please call an ambulance.”
“No, no.” Rey’s agitation increased. He waved at Tomás with jerky motions.
“Why don’t I call Dr. Lopez, too? He can decide the best course of action,” Tomás suggested. It was obvious Rey didn’t want to go to the hospital, but his daughters needed the comfort of a medical opinion.
Rey nodded, continuing to wheeze.
Yaz looked up at Tomás. He could see her struggling to contain her panic. Whatever he had to do to help her, he would.
“How do I reach the doctor?” Tomás waited, his fingers poised to key in the digits.
Yaz rattled off the number, rubbing a hand up and down Rey’s back.
Tomás stepped over to Rosa so he could put an arm around her stiff shoulders. Pale-faced, her expression shell-shocked, she looked like she might shatter into a gazillion pieces if someone didn’t hold her together.
Moments later they’d been reassured that Dr. Lopez and the ambulance were on their way. Rey had slid down to lay in bed, his breathing shallow, but steady. Yaz carefully adjusted the pillows behind his head.
Tomás gently led Rosa over to sit on the end of the bed.
“Está bien,” he told her gently. “Help is on the way.”
Noting the sheen of sweat on her face, he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it in her hands. “Take a deep breath. Hold it in for a couple of seconds. There you go. Release. Now slowly take in another.”
Rosa gazed up at him, her brown eyes huge orbs filled with terror.
“It’s okay,” he repeated, sinking down to sit beside her. He brushed her hair out of her face, seeking to comfort her like he would his own sister. “It’s scary, I know.”
Yaz laid a hand on Rosa’s shoulder. “Hang in there with me. We’ll be okay. You hear me?”
“Lilí,” Rosa whispered, her lips barely moving.
“I’ve got it covered.” Scrolling through his contacts, Tomás tapped Lilí’s name, thankful he’d thought to save her number the one time she’d relayed a message about Maria. This wasn’t a call he wanted to place, but no way would he make Yaz or Rosa do it.
“Hi Lilí, it’s Tomás,” he said when she picked up on the third ring.
“Tomás?”
He stood up, lowering his voice and stepping out into the hallway when he heard Lilí’s surprise. “I’m sorry to call you like this, but you need to head home. Now.”
“What’s wrong? Is Papi—”
“He’s holding his own, at the moment,” Tomás rushed to reassure her. “Dr. Lopez is on his way.”
“What happened? Where’s Yaz? Where’s Rosa? They’re both supposed to be there!”
“They’re here, we’re all here.” He worked to use a soothing tone in an effort to stop the rising hysteria he heard in her young voice. “But they want you with them. Can someone else drive you? If not, I’ll come get you.”
“No, no, that’s okay. One of my friends will do it . . .” Lilí trailed off, probably like her sisters, her thoughts scrambling in different directions, unable to make sense of anything. Hell, his own heart was racing, and Rey wasn’t his father.
“The most important thing is for you to get here safely. We’ll be waiting for you.” He turned when he felt someone touch his elbow. “Hold on a minute.”
He passed the phone to Yaz, her hand trembling as she lifted it to her ear.
“Come home, Lilí. We need you.” Yaz’s voice caught on the last word. Tomás heard Lilí’s tinny “okay” through the speaker before Yaz silently cut the connection.
Tomás enveloped her in his arms, wishing like hell he could shield her from this pain. Hating the impotence of it all.
He felt a shudder go through her, knew she fought to pull herself together for her sisters’ sake as well as Rey’s. Dios, how he admired this strong, passionate woman.
“Hold on to me if you need to. I’m here,” he said, tightening his embrace.
She responded by sliding her arms around his waist, burrowing her face into his chest. His breath caught as he felt her burrowing deeper into his heart. Panic flared, his flight instinct kicking into high gear.
Doggedly he ignored it. The only thing that mattered right now was this woman, her family, and the support they needed. Anything else slipped off the radar of importance.
The front doorbell rang and Yaz flinched.
“I’ll get it. You stay here with Rosa.” He combed a hand down her silky hair, swiped a tear from her cheek with the back of his hand.
“Gracias. I don’t know if I . . . without you . . . ay, thanks.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Bending down he pressed a kiss to her brow.
Things were about to get even more difficult for her and her sisters. God help him, he’d do anything he could for them. He may have already been burning the candle at both ends, but the flames were about to get bigger.
As much as it pained him to say, Rey’s time was drawing to an end. No way would Tomás leave Yazmine to deal with everything alone. If it was the only thing he could do for her, he’d be there for her to lean on, for as long as she needed him.