3. Maritza
THREE
MARITZA
“Where are you going tonight?” Mariella asks me while curling a piece of my hair in the back. “What are the plans? Give me the scoop, hermana.”
I shrug as I continue pressing the sponge to my face applying foundation. “He didn’t say. Just asked to take me out tonight.”
She lets out a laugh, “hermana, you can’t do this. You know the rules. I need the details, all of them, and location turned on. We can’t be too safe these days.” She’s my baby sister, but she can sometimes be smother mother. “You’re beautiful, smart, and a trafficker would love to gobble you up.”
Now I laugh, “Johnathon is nothing to worry about. He’s an accountant for goodness sakes. I will leave my location on, like always, chill out. And no one is going to scoop me up to traffic me.”
“I was watching that documentary.” She shakes her head at me. “Famous last words.”
I laugh, “you watch too much television. I have my pepper spray. I keep my eyes open and ears aware. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying, Mom.”
She releases the curl she is working on, “umm there is that movie about the accountant and he’s a psycho for the people who matter and the right price.”
“I was here, hermana, I watched the movie right beside you with Dia. I promise you; our family will be the ones to go psycho to find me if Johnathon doesn’t return me home safe and sound. And I’ll even make sure it’s before midnight, so I don’t turn into a pumpkin or lose a shoe or anything.”
“No offense, Maritza, but your track record in choosing good guys is umm, not so good. There is a reason for me to be concerned and you know it.”
“I met him at a job fair for school, he’s tame. Literally, he’s glasses, button up shirts, bow ties, and pocket protectors.”
She shakes her head at me and keeps curling my hair. “Bow ties are making a comeback. They can be sexy.”
“Where the hell do you come up with this shit?” I laugh.
“Romance novels, you should try them. Ties are hot, and can be used in many ways,” she jokes.
Mariella is my sister, only two years younger than me, she is my best friend. When it comes to my love life, she’s always honest with me. When I’ve had my heart broken by young love, she held my hand and dried my tears. When I got myself in a situation with a man who had ill intentions, she was there to ice my wounds and cover my bruises while I filed the report to keep him away. Thick and thin, she’s always looking out for me.
She’s been my sidekick from the day she was born. First boyfriends, first kiss, she’s been my confidant and picked me back up when a boy did me wrong.
My so-called high school sweetheart, she hated him from the beginning. I didn’t listen and I ended up with a broken heart and he got a broken nose courtesy of my sister. I sigh thinking back.
“Not like this, Bobby.” I mutter pulling away. We’re in my room and I shouldn’t have let him even come inside. My parents are at work, and I’m not supposed to let anyone come over while they aren’t home. Bobby is my boyfriend. We have been together almost a year. He wants to take things further.
I thought I was ready.
I’m not.
Now it’s time to give in and I can’t do it.
Except he keeps trying. Kissing me, hands down my pants, then up my shirt. I push against his chest while pulling my head away from his.
“I’m not ready for this Bobby. Not here, not like this. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Come on Maritza, I’m ready. You can’t leave me hanging, hard and no relief.”
“Bobby, I said not here, not now. I didn’t say no ever.”
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. He tries to kiss me again, I pull away.
“No.”
“Yes,” he mutters moving in pinning me to the bed with his weight over me.
His hand goes down my pants again. “I can make it good for you.”
Panic seizes me. I love him. How is this happening?
I shove at him, he pushes in closer, his mouth to mine, stifling my words. Bawling up my fists, I pound against his chest as the fear grips me. I try and fail to roll us over. He has me under him with all the control.
“She said no!” Mariella yells coming into my room.
Immediately, Bobby pulls away. I take the moment to jump up from my bed and away from him. He stands, his erection making a tent in his pants. He stalks over to us as I stand beside my sister.
“She said no, Bobby,” she reminds him. “You need to go home.”
“And if I don’t?” he taunts.
