32. Love Is A Color And A Feeling
LOVE IS A COLOR AND A FEELING
Alejandro
Dahlia and Lettie have been acting strange all week.
Almost every day this week they’ve gone out shopping and when they get home, they lock themselves in Lettie’s room and won’t let anyone inside. Not even Allegra. They whisper and they conspire and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were plotting something. Only question is what.
When the secret glances at dinner become too much I say, “The two of you look like you’re up to no good.”
Lettie’s jaw drops and Dahlia sits up straighter in her seat as their voices overlap.
“I am not!” My sister proclaims indignantly while my wife opts for a more demure, “You are imagining things.”
I cut them both a look of suspicion before turning to Diego and Karina for back up.
Karina couldn’t care less about what’s happening on the other side of the table and focuses on eating her steamed broccoli while Diego pours himself his third glass of wine for the evening.
Allegra sits on my lap and every once in a while I look down to see her depositing one vegetable after the other on my plate.
She’s already starting to grow out of the desire to be held and carried everywhere and now insists on having her own big girl seat at the dinner table.
Except on nights like tonight when one of her least favorite dishes is being served.
Then it’s “Tio this” and “Tio that” and “Tio I want to sit with you” and this Tio is the idiot who lets her.
I’m terrible with children; I used to do this with Lettie all the time.
It’s why she grew up to be a spoiled, undisciplined brat.
I indulged her in whatever she pleased and it seems Allegra has inherited her aunt’s skill of eyelash batting and pretty pleading.
And I’m the fool who continues to fall for it.
“I was thinking,” Dahlia takes a sip of her water. “We should go on a date.”
“A date?”
“Yes, a date.”
Allegra’s head pops up at that. “Me too!”
Dahlia smiles and reaches across the table for her hand to kiss it. “This is a grown up, date Lela.”
“Grown up?” I tease. “How grown up?”
“Alex.”
I cover Allegra’s ears. “Rated R?”
Dahlia laughs.
“PG-13? Either way, I’m delighted.”
“Do you mind?” Diego says. “My child is at the dinner table.”
Dahlia removes my hands from Allegra’s ears. Her head swings back and forth between the two of us, particularly vexed at having been excluded from the conversation. “Me too!” she insists.
“Lela, want to go get gelato later?” Lettie suggests.
She gasps and nods, previous complaints forgotten.
“I want to take you on a tour of the house.” Dahlia says.
Karina makes a face. “That’s your idea of a date?”
Lettie flings a piece of broccoli across the table which hits Karina square on the nose. Caught off guard, she reels back and Diego has to grab her chair to keep her from toppling over.
“Lettie!” she exclaims.
“Sorry, it slipped.”
Dahlia casts a glance of disapproval at my sister who begrudgingly rolls her eyes.
Diego’s brows furrow as a thought occurs to him. “Does this have anything to do with the God-awful drilling I heard earlier? I was sitting in the living room trying to work and it was driving me crazy.”
Dahlia narrows her eyes at him. “You mean my living room? In my apartment?”
“Your living room gets better lighting. Sometimes I go there to read.” Karina adds.
“All right!” Lettie slams her hands down on the table and stands. She points an accusatory finger at them both. “You and you let’s go. Dinner is over. Grab the little one too.”
Diego and Karina’s protests overlap.
“But I just poured myself another glass of wine.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Out!” She orders.
Lettie comes around to scoop Allegra out of my lap before dragging her parents out by their ears.
Diego tries taking his wine with him but Lettie pushes him out like a drill sergeant and the glass ends up tipping over instead.
Dahlia drops her face in her hands and hides until the door eventually slams shut.
I stare at their empty seats in disbelief.
“What just happened?”
She peeks out from behind her fingers to make sure the room is empty. When she’s satisfied, she gets up from her seat and tugs on my arm. “I have a surprise.”
“What—”
“Let’s go!”
She practically yanks me out of my seat and I knock over a wine glass and breadbasket on my way out. I stumble after her as she leads us down the hall only for her to turn around at the last minute and send us crashing into each other.
I grab her shoulders to steady her. “Dahlia, Dios mío—”
“Close your eyes!”
I glance over her shoulder. We’re in the galley—the main hallway connecting all the different pathways in the apartment.
We just came from the direction of the dining room and up ahead are the formal living room, office library, and foyer.
