Chapter 3 #2
“We remember, Rafey. But life goes on. Your father, more than anyone, would say that.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like anyone remembers him, Mama. Always at the family gatherings, there were things he liked, like domestic beer...”
“And hamburgers and American desserts that made his sugar rise.” Carmela made a face and laughed.
“I like American desserts as well,” he told her. “I’m American.”
“You are American, but you are also Cuban, Rafey. Here.” She touched his chest. “You were born in this country, you are a true American. But don’t deny your heritage simply to honor your father. Honor him by living a good life. And be happy. That is all he would want for you.”
She patted his hand again and went to join his sisters.
Rafe headed to the bar and had the bartender pour him a bourbon. Sometimes he didn’t know who he was. White, like his father and American as apple pie and fast-food restaurants? Or Cuban, with big family dinners on Sunday and pastelitos?
The job made it easier. On the job, he didn’t think about his culture or who he was.
He was an FBI agent, dedicated to taking down the bad guys.
Maybe that was why the job was his life.
Maybe his grandmother was right. He avoided his family because they brought up an aspect of his life he couldn’t face.
The job mattered most right now because, Cuban or American, he was the best person to take down Hector Hernandez. Rafe knew everything about the man, and putting him behind bars would make Miami safer for everyone. The beauty salon raid was only the tip of a dangerous iceberg.
His thoughts drifted to Allison Lexington. Why was she there at the beauty salon? Seemed awfully suspicious.
He hoped like hell she wasn’t involved in something illegal. Because it would be a shame to put her pretty butt behind bars. To some, Allison being at the salon was only a matter of bad timing. But his gut told him otherwise.
Rafe had a bad feeling he was right.
Cousin Luis joined him at the bar, ordered a club soda. He grinned. “Why are you hiding? Did Ronnie threaten to fling a chancia at your head for being late?”
Rafe gave his cousin a pointed look. “Ronnie’s wearing heels, not flip-flops.”
“Ah, then you’re running away again from the fam?”
The question stung because it rang of truth.
Rafe shrugged, sipped the bourbon and watched Sofia dance with her father.
He smiled at the love in his brother-in-law’s eyes, the shining look on Sofia’s.
In a few years, she’d be off to college, maybe find love, marry and have a family. He wished only happiness for her.
“They’re all worried about you,” Luis said.
Rafe shot him a puzzled look. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Luis glanced at the bartender, gestured to the window. Apart from the crowd, his cousin spoke in rapid Spanish.
“Rafe, you could have died last year when you were shot. You don’t know, no one wanted to tell you, but we were certain...we’d lost you. And Tita, it broke her heart. She was saying rosaries day and night. Never left the hospital. You were always her favorite.”
Luis stated it as fact, without animosity.
Guilt struck him as he studied his grandmother, chattering happily as she arranged pastries on a plate instead of sitting and resting.
When he’d finally gained consciousness after the lengthy surgery, everyone had acted cheerful and happy.
No one told him how worried they’d been about his odds of survival.
“Tita wants to know when I’m going to settle down.” Rafe swirled the ice in his glass as if it held all the answers.
“You should. Or at least find a nice girl and date her.”
“I date.”
“No one you’ve ever introduced us to. Face it, Rafe, you adore women, but not to make a life with. I was like you, before I met my girl.” Luis gave a merry wave to his wife, dancing with one of his brothers.
“Everyone loves your Ana. They approve.”
“So find a nice girl to bring home to dinner.”
Rafe wanted to laugh. A nice girl. A woman who was professional, like his brother’s wife, who owned her own marketing firm. Or a doctor like his youngest sister, Julia. If the girl wasn’t a professional then she’d better be a devoted wife and mother like Ronnie.
“There’s got be to a woman out there for you,” Luis insisted.
“No one holds my interest that long,” he said.
Well, not true. One woman did—a Harley-riding, tough trauma nurse named Allison. Rafe’s mouth quirked into a smile as he remembered her—all passion and fire and vitriol.
