14. ISABELLA
fourteen
“He didn’t pick up,” Anna pouts as she hands me back my phone.
“I’m sure he’ll call as soon as he sees the notification, munchkin.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Munchkin? Of all the cool nickname options I’ve given you, you decide to go off script and call me munchkin?” She sighs dramatically. “This is why I have to provide the adults with princess names. They’re hopeless without me.” She throws her hands up in the air as I pull her in for a side hug and suppress my laughter.
“I fear my Mateo has his hands full with this little one,” his mother says as she walks with us toward the awaiting SUV. “Serves him right. He was an absolute terror growing up. His toddler years were enough for his father and me to call it and decide that we couldn’t handle two Mateos running around, causing havoc. So if you’ve ever wondered why he’s an only child, now you know.” She chuckles, and so does the tall, muscular man in a suit next to her.
Not only do we have Hank, Mateo’s driver, moving us around town, we also have Charlie, Mateo’s head of security. He has short, black, perfectly combed hair and deep green eyes that assess every square inch around us as we walk.
His main job is supposed to be guarding Mateo at all times, but according to Bethzaida, Mateo asked for the best of the best to be put on security detail for Anna.
Doesn’t surprise me. The more I get to know Mateo, the more apparent it is that this man will go to any lengths for his daughter.
Charlie opens the back door for us to get in. Beth helps Anna settle into her middle booster seat as I round the car to the driver’s side, where Hank is waiting with a warm smile as he opens my door.
Once the five of us are settled, we pull into traffic and finally start our journey home.
We’ve finished having dinner at a local pizza joint that Bethzaida mentioned they love to eat at when they’re done with Anna’s ballet class. Before that, we stayed an extra hour in her classroom for after-school homework prep… homework prep for five-year-olds.
Yesterday, I saw her in action during her gymnastics class, and let’s just say that she has more than enough energy to burn off during these extracurricular activities.
Even if I still think her schedule is a bit overkill for a kindergartener.
Hell, it’s a bit much for me, a woman in her mid-twenties in a never-ending existential crisis, and I’m not even participating.
My phone starts ringing in my hand, and I see that it’s a video call from Mateo.
He has never video called me, but I guess since Anna previously tried him on FaceTime, he must have hit on the missed call without thinking.
I swipe to accept the call, and a moment later, his face comes up on the screen.
I hope the tiny puff of air that escaped my lips was inaudible, because we are all sitting pretty snug back here in the back row, and I’m sure nothing, and I mean nothing, would escape his mother’s chisme senses.
It looks like he’s standing outside somewhere, his face molded in concern. His eyes don’t stray from an exact spot on the screen. It’s unnerving to think that he’s looking at me that intensely, so I don’t. Maybe he has a poor signal and his video hasn’t turned on yet. Or maybe he’s not—
“Isabella, everything okay?”
Shit.
“Hi,” I croak, then quickly clear my throat. “Hey, Anna was trying to call you earlier.” Then I quickly shove my phone into Anna’s hands, where they rest on her lap.
Real fucking smooth, Isa.
“?Papi!” she squeals, and his face melts into a look of pure adoration. “I had a super fun day at school today. During recess, a few girls invited me to sit with them, and we made friendship bracelets. Look.” She brings her opposite wrist up into camera view and shows off the three colorful bracelets. “But they take a while to make, so we were thinking of maybe having a playdate soon so we can make them at home and then bring them to school. That way we can make enough for the whole class, and then everyone can feel like they have a friend.” She smiles as she looks down at her new jewelry.
My heart surges at her kindness.
Anna is many things. She can put you in your place in a funny, endearing way one moment, and the next, she’s thinking about how to make sure everyone feels included and cherished.
I know I haven’t spent much time with kids her age, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that she’s a special one.
Before Mateo has time to respond, because, like me, he clearly has hearts in his eyes, I lean in and give her wrist a light squeeze. “That is so incredibly nice of you, Anna. Your classmates are very lucky to have you.”
She moves the camera to include both of us in the frame and asks, “Can you ask Papi if we can do it at our house? That way, you’ll be there, and we’ll be able to make them together?” Her eyebrows shoot up eagerly.
“Anna, slow down there. First, I need to get into contact with their parents and see what we can work out.”
“Okay. And then—”
“And then,” he interrupts, “we’ll see if Isa is even working that day in order to supervise.”
“I don’t mind,” I chime in. A minute too late, I realize he’s probably accounting for me not having this job by this time next week. But hey, if he’s gonna get between the sacred experience of girls and their friendship bracelets, then he can shoot me down directly, right in front of his adorable kid. “Even if I’m not scheduled to work, I’d love to help the girls out. I’m sure it’d be super fun.” I smile at his cocked brow and ticked jaw.
