Chapter Thirty-five
Roisin and I are comparing notes on how we think Sofia and Carlos are doing, strolling towards the hospital exit, when a voice shouts, ‘Coming through!’
We each move to one side of the wheelchair that’s being wheeled through the front doors, with a heavily pregnant woman panting, her long hair all mussed and strewn across her face, her forehead sweaty with exertion. I’m just thinking ‘remind me never to get pregnant’ when I spot who’s wheeling the wheelchair.
‘Dexter!’
Both he and Maite glance up at Roisin and me, just as Maite lets out an ear-piercing scream.
‘Is there anything we can do?’ I ask.
Dexter scans the foyer then heads to the reception desk, calling back over his shoulder. ‘Just get back to the sanctuary and take care of things with the others in my absence.’
Roisin and I return to the car, where shellshocked, I put the car into gear. Maite’s baby’s coming. Early. Too early. Her boyfriend was supposed to be back, wasn’t he? Or did he have to go on another business trip? Whatever, thank goodness Dexter was on hand. She looked like she was about to give birth in the foyer.
We arrive back at the sanctuary and fill the others in on Carlos and Sofia’s progress and the fact we met Maite and Dexter in the hospital.
‘She’s only thirty-two weeks.’ Mariangeles’ face is creased with concern.
‘It’s early but babies can survive from much earlier these days,’ Federica reassures her.
When we turn in for the night, Dexter is still noticeable by his absence. Part of me wants to text him to check everything is OK, but the other part doesn’t want to intrude, especially in case everything isn’t. Poor Maite. When you’re pregnant, I imagine all you think about is the beautiful little bundle of joy at the end of it, and maybe you give some thought to the endless nappy changing, sleepless nights and lack of social life that will follow, but you probably don’t spend much time wondering if the baby will come early and what the ramifications may be.
Next morning, at breakfast, Mariangeles beams. ‘Maite has had the baby. A girl. Pilar. Four pounds two ounces.’
‘That’s a relief.’ I sigh. ‘That’s not too bad a weight for a baby of thirty-two weeks. I worked with a woman whose thirty-five-week baby was only three pounds fourteen ounces.’
Federica pours herself some coffee. ‘Yes, that’s very positive. What else does she say?’
Mariangeles raises her head from her phone. ‘No, it’s Dexter who messaged me from Maite’s phone. She’s sleeping. She must be exhausted and have asked Dexter to handle her messages. They’re both doing well, but Pilar will be in the neonatal unit initially.’
‘That’s good,’ says Federica. ‘What about her boyfriend? Where is he? I’m guessing he’s away for work again if she called Dexter.’
Mariangeles is mid-chew, but when she finishes she confirms, ‘Yes, he was in Copenhagen and should land later today. Obviously, they weren’t expecting the baby to come so soon.’
Ella pipes up. ‘Has anyone told Carlos or Sofia? They’ll be delighted for Maite.’
Mariangeles shakes her head. ‘Unless Dexter has found time to visit them, then no. Or perhaps he has texted them. No matter, I’ll let them know in case they don’t already.’ She taps away on her phone and then beams as Victor places food in front of her. I grin. The way to Mariangeles’ heart is definitely through her stomach.
As we set off for the day’s chores, Federica walks with me. ‘Kat, can I ask you something?’ she says in English.
‘Sure’ I say, wondering what’s coming.
‘Do you think my English is improving?’ she asks, her voice filled with uncertainty.
‘Most definitely.’ I grin at her and she grins back, then I sling my arm around her shoulder and we head out into the foyer together.
Three days later, Sofia is finally released from hospital, and four days after that Carlos is too. The sanctuary comes to life again in their presence, almost as if without them its soul was missing.
It’s wonderful to have them back. Even though they’re both under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next month or so, they’re back at the heart of things, and where they belong, and that’s all that matters.
I never did manage to have that conversation with Dexter; with Maite going into labour and giving birth shortly afterwards, there simply hasn’t been time. And now it’s just over a week until I leave. I didn’t tell anyone what Carlos said to me about Dexter, so the girls are busy organising a final hurrah for me, at the sanctuary, of course. Everyone is invited: Ed, Nicolás, Oscar, as well as all the sanctuary family. It’ll serve as both a goodbye for me and a welcome back for Carlos and Sofia, but the more I think of it, and of leaving, the sadder I feel.
It’s the day before I’m due to leave. Things have been… difficult, to say the least. I’ve tried to take my mind off the Dexter situation by dealing with the practicalities that need seeing to back home: arranging somewhere to live after the first week, buying my books for my course, checking all of the announcements from the university, double-checking my flight details.
