2. Isabel
2
ISABEL
I leaned over to peer past the person in front of me in the line to check in at the glitzy hotel I’d call home for the next couple of weeks.
Oof. This queue was nine guests deep. Yeah. I’m gonna be here for a while.
My flight to Acapulco’s international airport had been a trial of patience. I wasn’t the most hurried person out there. I could roll with the flow, take the punches and carry on. But my God, had I forgotten how hellish it was to fly anywhere this close to Christmas.
I smiled, recalling the tired expression on travel-weary parents with screaming babies. The snarky banter frustrated airline employees shared with each other. And the oh-shit gasps from people in the cafés when they realized they were going to miss their boarding time.
Seven long hours, I’d been in and out of airports. On planes, waiting to take off. In terminals, standing around to get on. Walking back and forth as connecting flights were canceled and rescheduled. All for this. For me to… be stuck in another line.
Traveling from Calgary to Acapulco shouldn’t have felt like a journey of a lifetime, but it was what it was. I was here now, and I’d?—
“Excuse me.”
I turned, smiling at the young man standing behind me. With a toddler fussing in his arms, propped at his hip, and an older child digging his feet in to pull the guy away, he cringed at me. “Sorry. I’m sorry to bother you, but is there a chance I could go ahead of you in line?”
I raised my brows in surprise at his question. That’s sort of forward.
“I notice you’re alone.” And that’s creepy.
“And I was hoping you wouldn’t mind letting me get ahead in line.” And that’s entitled.
He shrugged as the boy dug his feet in to tug the man out of line. “Before, I don’t know, these kids make my blood pressure skyrocket so high that my head explodes.”
“That’s sort of gruesome.” I laughed, though, able to cut someone slack. Stepping back, I waved him ahead. “Go ahead.”
“Really?” His shoulder sagged with relief.
I nodded, smiling and hoping no corporeal explosions happened near me. I’d never really cared for guts and gore, never a fan of horror.
He advanced in front of me, and when the boy whined and tried to force the man away with him, I helped scoot and wheel their luggage before mine.
Nine people. Ten. Whatever. I could hold on to the optimism that if one more hotel staff member showed up and they could tackle this line of guests two at a time, the wait wouldn’t be that terrible.
Besides, it wasn’t like I had anyone waiting for me. No companions to be obligated to be concerned about.
The man tried his tactic again, tapping the shoulder of the man who had been ahead of me. He, like me, was a single traveler waiting to check in. But unlike me, when the harried-looking and stressed-out dad asked him the same favor, the old gray-haired scrooge scowled and told him to fuck off.
“Yeah, Dad,” the boy whined. “Let’s fuck off and go to dinner.”
“Simon, don’t say that word,” the dad scolded.
“But I’m hungry .”
The scrooge faced forward and shook his head.
I winced, feeling awkward to be near a confrontation. As a rule of thumb, I avoided them, but it never hurt to be considerate to a stranger in need.
“Here.” I held out a granola bar from my purse. “Does this help?” I asked the boy.
He nodded, looking at his dad for permission. “Thanks,” he told me as the boy took it.
The toddler fussed more, perhaps jealous.
“Sorry, girlie.” I shrugged. “All I’ve got left is gum, and I doubt you can have that.”
The dad rubbed her back, soothing her, and I leaned over to check on the line. Nope. No change.
I sighed and shifted my weight to prop my butt on my suitcase. It looked like I’d be here for a long while, but again, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Even though I traveled alone, I was hoping to get into my room as soon as possible. For one thing, airports made me feel grimy and dirty. But more importantly, I had a call to make in the privacy of my room.
Today was Esmeralda Flores’s birthday. Every daughter should at least speak to her mother on that special day. Or they should try.
I knew very well that if I called the rehab facility she lived in, my call might go unanswered. There was, as always, a fifty-fifty chance I’d be connected to her, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
Deep inside me, I knew that it was always better to do the right thing. To make a conscious effort to be a kind person. Calling my mother would be a nice gesture, something that would give me comfort. But on the surface, it was nothing more than an obligation to show that I cared. It was a duty to check in. Despite there being no hope for my mom, no chance of her ever really reconnecting with me in a lucid, non-high way.
As if my thoughts about my mother summoned her, a pissed-off woman marched up to the dad in front of me.
“Simon?” She snatched the last bite of the granola bar from the kid’s hand. “What the hell, Drake?” Seething and scowling at the man, she held up the wrapper.
“Moooommmm,” the boy whined.
She turned her beady stare to him. “You’re going to spoil your appetite before dinner.”