“Bobby, don’t make this worse, just go home,” I plead.
He steps into our space. “Maybe I’ll just let Mariella here watch as you give it up. Maritza, you said you wanted this as much as me.”
He’s right I did say that. Only when it came down to it, I couldn’t. I shake my head speechless. How can he say he loves me and talk to me like this?
“Don’t be a dick tease.”
“If that isn’t the most teenage boy thing to say,” Mariella challenges him.
Closing in on my sister, everything happens so fast and in slow motion at the same time. Her hand curls up into a fist, she swings, connecting with Bobby’s face. Blood immediately shoots everywhere.
He takes off muttering, “not worth the trouble anymore, it’s over.”
Just like that a year of being in love is gone. So is his picture-perfect straight nose.
The next day at school, he told anyone who would listen I broke his nose while he was eating me out because I was pushing so hard on his face. I didn’t correct the lie. I didn’t care. Heartbreak numbed me, I guess. Or maybe I didn’t care what anyone willing to believe his lie thought. I knew my truth.
I thought I would be with him forever. Then forever only made it to third base. Bobby is in prison now. Serving time for a break in at his workplace. Not his first incarceration. He likes to steal things apparently and he doesn’t seem to be very good since he keeps getting caught. I dodged a bullet getting away from him. Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck at the time.
Mariella held me while I cried, rented every comedy she could find, and ate popcorn and snacks with me every night for a week. Once we ran out of good comedies, she moved on to action movies and it became our new Friday night ritual. Movie, snacks, and sisterhood. When I moved out, it became a thing to have Dia join us for movie night.
When Bobby was arrested, Mariella somehow learned of it first. She brought home cupcakes from a local bakery, and we celebrated. It’s not in my nature to celebrate someone else’s pain. I can’t explain why I did it, but I did, and I enjoyed laughing at his troubles. Plus, frosting makes everything feel better, right?
Maybe it’s why I have bad luck in love now. Karma of sorts for finding joy in his misery. I was wrong to enjoy his downfall. Some wounds cut deep. I thought he was someone special. I thought we had this love. The kind like my parents.
I was wrong.
We were far too young, immature, and I was na?ve. There was no way it would last even if we had sex.
I can see it clearly now. In the moment, I was shattered. He was the first person I opened up to. I shared my secrets, my insecurities, my dreams. He wasn’t mature enough and neither was I. We weren’t meant to be.
Sure, I’ve dated since then, but not much. I don’t mind being alone. Connection matters and so far, I haven’t been lucky enough to find someone I can build a friendship with.
The doorbell rings and I smile to my sister as she spritzes my hair with holding spray and I give my makeup a mist of setting solution.
“He’s on time,” she mutters. “That is an improvement over the biker boy.”
“Oh my God, Mariella, stop it.” We both laugh. “He was late because dad and a few of his brothers literally ran him down on his way here. They had their chat, and he came to the door just to say, ‘ I’m sorry I’m late, but I can’t do this .’ And ran like he was afraid for his life!” This was a lesson in don’t date bikers of any type. He rode a sport bike for crying out loud, but that didn’t give my dad any reason to think he was safe for me.
“I like dad’s way of doing things, chase them off but with respect to face you.” She states before leaving me at the vanity and going to let my date in.
“Hello,” she greets as I exit my room.
At my front door stands Johnathon wearing a pair of dress slacks, a button up shirt, and a Mister Rogers sweater. His hair is parted to the side, tamed by gel, with his usual round framed glasses over his hazel eyes, and a smile bright taking me in. I grin in return making my way over as he extends his hand holding a small bouquet of flowers.
“Johnathon, meet my sister, Mariella.” I introduce stepping up and taking the flowers, “these are beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you, Maritza,” he states as my sister groans.
“So original this one,” she chastises. “You two have fun,” she tells me with a sarcastic tone.
“Stop,” I whisper, “this matters.”
