Chapter 18
Vanessa
“You’re supposed to be on vacation until your new office opens. Why are you here?”
My mother’s staring at me as she rings up a customer. The register is like a typewriter to her; if she had to, she probably could charge three dozen customers per minute. And she doesn’t even need to look at the number pad.
“Hello to you, too, Mami,” I say as I lean over and stash my purse behind the counter. “I’m fine this morning. Thanks for asking.”
She flicks my forehead. “Cuidao. No seas atrevida.”
“I’m not being fresh,” I say with a laugh. “You basically told me to leave.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m basically telling you to get a life.”
“Ouch,” I say, holding both hands over my heart. “You don’t want me around?”
“Of course I want you around. I always want you around.” She looks at me meaningfully. “But only if you want to be here.”
And there it is. A subtle reference to that one time when the store was the last place I wanted to be.
It’s doubly disconcerting to have it thrown back at me by my mother, who’s essentially my twin; seeing her disappointment is like staring at a reflection of my own self-loathing.
I pretend not to understand what she’s alluding to—it’s easier that way—and busy myself by straightening the magazine rack near the deli. “Where’s Papi?”
“He’s out back getting some supplies.”
She watches me as I wander around the store, then lifts her chin as if she’s worked out a puzzle in her head. “Aha, I think I know what’s going on.”
“What, Ma?” I ask, wearing a blank expression. “What’s going on?”
“You’re sniffing around because Camila’s brother will be coming later.”
“Jason? Hardly. One, I’m not sniffing around. Two, he’s already invited me over, so there’s no need for me to sniff around anyway.” I catch her eyes going round, so I quickly add, “For dinner. At his sister’s house. He invited me for dinner with his mother and sisters and Lisa on Thursday.”
My mother’s strained expression softens. “So you’re just hanging out with us today?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay with you. And if Lisa wants to head out early, I could cover for her. Or if you need to run errands, go ahead.”
“You don’t mind?” she asks, raising a brow.
“Not at all.”
“Great,” she says, whipping off the apron she’s always wearing even though she never steps foot in the deli section. “Then I can do my compras now. Fine Fare is having a sale on bistec.”
Do my parents own a grocery store? Yes. Do they buy groceries somewhere else? Also yes. La Flor is for quick pickups: bread, milk, the occasional vegetable when you’ve forgotten a key ingredient. But Fine Fare is for stocking the fridge.
We quickly switch places, and then she opens the door. “Oh, Clara’s son is always trying to be cute. If he comes by, tell him we don’t sell individual cigarettes anymore. His mother can buy a whole pack if she wants, and she needs to come get them herself.”
“Got it,” I say, nodding.
“Thank you, mija! Tell your father I’ll only be a minute.”
As soon as she’s gone, my father returns with a stack of boxes in his hands. “Your mother left?”
“Yeah, she’s going to the supermarket. Said she’ll be back soon.”
He shrugs. “Your mother is always moving. Can’t keep still to save her life.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“That’s true.” He studies my face as I wipe off the counter. “It’s nice to have you here.”
“It’s nice to be here.”
“We missed you,” he says with a wide smile that emphasizes the fine lines around his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good, I like the sound of that,” he says, nodding, then he lifts the boxes in his hands. “I’m going to get ready for the morning rush.”
“Need help?”
“As long as you handle the register, I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, Papi.”
I continue to straighten up the counter area, content in the knowledge that my parents still want me here.
This feels right: being home again, that is.
And although I was thriving in Chicago from a professional standpoint, I wasn’t nearly as successful in my personal life there.
My relocation wasn’t entirely voluntary, yet I can’t say that I’m hating my new normal.
It’s comforting to be around my family again.
It’s heartening to be rooted somewhere, to be anchored to the people I love.
My father and I work well as a team for about an hour, and then Lisa relieves me, explaining that she needs to start now so she can leave early to get her nails done.
“This is perfect, then,” I tell her. “Use this time to chat up Jason. I won’t be here, so you’ll have a captive audience.”
“Okay, but what do I say?”
“Just talk to him, Lili.”
“Okay, okay,” she says. Then she licks her lips. “I’m just nervous.”
“You’ll be fine. Show him who you are. Talk about your interests. Ask about his. Be drama free, and give him a glimpse of how easy you two would be together.”
She nods, biting her lip. “I can do that.”
“I know you can.”
Minutes later, I’m counting the money in the drawer before handing it off to Lisa when the digital doorbell chimes and a voice I never expected to hear in this place greets me.
“Hello, Vanessa.”
I whip my head up, my mouth parted in shock. “What are you doing here?”
Standing in front of the counter, looking as if he’s headed to play a round of golf at Van Cortlandt, is my former lover, David Warner.