“Screw dinner, Molly. We’re not going to check in until midnight,” the dad said.
“Oh, but you have time to get junk food on the way to the line? While I park the van and deal with the ticket?”
Ay, yi, yi. I fought not to roll my eyes or make a face. Standing so close to them was getting awkward, like walking past a trainwreck that was still smoking.
“He didn’t give it to me.” The boy pointed at me. “That hot lady did.”
Oh, Jesus.
I smiled weakly and waved.
“ Hot lady ?” she snarled. “Is that what you said?” She got in her husband’s face.
He shook his head as the toddler fussed. “No. I?—”
“I’m over here trying to get our family situated for our family vacation. And you’re checking out hot ladies in line? Like you slept with that hot neighbor we used to rent next to? Huh?”
I stepped back, slowly, then a little more until I could get around the young businessman behind me. He looked up, brows raised in question but oblivious to the domestic warzone because he had earbuds in.
“I’m just going to…” I whispered, pointing behind him. “You take my spot.”
Ten. Eleven. Whatever. I’d enjoy the peace away from them in line.
He shrugged, stepping forward as the woman harassed her husband. They fought so much more that they ultimately left the line.
Yay, back to ten ahead of me.
As soon as the dysfunctional family left the line, another staff member showed up to run the other computer for check-ins, and I was on my way up in an elevator ten minutes later.
I got in the elevator with the scrooge who wouldn’t let the dad move up. He grunted at me, noticing I was alone.
“Don’t ever get married,” he offered as unsolicited advice.
I laughed once.
“You’ll end up like that woman in the line. Unhappy and impossible.”
I wanted to doubt that couple represented all marriages. “Ah. I currently have no prospects on the marriage front, so I am safe from that tragedy.”
One side of his lips rose in a smile at my sarcasm. “Life might be lonely. You might think you’re miserable on your own, but take it from me. Marriage ain’t worth it.”
I… never asked…
“I just left my fourth wife last month. And she is the last!”
I bit my lower lip to hold in laughter, but the second he got off at his floor, I cracked up.
Four times? “You didn’t learn the first or second round?”
I got to my room with his advice lingering in my mind, though. I wasn’t opposed to getting married, but I had to find someone to marry first. Someone I really desired for the long term.
Loneliness was a curse, though, one I felt for most of my twenty-three years on this earth. I wasn’t sure whether I could label myself miserable to be on my own, but the whole reason I had taken a month off from work was to have a change of scenery. To switch up my life for the holidays to better mask how I had no one. And to tamp down the ache of wanting to have someone .
Ignoring how lonely I felt was manageable when I was busy working, but more often than not, lately, I had been obsessed with how incomplete I felt. How utterly singular I was in this world when deep in my heart, I was convinced I didn’t have to be.
Someone had to be out there for me. Somewhere.
I set my luggage aside in my room and then dialed the rehab facility for my mother. It rang and rang, then I was put on hold long enough that I could unzip my suitcase and set out some of my clothes.
“Bayshore Residences,” the receptionist finally said.
“Oh. Hi! I’d like to speak to Esmeralda Flores. This is Isabel.” Again. I called biweekly to try to talk to her. And still, the staff didn’t remember my voice or number.
“One minute.” Tinny music resumed.
Five minutes later, she spoke again. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
You could say it… a little more gently, couldn’t you? Not bark it like you hate your job and your life?
I cleared my throat. “Oh. Um. Thanks.”
“Like last week,” the receptionist said, softening her voice slightly, “and I quote, she ‘wants nothing to do with you because you’re tainted by your father.’ Unquote.”
“Right. Thanks.”
I disconnected the call and sat on the bed. Holding my phone between my knees, I fought the sting of heartache. It’d always been like this. This was nothing new. But still, not having a family—by blood or in marriage—was wearing on me. Not having steady friends because I was too much of a loner broke my heart. I couldn’t even count on coworkers since my career was a solo gig.
No. We’re not doing this. Not now.
I stood, determined not to stay bitter and sad. I planned this vacation for a change of scenery, for a chance to just… love my life. To love myself, even if no one else did.
I was here, and I would live my unfortunately single life to the freaking fullest.
Leaving my clothes and suitcase, I grabbed an outfit to change into.
This sadness and anxiety from my mother refusing my call would fester if I didn’t do something about it.
A drink was waiting for me somewhere, and I would damn well go out and find it to help take the edge off these ugly feelings. And to chase away the realization that the old man was wrong.
I was miserable on my own.
I wanted someone.
Just once. For once in my life, I wanted to bask in the company of someone who did want me around.