Chapter 14
Scott dressed for the heat. He wore khaki shorts, a Hawaiian blue shirt with sea turtles on it, and leather sandals. A straw hat with a sangria-colored ribbon adorned his head, the same one his father wore.
Scott walked out front where a taxi driver leaned up against his car, a cigarette pressed up against his thin lips. His white short-sleeve shirt hung loosely around his slim frame, and salsa music played from his car stereo.
Scott checked his watch again.
“You must be waiting for someone special,” the taxi driver said. “You’re checking your watch so much you’re going to sprain your wrist.”
“She’s just a friend,” Scott said.
The taxi driver rolled his eyes.
Through the archway, Daniela appeared in a tango red dress with a white rose on the shoulder, and white slip-on shoes. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon.
"You look beautiful," Scott said.
The taxi driver shot Scott a knowing look. “Just a friend,” he mumbled to himself.
“It’s a traditional Mexican dress,” Daniela said. “I always wear one on Christmas.”
A small man appeared behind her. He wore dark sunglasses and held a long white cane, tapping it on the ground as he walked. Daniela’s father was blind.
He had a gray mustache and tanned, rough skin, the kind you get from working outside most of your life.
A few straggly gray hairs peeked out from his straw fedora.
He wore a short sleeve guayabera shirt the color of coral.
A cigar peeked out from his breast pocket.
His old fashioned, brown linen, pleated pants were neatly pressed and broke just above his brown leather shoes.
Scott had to hand it to the old guy. He had style.
“Are you taking us to the cliff divers today?" the old man said to Scott.
“Yes.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”