Chapter 25 Javier
Twenty-Five
Javier
“Headphones? Check. Water cup? Yes. Barbie with pink hair? Check. Oh, shoot!” Octavia cursed under her breath as she shuffled through Aleesa’s overnight bag. “No, come on.”
“What is it?” I asked as her frown became more evident and her hand went deeper into the bag.
“I forgot her bedtime books.”
“It should be fine. She will be okay for two nights without her books, Octavia,” I said.
“She begged for those books, Javier. Once she realizes I don’t have them, she’ll flip.” She pulled away from the bag and folded her arms. “You know she will too.”
I looked from Octavia to Aleesa, who was currently occupied with a flavored-water juice box and Cheez-Its in a snack pouch. Her iPad was already set up on the back of one of the private plane seats, and her seat belt was clicked into place. She was all ready for takeoff and perfectly content now.
But Octavia was right. Once bedtime rolled around, she’d have an episode when she realized her favorite books weren’t there.
Aleesa was not a fan of sleeping in new places. She loved our home and especially her bedroom. Most times when we traveled, she had a hard time adjusting to new settings, so those little comforts like bedtime books and Barbies mattered.
“You are right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We will make time to stop by a bookstore before her bedtime.” I craned my neck to look out the door that revealed the tarmac. “Where the hell is my sister?”
“I am so glad there is wine,” my mother said, waltzing from the back of the plane with a bottle of pinot grigio.
I shook my head. “Má, it is twelve in the afternoon.”
“This is needed! Hijo, you know I get way too anxious on these things you call planes. You are lucky I am even here for this.” She placed the bottle down on a nearby table.
“I never asked you to come. You invited yourself,” I reminded her.
She scowled. “Do not get smart with me.”
Octavia huffed a laugh as she tucked Aleesa’s bag under her seat.
“That is funny?” I asked, folding my arms.
“A six-five giant getting told off by his petite five-foot mother? Comical.” Octavia chuckled. “It’s good to know you still fear her.”
She was right. I did fear my mother at times. Any sign of disrespect toward her and I knew to expect a shoe to smack my head.
“I am just saying, you should not be back there, Mamá.” I put my attention on my mother again. “Let the flight attendant do her job. I am sure she does not mind helping.”
“The flight attendant is taking too long.” My mother ducked off again, only to return with a mechanical bottle opener. She got to work opening the bottle right away as Margery, our flight attendant, appeared.
Margery’s eyes widened, then swung my way, apologetic and a bit panicky.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Valdez. I was storing your bags and didn’t realize—”
“Do not worry about it, Margery. It is not your fault my mother is impatient.”
Margery smiled, though her cheeks were bright red. “Is there anything else I can get you all?”
“Xanax?” I joked, eyeing my mother.
This time, my mother did remove her flip-flop to chuck it at me. I dodged it just in time, and it smacked into one of the walls.
Octavia broke out in laughter. My mother, of course, was scowling at me again. Aleesa giggled.
“Do you see what I put up with, amor?” I smiled and winked at my daughter.
“I pray mi nina doesn’t grow up being so rude like her father.”
Something caught my ear, and I looked out of the door of the plane again. Coming up the stairs and into the jet was Catalina. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a crop top, and jeans. Her hair was all over the place, as if she had just been running or something.
“Finally,” I said as she stumbled onto the jet. “What took you so long? We were supposed to take off twenty minutes ago.”
“I know, I know.” Catalina waved a dismissive hand as she plopped down in one of the seats. “The Uber driver’s car got a flat tire. I had to run the rest of the way.”
“Aw, man. I’m glad you made it,” Octavia said.
“Yes, and you are here now. That is all that matters.” My mother handed Catalina a glass of wine, and my sister gladly accepted it. My mother then glanced at Octavia, giving her a weird up-and-down look.
“I would ask you, Octavia, but I do not think it is wise for you to drink on the job.”
Octavia pursed her lips, looking from my mother to me.
“She can have a drink if she would like, Má,” I said. What the hell was that about?
“It’s okay.” Octavia forced a smile. “She’s definitely right. I don’t want a drink right now anyway. It’s fine.” She glanced at my mother a few times, slightly confused. Then she took the seat next to Aleesa.
I frowned at my mother, and she finally looked at me.
“What?” She threw her hands into the air, trying to be innocent.
“Pórtate bien, Mamá.” I gave her a stern eye, insisting that she behave.
Yes, I feared my mother in certain ways, but I also knew that she did not care much for my nannies. She always assumed they wanted more from me or were flirting with me. She could be overwhelmingly protective.
“I did nothing wrong,” she muttered in Spanish. She rolled her eyes, taking a long sip of wine.
Octavia was looking between us, brows puckered, trying to figure out what we were talking about.
“Are we ready to go now?” I asked, looking between all of them.
“Ready,” Catalina said.
“Yep,” Octavia answered.
My mother strapped in, performed the sign of the cross, and then took another big gulp of wine. “I am ready,” she said.
I swear, that woman drove me crazy. Hell, all the women on the plane drove me crazy.
I took the seat across from Aleesa (diagonally across from Octavia), swapping out her iPad for a coloring book and crayons. Because I could not help myself, I stole a glance at Octavia, who was asking Aleesa what the color names were for each crayon she pointed at.
Things had shifted since the night of the hot tub.
That had happened a full week ago. I noticed that when she took care of Aleesa, she would not be downstairs with her as much.
She would be in Aleesa’s bedroom, the playroom, or the theater room.
She also spent more time around the pool, took more walks, and hung out with Aleesa in the guesthouse.
It was clear she was trying to avoid me. I could only blame myself for that, really. It was not like I’d expected things to evolve into more with Octavia. I wanted what she wanted—something simple and easy that did not sink too deep.
No, I was not looking to be in a relationship or to be committed, but hearing her immediately reject anything even remotely serious between us, before even giving it a real chance, made me wonder if what we were doing was worth it.
And maybe that was because a tiny part of me, buried deep down, was open to the idea of us growing closer.
But if we did not grow closer, would she even remember me if I never saw her again? And would I be okay with watching her walk away? What if she went back on her word and ended up with that terrible man, Luther, again? And even if that happened, why did I care so much what she did with her life?
I was definitely thinking too much about it. Truthfully, I was just a lonely man who did not know how to handle this delicate situation with her. If I came on too strongly, she would pull away. If I didn’t come forward at all, she would assume I did not want her around.
This was a hard game to play, so for now, I just followed her lead.
And I guess right now, that was to practice avoiding each other as much as possible and keeping things professional.