She gives me a fake smile as I move in to give Johnathon a side hug. He presses his lips to my temple. He smells nice at least. I’m not sure how I feel about this sweater thing he has going on. I’m no fashionista but I’m not sure this is a trend that needs to return.
I pass the flowers on to my sister, “put those in water please. We’re headed out. I’ll keep you posted on where I’m at and when I’ll be back.”
“I’ll track your phone; don’t you worry about that.” She reminds me but looks at Johnathon. “Can’t be too safe these days.”
I want to laugh. I don’t. She’s not going to track my phone; she’s going to track my necklace. The little locket serves a dual purpose. Not only does it hold a picture of my sister, brother, and I from my childhood, but it contains a chip where my sister, the computer genius, can track me. Safety is big to her and knowing what she went through, I get it, and I won’t ever put her in a situation to worry about me if I can help it.
Johnathon takes me by the hand, leading me from my condo to the parking lot.
“Maritza,” I hear my name and look to see Dia coming my way.
“Hey Dia, how ya doing?” I greet her as she gives me a quick side hug.
“Long day at work. I’m sure Skye is dying to go out now. I was wondering if you’d be joining Mariella and I for facials tonight.” She smiles sweetly at Johnathon, “but I guess I have my answer.”
“I don’t know I might be home before y’all finish. I have work tomorrow so can’t have too late of a night,” I tell her honestly and feel Johnathon tense beside me. “This is Johnathon, we’re headed out for dinner.” I look to my date, “this is Dia, she’s my sister’s best friend, but one of my closest friends too. I guess you could say we have joint custody of her.”
It might hurt his feelings, but it’s the truth. I’ll be home early and not just because I have to work tomorrow. I don’t have sex on the first date. I don’t even go back to a dude’s house on the first date. One thing I’ve learned between my own relationships and what happened to my sister, don’t set myself up for a situation that can get out of hand. Always maintain my safety and stay in places where I have the advantage. A new location, such as someone else’s home, adds an additional danger to a potentially unsafe situation.
“Alright, you two kids have fun. Nice to meet you, Johnathon,” she tells him extending her hand in greeting.
“Pleasure is all mine, Dia.” Johnathon tells her before she walks away. “She seems sweet,” he tells me guiding me along the way to his car.
“They broke the mold when Dia Crews was born. She’s the best. Everyone loves her.”
“You have a lot of people who care about you,” he states as we approach a small sedan. He opens the champagne-colored door, and I slide in.
“I’m very lucky for my family, Dia included.”
He doesn’t reply as he rounds the small car and gets in the driver’s seat. He starts the car, and we pull away. The silence is uncomfortable for me, but he seems fine with it. A few minutes pass and I can’t help but want there to be something said.
“Where are we going for dinner?”
“I thought we could go to the new ice-cream parlor.”
For dinner? I think but don’t ask. “Okay, sounds good. Who doesn’t love ice-cream?” I aim to ease this weirdness between us.
“Someone who is dairy free,” he responds dryly.
Umm … he’s not wrong, but what can I say back to that. We sit in silence a few more moments but thankfully arrive at the new place quickly.
“Sit tight,” he tells me before getting out and rounding his car to open my door. At least he’s trying to do the traditional gentlemen things.
We enter the small shop in the strip mall. The walls are painted in pastel pink and green with a glass display and a bar with old school diner style stools in front of it. Johnathon leads me to a booth in the back rather than to the counter to order. I find it odd but decide to roll with how this goes.
My last date said I had too much masculine energy and didn’t know how to let a man be a man. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do, release control.
Although, I wonder how he knows what I want to eat.
Taking my seat, I wait for him to come back over and I’m a little shocked when he takes a seat beside me, essentially trapping me in the booth.
He places the banana split boat in front of us, along with the cup of water with two straws.
“I don’t eat pineapple,” he explains, “I had them give us two chocolates instead.”
