Fifteen Candles (7 page)

THAT SATURDAY
, Alicia and Gaz met up to find a location for Sarita's
quince
. It was one of the most important things on the to-do list, but between her internship and Gaz's job, it had been hard to find the time. They needed to get this settled.

“Okay,” Alicia said, getting into Gaz's car. “First stop, the Miami Science Museum. I haven't been there since I was a kid, but I spoke to a lady over the phone who said that they've got a planetarium where all of Sarita's guests can view a U2 stargazing show, then move into a party room.”

“Cool, let's hit it,” Gaz said.

Alicia turned on the radio, and immediately a CD started playing. She didn't recognize it, but she liked it.

“This is really good,” she said. “Who is it?”

“It's me,” Gaz said.

“Stop messing around,” Alicia said, surprised. “I've heard you put a hurting on Ricky Martin at the karaoke spot, but I never heard you sound like this.”

Gaz smiled. “Don't hate on ‘La Vida Loca'—it's a classic.”

“So is ‘Hips Don't Lie,'” Alicia said. “But that doesn't make me Shakira.”

“I don't know about that,” Gaz said. “I've seen you dance. You can swivel those hips with the best of them.”

Alicia could feel her face getting hot. Gaz had never said anything about her hips—or any other part of her body, for that matter—before. She wanted to push him further, but she couldn't think of anything sexy to say.

“So, tell me about this CD,” she said, moving the subject back into more manageable territory.

“It's a new sound I've been working on with my brothers,” Gaz said. “Dez plays guitar. Esteban plays bass, and Carlos is like a modern-day Tito Puente. If it's a percussion instrument, he can play it. But you already knew that.”

“I keep telling you you should promote your music more,” Alicia said, nodding. “Sarita's
quince
could be huge for you guys. You're going to be so amazing!”

Gaz suddenly looked shy. “I don't know.”

“Why?” Alicia said.

“I don't know,” Gaz repeated, staring straight ahead. “Playing in my garage is one thing. Strangers is totally different.” He needed a haircut, and there was a curl that kept looping over the right side of his face. Alicia had to fight the impulse to push it behind his ear.

He looks so darn cute, she thought. Wearing a Gap (Product) Red T and faded blue jeans, he was like the quintessential Miami hottie. He had his window rolled down, his car had nothing that even
resembled
air-conditioning, and still Alicia thought his face looked beautiful. As they drove on the main interstate, right along the beach, and she could catch glimpses of blue behind the profile view of his eyes, his ears, his lips…

Alicia snapped out of the total daze into which she had fallen. “You've got to put together a set list,” she said, trying to cover.

Gaz gave her a strange look. “I was just telling you I had. Where's your head, Cruz?”

Alicia quickly realized that he must've told her while she had been daydreaming about him. “Good,” she said. “Really good. I mean, thanks.”

“I'm the one who should be thanking you,” Gaz said. “And Amigas. I'm a little shy about my music, but if I want it to succeed, I've got to put it out there.”

Being back at the museum brought up all kinds of memories for Alicia. She'd forgotten how majestic the main lobby was, with its ceiling that seemed to go right up to the heavens, and the skeleton of a giant dinosaur, reconstructed from real dinosaur bones. She could picture the limo pulling up to the museum and Sarita and her date walking up the museum's big stone steps. Add to that the planetarium show, and once they'd tricked out the party room, this was going to be a
quinceañera
that no one in Miami would ever forget.

At the main desk, Alicia asked for Ms. Seager, the director of events.

A few minutes later, an elderly woman came out, and the girl at the information booth pointed her toward Alicia and Gaz.

“Well, hello, there,” the woman said. “Nice to meet you.” Ms. Seager was dressed in a bright pink Lilly Pulitzer dress, and her back was hunched over in a way that suggested she could not have straightened up even if she had wanted to.

“You, too,” Alicia said, reaching out to shake the woman's hand. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, yes,” Ms. Seager said. “And this must be your husband.”

Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I must.”

Alicia wanted to die. If there were a God, he would have opened up the lobby floor and had her sucked into a different dimension. Couldn't Ms. Seager see that she was only fifteen? And that Gaz was only sixteen? And that they were certainly
not
married? Alicia looked at the woman, who wore startingly thick glasses, and realized that chances were good that she couldn't see much of anything. Still, she thought, she'd better set the record straight.

“This is Gaz Fuentes,” Alicia said. “He's my business partner.”

“How sweet! Married and working together, too,” the woman said. “And you have a little girl, and you're planning a party for her, right?”

Alicia was about to correct her when Gaz, who was clearly quite amused by the scenario, shook his head.
Why
bother?
he mouthed.

Alicia gave in. How could she resist? “We'd like to see the planetarium room and the party space,” she said.

“Excellent,” Ms. Seager answered. “Follow me. I'll take you up in the staff elevator. I've worked here for fifty-two years, and it still gives me a thrill.”

Alicia and Gaz followed her down a long hallway of offices, then into the staff elevators. They exchanged a glance, clearly thinking the same thing. The old lady was a little batty, but going behind the scenes at a museum was really cool.

Ms. Seager took them into the planetarium room, which was a good-size auditorium, with a massive, pale blue, domed ceiling. The major constellations—the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and Orion—were painted across it in gold. It was stunning.

“We project the film up there,” Ms. Seager bellowed. “We've even got IMAX.”

“This is great,” Alicia said, “exactly what we're looking for.”

Gaz looked around. “When's the next show? I almost want to stay.”

Ms. Seager smiled. “The next show is at three p.m. If you want to stay, I will provide complimentary tickets for you and your lovely wife.”

