Summer Dreams (3 page)

"Oh, Abuelita, I wish it were that simple. We've grown apart too. He doesn't like the same things I do. He wants to go to parties and on exotic vacations with hordes of people. I want quiet dinners and symphony concerts."

"You should introduce him to Sonia. They sound well suited."

She laughed in spite of herself. "But I want a family, and I thought Hector wanted one, too, but he doesn't seem to be in any rush."

"Men never are. Biology is on their side. For women, it's different."

Again, her grandmother had cut to the heart of the matter. A woman couldn't wait too long to start a family. Though now with the medical advances available, she still had plenty of time, but she wanted to be young enough to enjoy her children. And the society whirl Hector craved left her cold. If he did make his fortune, it would only worsen.

The Garcías, though they'd lost their fortune a couple of decades ago, was still one of the most prominent Latino families in Dallas. They spent their time going to one empty social event after another. If she married Hector, his family would expect them to follow their lead. It wasn't the simple life she'd envisioned for herself.

"So, it's over. I see you're not wearing
that
ring," Pura said.

Natalia winced at the way her grandmother said
that
ring. She knew Pura, like Esteban, hadn't approved of it. Her grandmother had even called it flashy, which loosely translated, meant her
abuela
had thought it was in poor taste.

A part of Natalia agreed. Ironically, the ring had symbolized all that had been wrong between her and Hector. How different their values had been. There was that word again, values. The same word Pura had used when talking about Sonia. Were values really the most important thing? More important than love?

She wished she could ask Pura if she'd shared the same values as Miguel, but she refrained, not wanting to bring fresh grief. Her
abuela
loved to talk about her husband, but after she did so, she would become quiet for several days.

"I told Hector our engagement was over before I left. He didn't believe me. He told me to think it over this summer. I forgot to return his ring, but when I left home, I took it off, knowing I couldn't wear it any longer. It wouldn't be honest." Her lips quirked in a mirthless smile. "I'll return it when I go back home."

"You should hock it and keep the money."

"Pura!"

Her grandmother poured the beaten eggs into the cast-iron skillet and lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "He took your time with his half-baked schemes. The money would be little enough."

"I couldn't."

Pura watched the eggs settle in the skillet before adding diced, fresh tomatoes, cilantro, onions, and peppers. She patted Natalia's hand and said, "I know. Your values would get in the way." She smiled and directed, "The chorizo needs turning or it'll burn. And would you put some bread in the oven for toast,
por favor
."

Nodding, Natalia followed her instructions, wondering how she should broach the delicate subject that had been rolling around her mind since yesterday. But she didn't have to bring it up because her grandmother did it for her.

"Did Esteban notice your missing engagement ring?"

She jumped at the question and almost dropped the bread. Sometimes, it was eerie, the way Pura could zero in on what she was thinking. "
Sí
, he did."

"Not too much
mantequilla
on the toast, Nieta." Her grandmother patted the slight bulge below her waist and giggled. "I need to watch my girlish figure."

"Oh, Abuelita, the more calories the better you like it."

With the cooking complete, they piled their plates high. The golden omelet with its dusting of veggies and spices shimmered on their plates. Natalia's mouth watered. She'd missed her grandmother's cooking.

Natalia cut a wedge from the omelet and followed it with a bite of chorizo, washed down by hand-squeezed orange juice. Not only was her grandmother a marvelous cook, Natalia couldn't hope to duplicate the freshness of the ingredients in the city, unless she went to the Farmer's Market each day. Not an option because there was never enough hours in her day with teaching and grading papers and talking to students and parents.

After she'd shoveled in the last bite of omelet, Natalia leaned back from the table with a sigh. Now she felt fortified and ready to tackle the delicate subject she'd avoided before.

"Esteban noticed my missing engagement ring," Natalia took up the broken thread of their conversation. "And he asked me out." She gazed at Pura. "What do you think?"

Raising her eyebrows, Pura said, "I think it was inevitable."

"What do you mean?"