Everyone is preparing for the party. They want to make it a real celebration, even though it feels like underlining the final stage in a chapter of my life when I’m not ready for it to end yet.
Mariangeles, Federica and Ella, and even Roisin, have gone all out, decorating the firepit area and inside the two rec rooms; they’re now festooned with multi-coloured bunting and garlands. They don’t quite have the raw materials Nicolás had at his disposal for my surprise birthday party, two months ago, but they’ve done an excellent job nonetheless.
Carlos and Sofia are well enough to sit in a high-backed chair and an armchair that Javier has deemed suitable and which he and Ed have carried out of Carlos and Sofia’s living quarters.
Since I’m the guest of honour, I make sure to arrive first, with the girls. Carlos and Sofia are helped out to the firepit area next, by Javier, and Nicolás, who has just arrived with Oscar, Ed and Gloriana.
Victor comes round asking everyone what they want to drink and Alejandro starts up some music, whilst Mariangeles and Federica begin dishing out snacks.
Dexter hasn’t arrived yet, and for a moment I wonder if he simply won’t show up. I’m sure this must be a bittersweet moment for him too. I know he told me to do what was best for me, even before the misunderstanding over his and Maite’s relationship and the baby being his, but we were close, even if now we’re just friends. Plus, it’s not like I’m only moving down the road. I checked. Five thousand, two hundred and eighty-five miles isn’t exactly insignificant.
I glance over at Carlos and Sofia. Sofia is cackling with laughter and Carlos leans in towards her, says something, which makes tears of mirth run down her face. I’m happy to see them enjoying themselves. Particularly after recent events. Carlos catches me watching them and crooks a finger at me.
I head over to him, to check if he wants his drink refilled, and lean down to hear him over the music.
‘Did you ever speak to Dexter?’
I look into his eyes, which are so full of wisdom, then shake my head. ‘I didn’t get the chance. You remember that was the day we met him at the hospital when Maite had gone into labour.’
Carlos waves his hand through the air, dismissing my argument. ‘It’s never too late, you know.’ He glances around. ‘Where is he, anyway?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him–’
‘Kat, can you help me a moment?’ Mariangeles asks as she struggles with a tray of wine glasses, one precariously hovering near the edge.
‘Sure.’ Taking this as the moment to seek my reprieve from Carlos, I shoot him an apologetic smile and follow Mariangeles to the bar area Javier and Alejandro constructed earlier, where I accept the glass of wine she pours me.
‘It looked like you needed rescuing,’ she says.
‘I did. He was asking me about Dexter.’
Mariangeles’ eyebrows shoot into her hairline. ‘Dexter? I thought you had both put that to bed. Pardon the pun.’
‘We had… have,’ I assure her.
‘Is there something I should know?’ Mariangeles asks, arching an eyebrow.
‘No, of course not.’ Suddenly desperate to escape from Mariangeles’ probing questions, I excuse myself, on the pretence I need the loo, which is true, but it’s also a good get-away-from-Mariangeles card.
As I walk out of the toilets, I run into Dexter. Literally. Like straight into him. Oof!
‘Sorry.’ He smiles. ‘I was lost in thought.’
I can’t help wishing I knew what he was thinking about, but I’ll bask in the warmth of that megawatt smile any day. It has been missing too often lately.
I smile back and go to move, but he says, ‘Kat…’ and I stop. A myriad of emotions flickers across his face and I wonder what’s coming next.
He takes my arm gently. ‘I want you to know that I wish things had been different for us, too.’
That’s it? Somehow I feel even more deflated than before he said that.
But he goes on, ‘I’d take you to the airport, but I think it would be too difficult.’ He looks at me ruefully, and just like that, my insides melt. They’d started to freeze over at his previous sentence, but his admission shows me he does care.
I nod. ‘I understand. In fact, I’m taking a taxi as I hate goodbyes, and I know the girls would have me in floods if they came to see me off. They’ve offered, but I’ve turned them down. I have a cab coming in the morning.’
‘Oh!’ He looks wrong-footed, and I wonder if it was something I said. Damn, here’s me thinking he has said the wrong thing. ‘Anyway, I’ll miss you and I wish you all the best.’
Well, that’s drawn a line under that then. Those words are pretty definitive.
He leans in to give me a hug. God, he smells so good. It would be so easy to kiss him from this position, but that’s not what this conversation’s about, not where it’s leading. We break apart about ten seconds later, yes, admittedly, a few seconds longer than would be usual for a platonic hug, but then when has anything been usual with us? Since I found Roisin naked in his bed, life has been a little bit of a rollercoaster for us both.
‘Thanks. I’d better get back, and you’d better…’
‘…go to the toilet?’ His lips curve slightly. Perhaps he realises this is not the most romantic of endings.