Alicia flushed. She wanted to say something, but Gaz just put his arm around her and said, “My wife and I would love that.”

She let out a sigh. Nice of him to turn it into a joke, when he
knew
she had feelings for him.

Of course, she'd never actually said that she had feelings for him.

But he
knew
. He
must
! How could he not know? She never talked about other guys. She spent every weekend with him. What did he think? That she was some kind of nun? She liked him, and if she hadn't been worried about ruining their friendship, she would have said something.

At that very instant, Alicia had a major
Aha
moment. What if Gaz liked her but wasn't saying anything because
he
didn't want to ruin their friendship? How were they ever going to get together? And how could one lousy date ruin five years of friendship? If it was weird, they'd just never date or smooch or make googly eyes again. No big thing.

“Alicia,” Gaz said, shaking her by the shoulder. She had zoned out again. “Ms. Seager's ready to show us the party room.”

Then he leaned down and whispered, “And God knows, she is not getting any younger.”

Stifling giggles, they followed her back to the staff elevator, and this time, Ms. Seager pressed the button for the fourth floor.

They walked past the anatomy room and the shark exhibit to a black door behind a kinetics exhibit, consisting of a big glass tank full of golf balls that moved under certain levels of pressure and air.

“This is a very special party space,” Ms. Seager said. “I know you're going to love it.”

She opened up the door, and Alicia let out a gasp. There were little bitty plastic chairs around an oval-topped table that was covered with a plastic tablecloth with pictures of princesses dressed in pink all over it. The ceiling was painted with blue and white balloons, and in the middle of the room there was a five-foot-long folding screen with life-size
Cinderella
characters painted on either side.

Gaz burst out laughing.

“I thought you said this was a multipurpose party room,” Alicia sputtered.

“It is,” Ms. Seager said. “When the birthday child is a boy, we put up red and black balloons, and we bring out our Spider-Man screen. We also do a very exciting experiment with real spiders. The kids
love
it.”

“Are there any other party spaces?” Alicia asked, trying hard not to hyperventilate.

“No, my dear,” Ms. Seager said. “This is it. It's just been renovated. What's the matter? Do you think your little girl won't like it?”

Alicia had gone to a yoga class with Carmen and her mom once. Right now, she knew she needed to do yoga breaths. But she couldn't remember how to do yoga breaths. She felt as if she were going to pass out. She put a hand against the wall to steady herself. She needed to think. This was the first big hiccup in their planning—and Alicia did not deal well with hiccups.

The planetarium was awesome. Having the
quince
guests arrive in the fancy museum lobby would set just the right tone. The room was a little small, but they could fit the guests in it—maybe. Okay, who was she fooling? Sarita would just have to trim her guest list. Alex would do an awesome set design and it would still be the hotness. Most important, the price was right. Five hundred dollars for the room rental
and
the planetarium show. She could make it work. She
had
to make it work.

“What kind of flexibility do we have with the room?” Alicia asked. “We'd like to bring in a band.”

“Oh, no,” Ms. Seager said. “We couldn't have that. Too loud. This is a museum, after all.”

“How about a DJ?” Gaz asked, trying not to sound too annoyed. “Someone to play records, at a reasonable volume.”

Ms. Seager considered the notion. “That may be permissible,” she said. “I'd have to look into it.”

Alicia smiled thinly. “Okay, so we'd like to reserve the room for six hours. From six p.m. to midnight.”

The director let out a giggle. “Midnight! We'd all turn into pumpkins,” she said.

Alicia sighed. “Okay, how about six p.m. to eleven p.m.?”

“Oh, no,” Ms. Seager said. “That isn't possible, either. There are only two time slots for our birthday bashes, ten a.m. to one p.m., or two p.m. to five p.m. The museum closes at six, and the staff needs ample time to clean up afterward.”

The museum closed at six? How had Alicia missed that detail?

“Are there no exceptions? Not even for special occasions?” she asked, her hope fading.

“None whatsoever,” Ms. Seager said. “Rules are rules, you know.”

Alicia was crushed. She had no plan B, and Sarita's
quince
was only weeks away. “I'm sorry, it's just not going to work,” she said softly.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” Ms. Seager said. “I'd still be glad to offer you and your husband tickets to the three p.m. Night Sky show in our planetarium.”

“We'd love them,” Gaz said.

“We'd love them, but we can't,” Alicia said sternly.

Back in the car, Alicia banged her head against Gaz's dashboard.

“Just shoot me,” she said.

“No need,” Gaz answered. “I have an idea.”

“Good,” Alicia said. “I want to hear it.”

“It's a space-themed
quince
, right?” Gaz said.

Alicia nodded.

“And where do real rockets leave from, right here in Florida?”

“Cape Canaveral,” Alicia said. “But that's, like, a six-hour drive away, and I don't even know if they have a party space.”

Gaz rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you're just a little slow. Sweet, but slow.
Where
is Cape Canaveral located?”

“Orlando?” Alicia asked. Maybe Gaz was right. Maybe she was slow. Because at this particular moment, she was very, very confused.

“No, Einstein, the beach,” Gaz said. “Cape Canaveral is on the beach.”

Alicia smiled, finally getting it. “It doesn't cost any money to have a party on the beach.”

“You just need a permit,” Gaz said.

“And I
do
work at City Hall,” Alicia said, grinning. “I love it, Gaz, thank you!”

She threw her arms around him, and maybe it was her imagination, but when he hugged her back, it felt as if he lingered for just a few seconds longer than necessary.

“There's only one problem,” Alicia said. “If we have it on the beach, then there's no place to hang the harness for Sarita's astronaut dance.”