Chapter 14 #2
“No, wait. I have questions,” I say as I cross my living room and head for the door. “The old Corazón Salvaje or one of the newer ones?”
“The old one. My mom hated the newer ones.”
“Because the first one with Palomo was so good.” I sprint down the stairs.
“You saw it?”
“Have you met Raquel? She’s a straight-up novela aficionado.
It’s how she would bond with my grandma after work.
When she goes out with Darren, she records them.
I remember being little and the three of us piling up on my Guela’s bed to watch.
Toque de queda, they used to call it. Because it was exactly like a curfew. Everything stopped.”
“Yeah, Mami and me used to watch the nine p.m. one together over the phone if I was touring, or she would wait for me if I was performing that night. When I couldn’t record it, she would fill me in. It was our quality time.”
There’s something so sad in the way he says the words. He misses her.
“Which one was her favorite?”
“Sortilegio. Listen Luna, you should go—”
While he talks, I cross the street and knock on the driver’s window. Rio turns to me with wide eyes.
“What are you doing down here?” He’s a little flushed, like he can’t believe it.
I point back at my window. “I could see the car. Come upstairs for a bit.”
He shakes his head. “You and your mom are spending time together.”
“Sir, we live together. Come on, open this door.”
He unlocks the door and steps out. I hug him, and his arms wrap and tighten around me, squeezing me. Tito is already coming around.
“I’ll call you,” Rio says to Tito, who leans to kiss my cheek and gets into the driver’s seat.
I take Rio’s hand in mine and lead the way back to the building. I walk fast. He’s silent up the steps and through the door. My mom walks back to her room in her big blue robe over her night shirt, holding a glass of water.
“Hi, Rio.”
He steps forward and offers his hand. “Disculpe la interrupción y la hora. I’ll leave soon.”
She kisses his cheek and smiles. “You’re okay. It’s normal for my daughter’s novio to come calling.”
My mouth goes slack, and I give her a pointed look. The respectful version of what-the-fuck.
Her smile only brightens. “I’ll see you later.” As she closes her bedroom door, she yells over her shoulder, “No funny business.”
Rio flushes. “Yo…Yo no le faltaría el respeto.”
She laughs. “I’m teasing you.”
I want to die. “She’s in a weird, funny mood.”
He stands there, as if he doesn’t know what to do.
“?Qué te pasa?” I ask.
He says nothing.
I close the distance between us and take his hand again. “I know something’s wrong.”
He squeezes my hand. “It’s tomorrow.”
I frown at him. “What about it? You’re ready. Rehearsals are perfect.” The videos he’s been sending have been amazing.
“I know…” He breathes out. “It’s her… I’m ready to talk about her.”
And it’s the somber light in his eyes that brings me back to his earlier words about how precious the moments I spent with my mom are. My heart shatters for him so fast.
His mom.
I want to hold him, but I hold myself back. I don’t want him to clam up. He needs to let it out. I guide him to the couch instead.
I tuck my legs under me and pull him to sit beside me. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”
“It was cancer. I found out two years ago. I had just finished a tour and she was here in New York. She found out before but didn’t tell me, waiting until I was done with that fucking tour to tell me.
She waited about a month to go to the doctor, where they told us her days were numbered.
We headed to the DR, and I took care of her until her last moment. I couldn’t be away.”
The flash of pain punches through my chest. He had to watch his mother die. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the surge of emotion.
“Watching her fade away was as bad as losing her. She used to be active and lively. She was kind of like your mom, but a lot feistier. It hit me today after we got home from the last rehearsal.” His eyes turn cloudy, like a storm coming closer and closer.
“The concert opens tomorrow, and I’m not going to hear her voice.
Ella siempre estaba ahí. Before every concert, I got a call from her.
But this time, she won’t tease me about chiviricas throwing their panties at me onstage.
She won’t give me her blessing and send 25-30 saints to stand behind me, hold my hand, or go in front of me.
There won’t be candles on anyone’s mantel tomorrow or a mass offered with gratitude after. ”
Tears glisten in his eyes, a knot in my throat. His hand tightens around mine. I’m impotent as the tears drop down his cheeks, and mine fall just as fast. My mom is my everything, and to think of him living my worst fear is just devastating.
“I don’t want you to cry,” he says.
“I can’t help it. I don’t want you to hurt like this.” I can barely get the words out because my throat hurts so much.
He covers his face with his hands, leaving the tears that keep falling as the silent sign of his pain. How many times can a heart break?
I pull him close, pressing his face to my chest, and hug him as tight as I can.
“Why did he do this to me?” he asks, and before I can ask, he adds, “Why did He take her? She was so good. She helped everyone. I needed her. I don’t have my dad anymore. Me dejo huerfano. He left me alone.”
Orphan.
I’m desperate to help him, but I don’t know how. I breathe and hold on tight. I let him cry and let my own tears cloud my eyes, fall, and clear my vision again. He’s not alone. Doesn’t he know that?
Maybe you need to say it.
“I’m here, Rio. I’m here with you.”
He pushes back, lifting his head from my chest. His red-rimmed eyes are moving all over my face. “?De verdad?”
And I know what he’s asking. Do I mean it? The words came out of my mouth so fast, in a way that only the truth can. Because I do mean it. I’m here. I don’t want him to be alone.
“Yes, because...”
“You feel sorry for me, and you’re nice—”
I press my fingers to his lips. “I’m falling in love with you.”
His eyes round. “But you said…”
“I know. My mouth says a lot of things, but…” I can’t seem to get all my words together, so I just press a hand to my chest.
