28. You really know how to make traffic interesting.
28 /
you really know how to make traffic interesting.
charlie
I am unwell. And it’s from watching this man, who has been unabashedly taking up space in my mind and causing bodily reactions I did not realize were possible. He’s making me sweat. The kind of sweat you get when you have a fever, so it's sticky and all over, and yet you feel like you can’t wipe it away, you know? Like it’s there, but it’s not really there, it just feels like it’s there. Just the ghost of sweat silently present and very much unwelcome.
I watched the adorable duo bake a cake that smells absolutely heavenly, all while they razzed one another, occasionally flicking orange peels when the other wasn’t looking. At one point, Rafael threw an orange slice in the air and caught it between his teeth and then winked at me. I swear this man was written by a woman. He doesn’t actually exist.
Now, we’re packing the cake up to take home—because they both insisted this was for me all along.
“We have a birthday celebration happening in a couple of weeks. It would be lovely if you could come, Charlie. The Machados can be a little over the top, but I promise we’re harmless. At least at first,” Ana Maria says, laughing at her own joke. It’s impossible not to join her. She is infectious in the most wonderful way.
“Oh, um?—”
“Vó, don’t pressure her. You don’t have to answer now, red. And you don’t have to come. But you would be more than welcome.” Rafael looks at me with an apology in his eyes.
“It’s really lovely of you to invite me.” When I see the wall of muscle next to me step closer, I raise a hand, knowing he’s likely going to tell me again that I don’t have to come. “My only hesitation is that my sister is about to have a baby, and I want to make sure she’s okay and doesn’t need anything. Is that all right?”
Warm hands close around one of mine. “You’re a good sister, Charlie. Of course that is all right. Just know you are welcome here anytime.” She squeezes my hand and turns to her grandson, pulling him into a hug that has him closing his eyes. “See you Sunday, moleque.” She pats his cheek in a borderline aggressive manner, and he smiles broadly at her.
As we walk out, I wonder how those hugs must feel. I also feel incredibly grateful that Ana Maria didn’t make me feel like I needed to hug her as well. And then my mind wanders to whether Rafael told her about me. Warned her about my sensitivities. I hope he didn’t, even if I would understand it if he did. I don’t like to be treated differently based on someone’s assumptions or whatever little knowledge they might have of me.
As we settle into the car, the cake safely stashed at my feet, Rafael exhales loudly while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about her. If she was too touchy or pushy. I didn’t get the chance to ask her to give you space or anything.”
“She was lovely. She is lovely. And I had a great time, so thanks for bringing me here.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “I really would like to come and meet your family. I mean, I will most likely feel overwhelmed and overstimulated, but if they’re anything like you, Arthur, and your grandmother, I think it would be okay. I think I would be okay.” I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road because I’m not entirely convinced what I said is true, but I really want it to be.
“Well, you have time to decide what you want to do. No pressure, okay?” In my peripheral, I see his neck twist so he can look at me twice, but I keep my gaze locked ahead.
“Thanks,” I whisper. And then we continue the journey in silence, neither of us feeling the need to add to it.
Once we get closer to LA, traffic is at a complete standstill, and I finally feel like I’ve caught up with my thoughts.
“Would you take me on a date?” It might seem like a random question, but I’ve been thinking about this. After an average—at best—time with Zach, I want a good, fun date without having to try so hard to be someone I’m not. Without worrying about getting unwanted dick pics.
“You really know how to make traffic interesting.” He smiles, adjusting the temperature on his side of the car to a couple of degrees cooler.
“Are you going to answer my question?” I ask impatiently.
“Oh, my sweet pumpkin pie, I will definitely, definitely take you on a date.” The sweet added ahead of the nickname has my cheeks heating up, and the double definitely makes me hold my breath, though I’m not sure why. “How’s Friday night? As long as Maeve hasn’t had or isn’t having her baby, that is.” He checks his blind spot and merges lanes while making room for the person ahead. While people are honking and driving far too close to other cars, Rafael is calmly moving along, letting others in front of him. So considerate.
“Friday is great, yeah. What should we do?” As much as I’d like him to take the reins, I’d plan the date if it meant getting to do what I wanted.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that. I’ll send you any necessary menus and itineraries by Thursday morning?” He’s very casual about it. Almost professional.
“Are you preparing for a date or a business meeting?” I try to force my tone to be playful. I have no idea if it’s successful until he laughs. Success.
“Oh, definitely a date, shorty.” He nods and then smiles completely to himself, and the residual feeling in me is akin to when someone says they have something to tell you, but they can’t tell you until later . How can you think of anything else until that happens? How will I?
I don’t.
I spent Wednesday writing and going for walks. Every word is filled with tension, with anticipation, and with all the feelings I’m currently experiencing. Jittery limbs, accelerated heart rate, this fluttery feeling deep in my belly, and the intense tightening of muscles when I dare imagine what this date might be like.
I fear Rafael is about to ruin me for all other men for no other reason than he is simply too thoughtful, too perceptive, too damn nice and good.
On Thursday morning at nine o’clock sharp, my phone vibrates on the coffee table next to my full cup of mint tea because the thought of adding caffeine to my already hyperactive body and mind is completely bananas.
RAFAEL:
Hey, is it okay if we get going at around 3 tomorrow afternoon? If not, I can skip the first part I had planned, but I really think you’ll like it.
He follows that up with a blushing smiley face, and I can picture it. I can picture the exact shade on his cheeks, the exact smile on his face, and it brings a ridiculously goofy grin to my own.
ME:
Totally fine.
Are you going to tell me anything else?
I fight the urge to send follow-up texts with more questions.
RAFAEL:
Of course. Here’s the menu for dinner.
He sends an image of a handwritten piece of paper with four options for entrées, four mains, and four desserts. All of it sounds amazing.
RAFAEL:
No need to dress fancy or anything, but we’ll be outside for a portion of the evening, so maybe bring a sweater? It’s supposed to be a bit chilly tomorrow. Pack something comfortable to change into. Whatever you might wear to watch a movie with the girls. Sweat pants or something, I don’t know. Just something to change into that’s more comfortable than whatever you’ll have on.
I feel like I already said way too much.
Since we’re starting out early, do you want a coffee when I pick you up? A snack, maybe?
You know what, never mind. I’ll definitely have a coffee, but if you want a snack, too, just let me know.
Seriously? He wants to present me with coffee and a snack when he picks me up? I should be taking notes. Who wants flowers before a date when you can get coffee and snacks?
ME:
I’d never say no to a snack.
I’ll pack some comfortable clothes, though I’m extremely curious as to why I would need them.
RAFAEL:
So… see you tomorrow at 3?
ME:
See you tomorrow at 3.
Great. I have thirty-one hours to prepare for this, which is completely fine because I should only need every single one to sort this out since I can’t ask Lainey or my sister to help. It’s fine. This is all good practice and prep.
At least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.