“Ah! I see that smirk. There is someone you like! Who is it?” Luis pointed to him.
“She’s a biker and hung with an outlaw biker gang we eventually arrested for stealing jewels, running drugs and other assorted crimes. Should I invite her to Sunday dinner? Or would her boots clash with Ronnie’s designer stilettos?”
Luis gave him a speculative look. “Is this the woman who had something to do with loaning you my car for that FBI case?”
“Yes and no. She was working on the case, but under my supervision.”
“Ah. Hmm.” His cousin looked curious. Luis flashed him a knowing smile. “Working under you, eh?”
Rafe bristled at the double entendre. “Watch it, Luis. She’s not that kind of woman.”
Luis raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Yeah, she’s got you twisted in knots, coz. Good to see. You’re far too serious. You need a woman to shake you up.”
The bourbon he gulped left a trail of fire down his throat. Rafe took a deep breath to curb his temper. Luis was famous for teasing everyone. The bourbon took some of the edge off.
Family. He loved them, but damn, it was tough at times. Rafe set down his glass on the windowsill, then removed the doll from his jacket pocket and waved it.
“Excuse me. You accuse me of being too serious so I’m going to dance with my beautiful goddaughter. Or go play dolls if she’s too busy.”
Luis grinned as Rafe walked off, pocketing the doll.
Sofia had finished dancing with his brother-in-law and was taking a break to sip some sparkling cider. She spotted him and broke into a wide, welcoming smile. Much as she did when she was younger, she ran into his arms and hugged him tight.
“Uncle Rafey, I’m so glad you made it! I miss you.”
“I miss you as well.” He hugged her back.
“Let’s do a selfie.” She started to bring out her cell, then paused. “Or would that not be a good idea because you’re an agent? I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
Touched at her thoughtfulness, he smiled. “A selfie for you is fine. Just don’t post on social media because I don’t want your followers to mock your old uncle.”
They smiled into the camera together.
So tall. Beautiful. He thought of the bad things in the world and felt the familiar worry needle him.
“I’m sorry for missing your entrance and your baile de sorpresa.”
“Oh, it was so cool, Uncle Rafey! Everyone loved it. You should have seen the dance moves we did! But don’t worry, it’s on YouTube and TikTok.”
A lump formed in his throat. This is my life, watching my goddaughter grow up on a video instead of in real time.
“Princesa, you look beautiful. You outshine everyone here.”
She grinned at him.
“I want you to stay that way, hon. You know there’s all sorts of things that an unsuspecting teenager can get into...”
His niece looked up with an eye roll. “Is this the lecture about dangerous guys, drinking or drugs?”
Rafe sighed. “Drugs.”
“Bad bust today, huh?”
“We found some stuff,” he said vaguely.
“I’m a big girl, Uncle Rafey. I know all the street drugs, and I’d never even take a whiff of pot. I’m the least of your worries.”
She gestured to Elena on the sidelines. “Now, Tita, she’s the one we need to worry about. She doesn’t look well. I told Mama and Papi, but they said she’s tired from all the party preparation.”
Instead of dismissing her concerns as Julia and Ronnie were doing now, Rafe studied his grandmother. True, her color, even in the dim light, looked off.
But Elena sat down and seemed to regain her composure. Rafe made a decision.
“Let’s dance near her so she doesn’t suspect we’re keeping an eye on her. You know Tita. She’ll deny everything, but if we dance close by, we can monitor her.”
“Yes!”
Sofia put her hand on his shoulder and another on his waist. Emotion filled him.
He remembered a family event, not too long ago, where she danced on his shoes because he towered over her.
Now in stylish heels and with her mother’s statuesque height, she barely had to crane her neck to look up at him.
They waltzed to a lively tune, sticking to the edge of the dance floor.
Elena rose, waved at them. “Eat something, Rafey, when you’re finished.”
Before he could answer, she took two steps forward and gasped.
He ran forward, his heart hammering in his chest.
“Tita!” Sofia screamed.
He caught his grandmother in his arms as she collapsed.