He sits back on my couch with his hand tight around mine.
My heart pounds its way out of my chest. I just confessed I’m falling for him. I put myself out there when he’s confessing about his mom, and I don’t know if he feels the same.
I look toward the other side of the room and swallow. What the fuck did you do, Luna?
“Thank you,” he says.
My stomach knots, and fear settles like a puddle. He’s grateful. Shit.
“I don’t trust people, and I haven’t even been able to talk about ella with anyone. Ella es sacred.”
His mom.
“Why do you say ella?”
His whole body tenses again, and I squeeze his hand.
He breathes out. “It’s easier to say her or ella. I don’t trust myself to say anything else.”
“You talked to me about her.”
He lifts his free hand and settles it on my cheek. “I trust you con mi Mai and you’re the only one.”
The warmth floods my chest, and it’s scary how much I want to take his pain away. “Thank you for trusting me. Now you can say mom, mamá, or Mami.”
“Mami.” He pulls me to him and presses his lips to mine.
I sit back, and his head falls onto my shoulder. We stay in silence, and his breath evens out.
He’s asleep, but I’m wide awake and panicking.
* * *
Luna
I’m happy he opened up to me, and I'm there for him.
But now I’m in knots because I put myself out there, and shit like that changes things. Now I don’t know what this means for us. But part of me is at peace because he let it out. It also explains so many things about him, all the trouble he got into, the anger.
When the door to my mom’s room opens again, he sits up, as do I. Mami stands there, looking at us with concern.
“I’m sorry.” He stands. “I’m leaving. We were talking, and I fell asleep. I’m tired and…”
“We have to call Tito,” I say.
He looks at Mami. “I can do an Uber. I didn’t mean to keep you up—"
Her hand shoots out to touch his shoulder. “You’re tired, and tomorrow’s your big day. It’s late, and you shouldn’t be out and about. Lo malo, evil stuff, is always out to get you before your big victory. You can sleep in Luna’s room. She can sleep with me.”
I’m stunned. He’s frozen.
“Let me get you some towels.” But as she walks away, worry clouds her eyes.
How much did she hear?
“I don’t have to stay.” He looks almost panicked, and it makes me smile.
“My bed is really comfortable. I have a soft mattress pad. I mean, not like what you’re used to, but it will be a restful night.”
“Stop messing with me. I don’t want to disrespect your mom.” He’s whispering, and that makes this even funnier, which I feel he needs in order to lighten up the heavy stuff he shared.
I lean into his ear. “Then don’t think about the fact that my panties are only a few feet away while you’re in there.”
My mom returns before he can answer and hands me the towels. “Help him settle. Hasta manana, Rio.”
“Buenas noches,” he says, and I show him to my room. “This is not how I pictured your room.”
His eyes are everywhere—the mauve walls, my corkboard with my to-do list, and my bed.
“How have you been picturing my room?” I pause to look at him.
“Red silk sheets, low lighting.”
“That sounds like it would be your room more than mine.”
“So you try to picture my room too?”
I already told him that I’m falling for him. What’s one more confession? “Yeah.”
“I’ll have to show you since I already know what yours looks like.”
“I would like that.”
He smiles so wide, like his normal self coming back to the surface, and my body heats up. Then he brings me closer, whispering in my ear, “When we go to my house, I’m going to kick everyone out y nos vamos a matar las ganas in every corner.”
Shivers break over my skin, making me shudder. “I’m ready.”
“I bet your panties estan mojados like the day of the video. I’m dying to check, but…I don’t want to be a falta respeto.”
I can feel how wet I am from just thinking about him between my legs with his mouth latched onto my nipple. Mami falls asleep fast, and she won’t come in here. I can turn on the TV and be really quiet.
But no, I can’t do that. He’s being respectful, and I need to be too.
“Why don’t I give you a souvenir?”
“What’s that?”
I walk to my dresser and pull out a pair of panties.
“I want the wet ones, not the clean ones,” he mutters, his voice deepening.
I hook my finger into my pajama bottoms and push them down my legs along with my panties. I step out as he stares at me, wide-eyed.
Then I put on the clean ones and bend over to pick up my used ones and hand them to him.
Then I pull my pants.
“Buenas noches.” I lean and press a quick kiss on his lips.
I walk out of the room fast, as if my nipples aren’t hard and the ache between my legs isn’t uncomfortable. Let me wash my face.
When I finish, I climb into my mom’s bed where she’s watching the news.
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “He was having a tough time.”
“He’s missing his mom.”
“You heard?”
She turns to look at me. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but his voice carried. You were both crying… But I could tell when he came in. When you lose a mother, you recognize the pain in others.”
My heart is so full of love for her. “I love you, Mami.”
“Me too, Mariposita.” Then she smiles. “Sooo…do you want to go sleep in there?”
Her head tilts in the direction of my room.
“He’s respetuoso.”
She raises a brow. “I’m glad he is respectful. And it’s not an invitation for you to go. Not under my roof. I’m asking, do you want to?”
“Yes.”
She nods. “And you thought about it?”
It’s all I can think about.
“Yeah,” I say as casually as I can muster.
“Okay.” She turns on her side and lies down.
I lie on my side of the bed, grateful that conversations with my mom put a damper on my ganas.
Then I see a notification on my phone. I tap on his name.
Rio
Pilla. Abusadora. Cruel.
I smile until I see the next text.
Rio
I licked the moisture out of it.
And I swear I feel that tongue on me.
He follows with a photo of him with my panties in his mouth.