I probably shouldn’t poke him, knowing I already have a strike to my name, but dammit, it feels good to push back a bit, even if it comes back to bite me in the ass later.
“You hear that, Papi? Isa said she would help. And she lives with us, so it’s not like Hank has to pick her up or anything.”
“And if I did, I wouldn’t mind either,” Hank hollers from the driver’s seat.
I look up in time to see him winking at us through the rearview mirror.
Now they’re just making it hard not to be smug.
“How helpful of you, Hank,” Mateo deadpans.
I have to bite down on my lip to stop myself from full-on gloating.
His eyes shift, and somehow, I know my bite hasn’t gone unnoticed.
He lets out a long breath, but before he can respond, I hear a familiar voice. “Is that the elusive Isabella Morales on your phone screen, Martinez?” Anthony Torres asks melodically. “Nah, it must be my eyes deceiving me, because I don’t think Isabella’s phone works anymore.” Anthony throws his arm over Mateo’s shoulders, which Mateo quickly shrugs off. Then he pierces him with a look I can’t decipher.
“Hi, Anthony,” I say shyly, all vibrato gone. “I know, I know. I deserved that.” I nod bashfully.
I really did deserve that.
After shit hit the fan a few years ago, Denise and Anthony stepped up and were there for me at a time when so many cut me off.
I’m beyond honored that I even get to call myself the godmother to their precious second-born daughter, Hannah.
I know I need to get better at responding to the few friends I actually have when they reach out, but it’s hard sometimes.
I feel like everyone out there has somehow figured out life while I’m over here, floating my way through it.
Graduations, engagements, marriages, babies, new job opportunities, even moving across the world, you name it. Everyone in my life is crushing it at one or even multiple things.
And I’m happy for them, truly.
It’s the dreaded part of the conversation I try to avoid. The part that happens once I congratulate someone on one of their many accomplishments.
“So what’s new with you?”
It sounds so innocent. Polite, even.
But the discomfort in people’s eyes. The looks I’m sure they have no clue they’re giving me when I respond with “oh, you know; same old” is soul crushing.
So I try my best to avoid awkward interactions by avoiding people in general. It’s not like it’s that hard, since I don’t exactly have people banging down my door to hang out with me.
Just the occasional texts from Denise and this girl named Nikki, who I met while I was in the Dominican Republic with Mateo and Anna. Which reminds me, I really should respond to her text about joining her for drinks and dinner.
But it’s hard. All of it. Because when my life was torpedoed, all prior plans went up in flames. And unlike many of my peers, I never had a burning passion for any one specific thing .
I was surrounded by so many friends, or shall I say acquaintances, who had dreams and aspirations beyond my imagination. I guess I’ve always found myself a bit lost in that department.
Instead, back then, I poured so much of myself into being the perfect partner, the perfect support system for someone else.
For him .
Making sure his dreams were always the priority, because then everything else would surely fall into place. Or so I believed.
Never thinking to put myself first, because what was the point? I never had a reason to doubt us.
To doubt him .
Little did I know he would wield the sharpest knife in my back, hurting me in ways I never knew imaginable. Leaving me behind in the wake of his scandal to fend for myself with only the scraps of my dignity trailing behind me.
And in a blink of an eye, it was all… gone.
The life we had planned.
A life where I had love, a home, and a family to call my own.
A life where I experienced a love so big it would seem ripped out of the pages of a romance novel.
But not anymore. Because I’m Isabella Morales. And once my name became permanent ink on the internet, I knew that the dream would forever remain just that. A dream.
I am now destined to be a bystander. Someone who watches others, whether real or fictional, live out lives like the one I once foolishly dreamed of.
If only I had known that my life would be closer to a dark comedy, maybe I would have put more pressure on myself to pick something, anything, so that I didn’t spend so many years confused as to what my new future would or should look like.
Maybe then it wouldn’t have taken me so long to realize that my passion was quite literally under my nose, on the cover of the hundreds of books that saved my soul at a time I never thought it would be salvageable.
Now that I have a real shot of making my dreams, not someone else’s, come true, I know I can’t fuck this up with Mateo. No matter how tempting it is to spar with the grump.
“Knock it off.” Mateo slightly shoves Anthony, his biting tone bringing me back to the present.
“I was just messing with you, Isa,” Anthony says, staring straight at Mateo. What the hell is going on with those two?
“No, Mateo. It’s fine,” I say, trying to bring down the tension on the call. “Anthony’s right. I’ve been a little MIA recently.”
