CHAPTER 11 #2
Silvia parked across the street from Omar’s house and studied her boyfriend.
He was sitting in the passenger seat and considering his home with a sullen expression.
He must feel like something was missing from inside those walls, now that Mamani was gone.
Of course, Silvia hadn’t helped by pressuring him into watching My Girl 2 at the theater, which didn’t deal with death nearly as much as the first movie did, but had constant undertones regardless.
Omar had been in high spirits until then…
In more than one way, since they had smoked a joint in her truck before eating at a Mexican buffet.
He’d made her try a bite of just about everything, always asking, “Is this authentic? What’s it called in Spanish?
” He liked her accent so much that Silvia laid it on extra thick, rolling her r’s even when she didn’t need to.
They got the giggles so bad toward the end of the meal that it was difficult to get any food down.
She wanted to return to that happy state of mind before their evening together ended, but getting him high again felt like cheating.
“I should be the one dropping you off,” Omar grumbled. “Is it lame that I don’t have my own car?”
“I like it,” Silvia said. “Otherwise you’d be one of those insufferable rich boys. Besides, there are benefits to me dropping you off.” She pulled the truck forward, parking a few houses down, amused by his puzzled expression. “This way, you can sneak me into your room.”
Omar perked up. “Really?”
“Yes. My parents have never been big on curfews. I have time.”
They still hadn’t slept together since Mamani’s death. Silvia yearned for the closeness. Especially since she’d been so busy lately, having to catch up on all she had missed in her new Business Law class.
“My folks are probably in bed already,” Omar said. “I bet nobody will notice.”
She smiled at him. “Then what are we waiting for?”
They raced across the front yard together, stifling laughter, and forced themselves to sober up as he unlocked the front door.
“Better let me go first to make sure the coast is clear.”
She nodded.
He stepped into the entryway and glanced around before gesturing for her to follow. Omar shut the door behind them as quietly as possible. Then he turned, his shoe squeaking on the linoleum. A light switched on in the upstairs hallway a few seconds later, his mother’s voice calling out.
“Omar? Is that you?”
With wide eyes, he pointed at the darkened living room. Silvia scurried in that direction.
“Yeah, Mom. It’s me. I just got home. I’m going straight to bed.”
Silvia heard the stairs creak. Mrs. Jafari spoke again, her voice sounding closer. “Tell me about your date! How did it go?”
Not wanting to be seen, Silvia moved to the dining room. The kitchen light was on ahead. A clattering noise came from that direction, like something had been tossed in the sink. Silvia froze.
“Dinner and a movie,” Omar was saying somewhere behind her. “Simple as that.”
“You couldn’t have worn a dress shirt?” his mother chastised.
It sounded like she had come all the way downstairs. A shadow moved across the kitchen wall. Silvia was trapped!
“We wanted to keep it casual. That was her idea.”
A figure filled the doorway ahead. Silvia moved toward the dining room table, intending to hide underneath it but was too late. The dining room light switched on. Silvia winced against the brightness. Then she saw Yasmin standing there, her mouth an “O” of surprise.
“Did you get enough to eat?” Mrs. Jafari asked her son.
“Plenty, Mom.”
“Because we have leftovers.”
“I just want to go up to my room. I’m really tired.”
“That’s fine. I am too. I need a drink first.”
Yasmin gestured, like she wanted Silvia to follow her. What choice did she have? They rushed through the kitchen and into the hallway on the other side. A door led to the backyard, escaping out it her first instinct, but Yasmin urged her forward past a bathroom and laundry to the basement stairs.
“Mom always makes sure the back door is locked before she goes to bed,” Yasmin whispered. “She might have seen you out there.”
“Thanks.” Silvia headed down the darkened stairs, praying that none of them would creak.
The voices grew distant as she reached the bottom.
A nightlight illuminated the hallway. She felt a pang of sorrow as she crept down the hall to Mamani’s old living room, which was empty now except for a large U-shaped couch.
Somehow this made her death feel more real.
Silvia hadn’t gone to the funeral or visited Mamani in the hospital.
She still imagined Omar’s grandmother as the feisty old woman who radiated independence.
Now the traces of her life were slowly disappearing.
Part of Silvia understood the practical reasons why.
The rest wanted to cling to whatever remained.
“Hey,” a voice said softly from behind her.
She spun around.
Omar padded near, his eyes moving over the dark and barren living room. “Sucks, huh?”
“Yeah,” Silvia whispered. “It does. I miss her.”
“Me too.” Omar swallowed. “Maybe this is a bad idea. What we’re about to do, I mean. What would Mamani think?”
“The woman who left her country to be with the man she loved?” Silvia placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him.
When she pulled back, the sorrow on his face had been replaced by hunger. “Okay, but not here. Actually…” He peered at the couch, as if considering the possibility.
“Not here,” Silvia repeated warmly. “Take me to your room.”
She followed him upstairs. They had more luck on their second attempt. The house remained dark and silent. They reached his bedroom safely.
“Where are all my balloons?” she quietly teased, referencing the previous year.
“All I’ve got to offer you is my body,” Omar replied with a toothy grin that gave way to a somber expression. “And my heart.”
He was so sweet. Silvia rewarded him with a kiss.
He reciprocated before they hastily undressed each other.
His gaze moved over her, like this was the first time he had seen her nude.
She admired his body just as much. The strong chest, his thick mane of hair, the eagerness between his legs.
They touched each other while kissing. She wouldn’t have minded continuing in that fashion for quite some time, like they used to.
But when he opened a dresser drawer and took out a condom, what he wanted became apparent, her own desire tingling in response.
They got into bed together and sought the most comfortable position.
She was growing accustomed to this. Sex no longer hurt, like the first few times, but pleasure remained elusive.
There were flashes here and there, especially when she arched her back and pulled him close so his pecs rubbed against her nipples.
If she moved her hips just right, she could make do, but of all the ways they could sleep together, this wasn’t her preference.
The emotional aspect pleased her. Giving herself to him got her off psychologically. But that was about it.
Omar grunted, his body tensing. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, like he was drunk on pleasure. Silvia wondered what she was missing. Maybe sex felt better for guys than it did girls. He collapsed onto her, his chest heaving. Then he lifted his head and kissed her.
“I love you so much,” he murmured against her lips.
“I love you too,” she said truthfully, feeling it in her heart.
Omar crawled off. She rolled onto her side.
He came back, cuddling up against her from behind.
This was often her favorite part. They had reconnected.
His strong arm felt good around her. She squirmed against his torso, wanting more.
Her lack of satisfaction might be normal.
Maybe that’s what kept people coming back.
Or they were doing something incorrectly.
Who could she ask though? Not her mother!
Mindy was still a virgin, and as for Keisha…
Silvia could imagine what her advice would be. The thought sent a thrill through her. She grasped Omar’s hand and moved it south until he got the hint. Then it was her turn to moan while a scenario played out in her thoughts, the guilt swiftly drowned out by pleasure.