"Two young people who have known each other since childhood. Who have liked each other since childhood," she added. "One a man, the other a woman, it's inevitable." She shrugged. "A given, written in the stars, if you like."

So direct before, her
abuela
had resumed her round-about form of discussion, and this time, it frustrated Natalia. She was so confused about her feelings that her grandmother's abstract theorizing didn't really help. Nope, she wanted answers.

"I don't care if it's inevitable or not. I asked you what you think."

"Think? Think? At seventy years old, I should think about this? You give this old lady too much credit. I think Esteban would have asked you before if you hadn't come here, waving that ring like a pennant." She took a bite of toast. "But if you're asking me what I think of you going out with Esteban, I don't think anything. It's your life and your decision."

Natalia sank deeper in her chair, disappointed by Pura's response. For someone who loved to gossip, her
abuela
had a curious habit of keeping apart from her family's doings.

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea. Too much of a chance that it would turn into a rebound relationship," Natalia said. "Besides," she continued, splaying her fingers on the tabletop and studying her manicured nails, "our being friends would just muddy the water. What happens if we don't like going out together? It could ruin our friendship. I don't want to lose Esteban as a friend."

Pura shrugged again and replied, "As you say."

Chapter Two

Natalia studied Esteban's long, lean legs. Like disembodied parts, they stuck out from beneath Pura's ancient Chevy truck. Her grandmother had mentioned that something was wrong with the pickup's transmission, and Esteban had volunteered to take a look at it.

She stared at his muscular legs outlined in his skin-tight jeans, and her heart squeezed at the thought of turning him down, even though she knew she had to do it. Since she'd been old enough to care how she looked, she'd been attracted to Esteban. His bad-boy good looks were hard to dismiss. And there was a certain electrical current that surrounded him, too, as if the very air sizzled when he was near. Girls and then women flocked to him, making Natalia feel strangely immature, although she was older by two years.

Older by two years and so different.

She wanted to marry a man like her father, a professional man with his feet on solid ground. One who could provide for and nurture a family properly. 

She had thought she had found the perfect match in Hector, but he'd changed, veering from the simple promise of their youth. But just because he hadn't been the one, didn't mean she should get involved with someone else, someone ill-suited to her.

But, oh, how she dreaded telling Esteban no. And the longer she put her refusal off, the better, so she didn't say anything, just waited patiently. She half-listened as he mumbled to himself, probably about guy things doing with the insides of an automobile. Esteban was so male, so testosterone loaded that sometimes she wondered how they'd remained friends without getting involved already. Probably she wasn't his type, either.

Then why had he asked her out? Oh, no, not a pity ploy---not that. She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. A part of her wanted to run away and not face the possibility that his offer had been from pity. But she couldn't do that, either, she had to give him an answer. Had to face down her worst fears, so she stood rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in her ears.

After a few minutes, Esteban finally scooted out and sat up, but he didn't glance at her. Instead, his head was bent over his toolbox, the sun picking out glints of gold tints in his buzz-cut, brown hair. Two days of bearded stubble on his jaw lent him a rakish air. 

He grabbed a rag from his jeans' pocket and swiped at the grease on his face, succeeding in smearing it. If she hadn't been so tense about refusing him, she would have laughed. As it was, she stayed perfectly still, waiting for him to notice her.

When he finally looked up, his gray eyes widened and his pupils dilated. He grinned and scrambled to his feet. He wiped his right hand on his jeans and started to take her hand, but then he stopped. "You caught me at a bad time. I'm covered with grease. Were you looking for me?" 

Natalia swallowed, and it was as if someone had forced a wad of cottonballs down her throat. Gulping, she said, "Don't apologize. Pura is happy you're trying to fix her pickup and save her the money for a mechanic. You don't need to apologize," she repeated.

"And?" He scowled. 

She realized that he knew what was coming, but at least, he didn't look relieved. Maybe he hadn't asked her out of compassion. She certainly hoped not, but she still had to turn him down. Say it and get it over with. "I can't go out with you."