‘Quite. See you.’ I skip, actually skip, back to the others as if I’m delighted with what has just transpired, when nothing could be further from the truth.
The party is fun. How could it not be, with the girls organising it and Victor making the snacks. The music is good, the company is fabulous, the food is amazing, but my heart isn’t in it.
I decide I need a little time to myself, so I let myself into the nursery and sit on the sofa, with my glass of star fruit wine, at peace, watching the babies sleep. I’m going to miss them so much, and I’m not only talking about the pups. Tears prick the back of my eyes and this time I let them flow.
Voices come from outside the door, and I hope I’m not in trouble.
Ah, no, it’s just Mariangeles. Probably Federica’s with her. They’re joined at the hip mostly. But the next voice I hear is Dexter’s.
‘I have tried.’
‘Not hard enough, obviously.’ Mariangeles.
‘She’s made it quite plain she’s going.’
Uh-oh, nothing good ever came of eavesdropping. I more than anyone else know that.
‘Did you tell her how you feel?’ Mariangeles hisses.
‘Yes. I told her I’ll miss her.’
‘Dexter, oh my God, why are men so stupid?’ She lets forth a torrent of words whose meaning I can’t even guess at, her flow of Spanish is so rapid.
‘Mariangeles. Leave it. It’s done. We had our chance.’
And just like that, he has given up.
‘You should have told her. Carlos told you to. I told you to. God, even Victor told you to. Why are you being so stubborn?’
Dexter’s voice is a whisper. ‘Because it hurts too much when the other person doesn’t feel the same way.’
‘ Ay! But she does. I told you she does.’
‘But she hasn’t told me. She’s had every chance. Three little words. That’s all it would take. And anyway, I don’t want her not going to uni because of me.’
‘Oh my God, I give up. She’s a big girl, who can make up her own mind about whether to stay or go. But with regards to saying those three little words, it works both ways, Dexter. Take the initiative. Don’t wait until it’s too late.’
‘It’s already too late.’ I hear footsteps moving away then a few seconds later Mariangeles muttering mild obscenities under her breath then more footsteps going in the other direction.
I sit there, my heart beating so loud I feel it whoosh around my head. Three little words. I love you? Could it be anything else? Why would he expect me to say them first? I was about to, though, wasn’t I? That day on the bench when Maite appeared, when I was telling Dexter I’d got into uni. My head starts thumping and I don’t know if it’s because of the wine, the stress and sadness at leaving or what I’ve overheard.
In a daze, I make my way back to the party, pasting a smile on, pretending everything’s fine.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Nicolás says. ‘I’ve been looking for you so we can dance.’
‘Oh, no, Nicolás. I…’ But he ignores me, taking me by the hand and signalling to Oscar to cue the music. Immediately, a salsa tune comes through the speakers, and Nicolás leads me– he’s an excellent dancer. Soon, he’s whirling me around and my flippy black dress is flying up like I was born to do this. It feels amazing. I’m so glad Nicolás is an expert at this, as, much as I love this type of dancing, I’m not particularly good at it, but with Nicolás as my lead, I don’t come across as a total fiasco. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m actually not too bad. Praise indeed.
The music changes to a song with a slightly slower tempo, and just as I’m thanking Nicolás and about to walk away, Nicolás says, ‘There you are, right on time.’
I turn to see Dexter, who, by the startled expression on his face, has been ambushed. Nicolás takes me by the hand, kisses it, then offers it to Dexter. I’ve half a mind to tell him I’m not a prize cow ready to be handed over to the new owner, but when Dexter takes my hand, all reason goes out of the window. This could be the last time I’m ever close to this man, this man who picked me up, literally, when I fell; who kissed me until I begged him to stop; and who made love to me until I pleaded with him not to stop. Ever.
Our eyes meet, and I see there what I imagine Dexter sees in mine: desire, love and… hope?
As we dance and sway to the beat of the music, which though slow, eventually builds to a crescendo, Dexter’s lips almost brush my ear. Was he trying to kiss me? But then as we complete the dance, I’m sure of two things: one– he whispered something to me, and two– he said ‘I love you’. But I don’t think he intended me to actually hear him. He said it so softly, it was almost like a caress.
As he spins me away, then close to him, I look up into his eyes, which are partially covered by his hair flopping into them, and try to decipher what lies beneath. Did I imagine that he told me he loved me? Have I wanted to hear those words from him for such a long time that I’ve conjured them up in my mind?
The music ends and as our eyes meet again, Dexter smiles and thanks me for the dance, then turns away, disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the party. And now I’m even more confused than before.