“What’s MIA mean?” Anna pipes in.
“It means missing in action. It’s sometimes used as a figure of speech when you haven’t seen or heard from someone in a while,” I explain as best as I can to the inquisitive five-year-old beside me.
“Have you been MIA because you’ve been hanging out with me?” she asks, worried she may be at fault.
I nudge her with my elbow. “Of course not. Besides, I love hanging out with you. I even get to make friendship bracelets with you and your friends. What’s not to love?” I ask, seemingly putting her at ease.
“Hey, that hasn’t been confirmed yet,” Mateo starts, but I continue as if I didn’t hear him.
“And yes, Anthony, I will be texting your lovely wife back. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I’m sure she could use help with the kiddos.”
Anthony takes the phone out of Mateo’s hand. I can’t make out whatever Mateo grumbled, but from the sounds of it, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t meant for Anna’s little ears. “Thanks, Isa, but don’t worry about the kids. My wife is literally Superwoman. Although I do think she could do with a little time away from them, actually.” He chuckles. “Her mom basically lives with us, and we have a nanny that travels with us when we do, but I’m sure she’d love some alone time with you.” He looks over to where I assume Mateo is standing and smiles naughtily. “Actually, if your boss here isn’t overworking you too much and lets you out of that ivory tower—”
“Jesus Christ,” Mateo mutters.
“I would love to treat you and Denise to a spa day.” He spares one more look at Mateo before he continues. “As a matter of fact, take the whole day and get pampered. Go shopping and head out to a girls’ dinner. Get white wine wasted while you’re at it, if that’s what you’re feeling up to. We’ll plan it on a day when I’m off and her mom and I can tag-team my little gremlins. What do you say?”
I huff out a laugh as Anthony moves the phone a bit to include a very unimpressed-looking Mateo. “Jeez, who knew a girl only had to do ignore her friend for a few weeks to get wined and dined. Just kidding,” I say quickly. “You really don’t have to do all of that. I don’t mind accompanying her to whatever she wants to do. We all know she more than deserves a break. But you absolutely do not have to pay for me. That’s going a bit overboard. Besides, your wife is more into chicken fingers and fries than Michelin restaurants, so I don’t think I’ll be breaking the bank.” I smirk.
Anthony being Anthony, opens his mouth, surely ready to insist, when Mateo says something to shock us both.
“I’ll be the one paying for Isabella.”
The call goes silent for a few moments as I try to figure out whether I heard him correctly.
Anthony clears that confusion right up. “Is that so? Well, looks like Isabella has quite the benefits package at this new gig. Who knew that spas, shopping, and dinners out were included.” His eyes shift to me on the screen. “Shit, if this baseball gig goes south for me, I might need to get on that—”
The screen suddenly points toward the ground, and I can tell someone is trying to muffle the microphone. Although a very gruff “that’s enough” makes it through the line.
Then Mateo is back on the screen, and I hear a faint “ouch” coming from somewhere behind him.
“We’ve arrived,” Hank announces. Only then do I realize the car is parked in the building’s underground garage, and all eyes are on me… including the very assessing eyes of Mateo’s mother.
Mateo must hear Hank clearly, because he asks to be taken off FaceTime so he can say good night to Anna privately, since we’re going to head upstairs and start her bedtime routine.
I hand my phone off to Anna after I help unbuckle her from her booster seat. Not like she needs it, but I guess I needed something to do with my clammy hands.
I round the vehicle to make sure Beth doesn’t need assistance getting out. She might proclaim to feel as good as new after her hip replacement, but I like to be near when she gets out of high stools or cars, just in case.
To my surprise, she’s already out of the vehicle and texting with a single digit. For someone who can only type one letter at a time, she surely is going at it.
But hey, better she be distracted by whatever’s on her phone than that weird phone call.
A moment later, Anna hops out and hands me my phone.
I’m not sure what to do with the slight disappointment that hits me when I realize that Mateo is no longer on the phone. So I shake it off and tuck that thought under the very lumpy imaginative rug in my mind, never to be sorted through again.
Hank wishes us a good night as Charlie walks us to the awaiting elevator.
Anna, Beth, and I start the ascent up the high-rise. I’m deep in my thoughts when Beth leans over and whispers, “After we put Anna down for the night, I think you and I should have a glass of wine and talk.”
The look she gives me makes it clear we’re not about to discuss the latest telenovela she and my mother have been binging on Netflix.
I nod and silently hope that when it comes to her bartending skills, she has a heavy pour.
I’m clearly going to need it.