What the fuck?
He smiles at me, pretending that all is well between us. I glare at him as heat courses through my body.
The nerve of this man.
Lisa senses my distress and places a hand on my arm. “Is everything okay? Need me to get Papi?”
“It’s okay, Lili. I can handle this.”
Narrowing my eyes at David, I motion for him to follow me outside. I’m not putting up with his games anymore. This bullshit ends now.
“You left me no choice,” David tells me. “This is the only way I could see you.”
I’m pacing the area in front of the store, trying but nearly failing not to lose my shit.
“How’d you find me?” I ask, scowling at him.
“Easy. I listened when we were together. And I remember you saying your parents owned a bodega on 106th Street.”
He pronounces bodega like Bogotá, Colombia, and I want to smash his face in.
“This is harassment, David. I don’t want you here.”
“I just wanted an opportunity to explain,” he says, reaching for my hand.
“Explain what?” I say, dodging his touch.
“I think I made a mistake recommending you for the New York office. It didn’t turn out the way I planned. And I miss you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head vehemently. “We are not doing this. There are absolutely no circumstances under which we are anything but professional colleagues.”
“You don’t mean that,” he says, moving closer.
I put up a hand to stop him. “David, listen to me. We are never going to happen. I’m a novelty for you.
I wasn’t interested in a relationship, so you’re inevitably desperate for one.
Because that’s how these things work, right?
But if you thought about it—really thought about it—you’d recognize that you screwed me over, and that kind of puts a damper on whatever love story we could have had. ”
David runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a frustrated sigh. “People make mistakes. If you would—”
“Is there a problem here?” a voice behind me asks.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Oh my God, no. Not Jason. Not now. Beam me the fuck up, Scotty.
I spin around and face Jason. “It’s nothing. I can take care of this.”
A muscle ticks in Jason’s jaw. “Are you sure? I’m happy to stay here until he leaves. Or make him leave if he gives me a reason to.”
“I’m sure,” I say, placing a hand on his chest. “There’s no need for you to be involved.”
His eyes flash with hurt, and then his expression goes blank. “Fine. I’ll be inside if you change your mind.”
Jason stomps off, but not before glowering at David as if he’s seconds from slamming my boss’s face against the concrete. It would serve the man right if Jason did just that.
“So he really is your boyfriend?”
“I’ve moved on, David. You should too.”
David can make of that response what he will. I don’t owe him an explanation.
“Listen, I just want to do my job,” I continue. “It didn’t work out between us, but it’s over now. And in a way, this move will be good for us. It’s a clean break.”
“So that’s it?” he says, sadness clouding his features as he stares at me. “You felt nothing for me?”
“I did feel something for you. Not love, but affection and respect. All of that was extinguished the moment you retaliated against me.”
The word retaliated seems to set off a warning bell in his mind, as if he suddenly realizes the implication of his actions. He steps back, and his face turns crimson. “I’ll leave you alone. Sorry if I went too far.”
“You did. Let’s just push ahead from here.”
“Okay,” he says, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
Before he walks away, I stop him. “And David?”
He turns around. “Yeah?”
“I saved every voicemail, every text, every card attached to the lilies you used to send.”
He doesn’t answer, but judging by how his skin pales, I think he understands my point. And then he scurries away, throwing up his hand to hail a cab when he’s put some distance between us. Yeah, good luck with that.
“You okay?” Jason says behind me.
I jump at the sound of his voice. “God, you scared me. I thought you were inside.”
“I was standing by the door,” he says, his face unreadable. “Just in case.”
“Thanks, but it’s handled. I have a funny feeling I’ll be dealing with David exclusively by email from now on.”
“Good,” he says, his expression grim. “Your dad and Lisa wanted to know who he was.”
“Did you tell them?” I ask, pinching the skin at my throat.
“I claimed not to know.”
“Thanks again.”
He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.
I can only imagine what he’s thinking. Yes, I’m a mess.
And yeah, I don’t always make the best decisions, but this move to New York is my chance to start fresh.
It figures that David would try to drag me back to hell and that Jason would be around to witness it.
“Go ahead. Say what you want to say. I’m sure I’ve heard worse. ”
“You told me there was no need for me to be involved,” he says, walking toward me, then stopping when we’re inches apart.
“Before. When your boss was here. But I’m already involved.
And I only backed off because you asked me to.
I just wanted you to know the state of play. Ball’s in your court now.”
Unable to formulate a pithy response, I simply nod.
Honestly, a part of me wanted him to be involved too. I can easily imagine a scenario in which Jason is my partner and has my back. I can just as easily picture a future in which we ride-or-die for each other. Which can only mean one thing: I’m officially in over my head.