I nod unsure what to say as he hands me a spoon. Rather than dive in, I reach for the glass.
“The shorter straw is yours,” he states taking a spoonful of the ice-cream. “Water is free here, but only one cup. Your straw is the shorter one.”
I nod taking a sip. What in the world have I gotten into? I contemplate getting my own order, when he slurps the vanilla treat from his spoon into his mouth.
Immediately, my stomach churns from the noise. How old is this man to slurp his food? Not that I was turned on to begin with, but with every passing moment, I am ready to get home.
He continues to eat not noticing that I haven’t had a single bite. He finishes in silence before taking the drink and making sure he sucks down every drop to the point that the straw makes the obnoxious noise of an empty glass.
After he slides from the booth and stands, I follow suit, thankful that this is another moment closer to home and pajamas. When he takes me by the hand to leave, I am beyond ready. “I bought the meal; you have the tip?” He asks gesturing for me to leave cash on the table.
Tip for what? We didn’t get table service. Rather than drag things on more, I reach in my purse, grabbing my wallet, and tossing down a five-dollar bill. Then he guides me out and to his car.
“Would you like to walk on the beach? It’s free parking after dark.”
“As nice as that sounds, I have to work in the morning. I’m opening the office.” He doesn’t seem disappointed, just nods as we take off.
Pulling into the parking lot of the condo complex, I resist the urge to jump from the car. When he comes around and opens the door to let me out, he only gives me enough room to stand. Pinned between him and the car, I feel the panic rising.
“I had a good time,” he says barely above a whisper.
I nod but don’t speak.
Is he going to kiss me? This is the worst first date in the history of my first dates. I don’t want to kiss him. I want to forget he exists. The thoughts about getting inside race as his head dips closer to me.
Turning, I give him my cheek.
“Can I take you out again sometime?” he asks.
Before I can reply, I hear footsteps. I look over to see Anna coming with Hollis at her heels.
“Maritza, thank God! I tried to call. I can’t do it. I have the biggest headache. I need you to take him.”
Using this chance, I press my hands to Johnathon’s chest pushing him away to get space. Having the reprieve, I make my way to little Hollis who now takes off in a run to me. “Zizi,” he calls out with his hands in the air for me to swing him around. We’ve done this since he started walking.
“What’s wrong, Anna?” I ask, “where is Dillon?”
She looks to the sky. “He’s on a run, he says. Who knows. He left me to raise our kid alone. I can’t get Hollis to stop running around the house making messes and I have a headache. I need a break.” She’s speaking out of breath with a frustrated tone that tells me she is at her wits end.
I nod, “okay, Anna, calm down. I got him.”
I look over my shoulder to Johnathon. “Have a goodnight, I have to get him inside and to bed.”
Anna looks to my date and back to me, “not at all who I expected to see take you out,” she mutters to no one in particular.
I don’t know what the hell that means. I don’t care either. Never did I think I would use a kid as an escape from a man, but here we are. I’m grateful for Anna’s headache, or temper tantrum, or whatever else this is.
“He’s welcome to stay with me until Dillon gets back, Anna,” I inform her watching Johnathon get back into his car.
“Thank you,” she says before taking off almost running to her car while I have a wiggling toddler in my arms.
I wave as first Johnathon pulls away and then Anna.
“You’re better company than either of them,” I tell Hollis as I carry him to my condo. “I’ll keep you safe from facials tonight, buddy. And we aren’t having ice-cream, but definitely, I need to eat, and you probably do too.”
He doesn’t say anything as I place him down inside the doorway. My sister and Dia are in her room, I can hear them as I go to the kitchen to get something for Hollis and myself to eat.
“Yes, definitely much better company with you,” I tell him as he smiles at me.
“My Zizi,” he mumbles as I get the mac and cheese in the microwave.
I look over to him, “my Hollis.”
Even if he isn’t mine, he’s, my Hollis. Always and forever, this little boy has a piece of my heart.