"Won't," he argued.

"Won't then," she agreed.

"What does Pura think?"

How did he know she'd talked to her grandmother about him asking her out? She sighed.  Of course he knew. He was practically family.

"Pura wouldn't say. She thinks she's too old to have an opinion," Natalia replied.

"I see."

"
Bueno
. Then you understand."

"No
entiendo
," he contradicted. "But I'm willing to wait. I've waited a long time already."

That certainly didn't sound like pity to her. She shivered in the warm mountain air and crossed her arms over her chest. His declaration raised goose bumps on her arms. She bit her lip and looked down.

So her grandmother had been right. He would have asked her out before if she hadn't been engaged. She found that hard to believe. Esteban, the sexy, bad-boy wanted to date her? The thought was extremely flattering, but it didn't make sense.

She shook herself, wanting to banish the gooseflesh on her arms. Esteban was good-hearted and kind to her
abuela
, but his past left a great deal to be desired. If it hadn't been for Pura, he would probably be in the penitentiary. What was she thinking, even considering his sex appeal or good looks?

"I guess that's all."

He crossed one leg in front of the other, thrusting his jean-clad hip out. She remembered the feel of his body against hers---remembered it all too well. And his lips moving on hers, sweet and terrible at the same time. Did he guess how he affected her? Was that what lent him his air of self-confidence, of almost swaggering self-assurance. 

"I'll be waiting," he repeated. And with one fluid motion, he dropped to the ground and disappeared beneath the pickup again, burying himself in its mechanical guts.

She willed her feet to move, but they didn't obey. Head down, she studied his legs again.  Their muscled hardness strained against the frayed denim. He was so sure of himself, so sure of her. As if he knew she would eventually fall, like a ripe plum, into his outstretched arms.

But it wasn't that simple. No, she and Esteban weren't simple at all.

***

The tinny tinkle of "La Bomba" cut through the quiet night. Natalia dropped the textbook she'd been trying to read and fished her cell phone from her purse.

Clicking it on accept, she said, "
Bueno
."

"¿Qué tal?
Is that you, Natalia? It's Sonia."

"
Cómo esta
."

"
Muy bien
. How's New Mexico?"

"The same as always."

"How was your trip?" 

What was this about, it wasn't like her sister to call and make small talk. "I'm fine. Are Mami
y
Papi okay?" She couldn't keep the note of worry from her voice.

Sonia laughed. "They're fine,
mi hermana
. Why must you always think the worst?"

"I don't always think the worst. But you don't usually call unless you want something or there's been a catastrophe."

Sonia giggled. "Okay, Sis, you got me there. You're right. I did call for a reason."

"So, spit it out."

"I need to tell Pura. Is she there?" 

Natalia knew what was coming, and she should admonish Sonia for her lack of familial devotion, but it really wasn't her place.

"Pura's here, but she's sleeping in the recliner out front. And I hate to wake her. You called on my cell. Why didn't you call her home phone? You know how she feels about cell phones."

Sonia sighed. "Okay, I got it. I'll call her back tomorrow on her home phone."

"You're not coming in August, are you?"

"How did you know?"

Natalia gritted her teeth. "Good guess on my part."

"Well, it's not definite. Some of my sorority sisters want to go backpacking in France, and I want to go, too." Her sister sniffed, just the tiniest sniff to arouse sympathy. "But Papi says I'll need to pay my own way. That I'll need to get a job and ..."

"I won't lend you the money," Natalia said without being asked.

"¿Por qué?
" Sonia's voice crept up an octave, bordering on a whine.

"Because I agree with Papi."

"Oh, you
are
hard," her sister's voice dropped to a hiss. "Just because your life is dreary, doesn't mean everyone else has to be dreary."

"I don't want to be hard, but I think---"

"No wonder you can't keep a man," Sonia said. "A man doesn't want a cold-blooded calculator to hold. You're so serious-mined that you've forgotten how to have fun. Who wants to live with that?"