In one direction is the hall that sections off into Lettie’s private quarters.
Dona Ana’s room is toward the back of the apartment where the stairs take us down to the main kitchen.
In the opposite direction is our bedroom, a few guest rooms, and a door connecting the playroom in Karina’s apartment to ours.
The entire thing is labyrinthine and it's just the way Dahlia likes it.
It makes living here feel like living in an old castle.
“You’re acting very strange.”
“Can you please!” She giggles and lifts my hands to my eyes. “Follow me.”
I keep my hands over my eyes as she pushes me from behind.
I take purposefully slow, small steps that frustrate her as she tries to steer me in the direction she wants.
She huffs and groans with irritation behind me and I smile every time she pushes between my shoulders to insist I go faster.
Judging by how far we’ve walked I imagine we’ve already passed our bedroom which begs the question: what exactly is she trying to surprise me with?
The only thing past this point are empty rooms and the door leading to Allegra’s playroom.
“Okay, we’re almost there. Keep your eyes closed!”
“Is this some kind of sex game?”
“Alex.”
“I just want to make sure. This is me consenting in advance.”
She tugs on my belt.
“I’m definitely consenting to that.”
I can hear the way she tries to stifle her laughter but can’t. “Watch your step.”
I follow the insistent pull at my waist and take a sidestep before coming to a stop when she presses a hand against my chest.
“Okay, here.”
“Can I open my eyes yet?”
“Stop being so impatient! Let me open the door first.”
“This is becoming more interesting by the minute.”
She touches my waist again to urge me over the threshold. I feel her hands wrap around my bicep as she brings me further into the room, the sound of our shoes clicking against hard wood floors echoing and bouncing around us. Dahlia takes a few steps back and waits a beat.
“Okay. Open!”
I’m not sure what to expect but curiosity gets the better of me. I open my eyes and survey the empty guestroom. Only one is furnished and it’s across the hall. Lyss sleeps there whenever she visits.
“Tada!” she throws her arms up, expression exuberant.
I smile in return. “It looks…great.”
A coy smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Do you like it?”
“Mhm…” I take a slow turn on my heels as I take in the room’s appearance—in the darkness, no less. The only light in here is coming from the streetlights outside the window and the last remnants of this evening’s sunset. “Se ve muy bien.”
Dahlia’s always fixing something. Floors, windowsills, antique doorknobs, faded mural wallpaper, tilework.
The problem is figuring out what she restored this time.
Could it be the ceiling? Or maybe the crown molding?
No, she’d have turned all the lights on if that was the case otherwise how would I notice?
Diego mentioned something about a drill earlier…
I take a look at the door we walked through. Something is always changing in this house so I tend not to pay much attention to the details but I specifically remember a door in this hall making an awful creaking noise when it opened. Could it have been this one?
“The door,” I declare with a confidence I don’t feel. “It looks great.”
“Doesn’t it? I replaced the hinges today. Finally got rid of the horrible sound it made every time it opened.”
“Thank God…” I rush out in relief. Dahlia lifts a brow. “I mean, thank God you did! The noise was horrible.”
She holds her hands behind her back. The smile never leaves her face. “And everything else?”
Dios santísimo, there’s more.
“Claro, mi amor. The, uh, floors. They look great.”
“Mm.” She hums.
“And the walls are such a nice color. It feels very antique.”
“Really?” she frowns and presses a finger against her lips, deep in thought. “I was thinking of changing it.”
“Lo que decidas será perfecto.” I cradle her face between my palms and press a kiss against her lips. “Like everything else you’ve done.”
“No, no. I don’t like this color. It isn’t a very happy color for what I intend to do here.”
“And what would that be?”
She takes my hand and guides us to the windowsill where we sit side by side. A little box rests on the ledge and she extends it to me. “For you.”
“For me?”
“I told you I had a surprise.”
I accept the box, small and square, no bigger than the palm of my hand and tied with a neat white bow. I lean forward and kiss her twice. “Eres tan linda, mi amor.”
Dahlia expels a shaky breath but her smile never falters.
Have I gotten something wrong? Did I forget an anniversary of some sort?
I can’t be sure. We gift each other often; little things of little significance to anyone but us.
A book she think I might like, a bracelet I saw that made me think of her.
Tickets to a movie we might enjoy together or a weekend alone in the villa when a house as big as ours starts to feel small.