Faith in You (13 page)

Chapter 19

Getting away had been the best thing she could have done, Carmen realized as she walked down the steps of Lowe Library and headed back to her apartment. The class work kept her from thinking too much and the New York environment provided little opportunity for introspection. There was so much to see and do, such a hectic pace between the classes and studying, that Paul barely crept into her mind.

Except for moments such as these, when the weekend was rising up before her, empty and lonely except for whatever sightseeing either she or her cousins had planned. Of course, she could accept one of the invitations she had received from her male classmates, go out on a date or to a party on campus. The problem was that they all seemed so young and immature compared to Paul and did nothing to stir her the way he had on that first
Noche Buena
. It seemed so long ago and yet in just over a month, it would be a year since she had first met him.

A year of so much promise and so much disappointment.

She shook her head, as if by doing so, she could shake off those thoughts. The problem was they had been there for days, prompted by her sister’s call about the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Carmen had never been away for the holiday, but it seemed a year for firsts and after all, it was New York and there was so much to see at this time of year. The big parade and a few weeks later, the tree in Rockefeller Center. And after that classes would be over just before Christmas and she could head home, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

The pain would be too fresh and raw there. Up here it was easier to forget. Easier to just lock herself in the apartment she was renting from her cousins and lick her wounds. Come the New Year she would be home again in Miami. Ready to start a new year and a new life, she hoped.

The decision made, Carmen crossed the street to her building intent on calling her family and telling them of her plans.

#

Connie walked toward his desk, smiling. “Hey, Paul. How are you?”

Paul smiled and was thankful they had been able to maintain a civil relationship. He valued both her friendship and her acumen as an agent. “Okay and you?”

“Good. Getting ready for the holidays. And you? Have any big plans for Thanksgiving?”

As a matter of fact, he did and smiled. “You better sit down for this one, Connie. I’m making Thanksgiving dinner for my brother and parents. Does that beat all or what?”

She did plop down on the edge of his desk then, surprise and concern evident in every line of her body. “Are you sure … I mean, I’m sorry, but … they always seem so busy.”

“You doubt that they’ll show?” Paul glanced down at his desktop at the envelope from the Greek islands and passed it to her, the action painfully familiar. “They promised they would try to make it.” He looked at her and the compassion on her face was almost too much to bear. “You told me to start believing, Connie. I figured this was a good start, although I might be wrong.”

Connie thought that a good start might have been going to see Carmen in New York. Her love was a sure thing, even with the passage of time. His brother and parents however were another story. “Maybe you should cancel and come to our house.”

“And see Carmen? Before I’m ready to?”

“She won’t be there,” Connie jumped in and registered the surprise on his face.

“But … you guys … I thought you always were together for the holidays.”

Connie breathed a deep sigh and shrugged. “I guess there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Yes, but --”

“Carmen decided there was a lot to see in New York. The flight was expensive and she had a lot of class work as well,” Connie advised, unwilling to let him know that Paul had also been a large part of the reason for Carmen’s decision.

Paul nodded, trying to seem as if he understood, but unable to. “Well, I’m sure her holidays and yours will be nice.”

“And yours, Paul. If things don’t work out, come over. Have some Cuban-style turkey and stuffing,” Connie offered.

Paul shook his head. “They’ll come,” he said with conviction, although he knew he was not only trying to convince her, but himself as well. The reception to his proposal had been lukewarm at best, but as he had told Connie earlier, he was trying to have faith. If his parents and brother could find it in their hearts to join him for this holiday, one that should have found him rejoicing in his newfound happiness but instead found him alone, then there was hope, wasn’t there? Then he could possibly start believing in himself and by doing so, in the love Carmen and he had shared.

He looked at Connie again, smiling tightly. “They’ll come,” he repeated again and when she reached over, hugged him, and he held on tight and hoped.

#

The table was elegantly laid with the fine china and silver. A turkey and remaining dishes waited in the kitchen, just about done.

Paul sat alone at the dining room table in his suit, waiting. No calls had come to explain their absence.

Nothing.

He sipped his glass of wine and glanced around at the fine appointments of his house. They should have brought him joy, but left him unmoved. All this around him, all the money that had helped him have this, could do nothing to ease the pain in his heart. To ease the emptiness of another holiday alone.

The one thing that could have kept him from his loneliness, that could have turned his house into a home, was gone. Sacrificed for all the material things around him.

He cursed and drained the glass of wine, poured himself another, intent on getting rip roaring drunk to ease his disappointment. For a moment, he had found that spark of belief deep in his heart and had planned this holiday gathering in anticipation of letting that spark grow within him and warm his heart.

As the minutes ticked by, the spark faltered and burned down to a cold, lifeless ash. He drained his second glass, stood, and walked into the kitchen, shut off the oven where the bulk of the meal waited. Loosening his tie, he turned, and started walking toward his bedroom, but the front doorbell rang.

He stopped short, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. He raced to the door, threw it open, and stopped in surprise. On his doorstep stood Connie, Victor, and her parents, arms laden with trays and bags. “They say if Mohammed won’t come to the mountain ….” Connie started and walked past him as she finished, “Bring the mountain to Mohammed.”

Victor rolled his eyes and trailed behind his wife while Paul remained at the door open-mouthed. “Rosa. Roberto. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say welcome and help me with this,” Roberto replied and handed Paul the roasting pan with the turkey.

Paul grabbed the bird and followed the entourage into the kitchen where they were busy spreading the plates across his kitchen counter. “How did you do all this? How did you know?” he asked and when Connie glanced at him guiltily, he knew in an instant. “You staked out my house?”

“Well, I did,” Victor admitted, placing a pan on the stove. “The rest were busy cooking.”

Paul looked at all of them, guilty faces staring at him, and the ash in his heart brightened, began to glow again. He smiled, walked over to Rosa and Roberto, and hugged them both.

Victor came over, shook his hand, and then finally, he walked over to Connie, gave her a tight hug and she held him tight, whispered in his ear, “Do you believe, now?”

The peal of the doorbell at that instant stopped him from answering, and he turned, surprised and expectant.

“It’s not Carmen,” Connie said immediately, clearly wanting to spare him any heartache.

Paul trusted her, but couldn’t imagine who it could be. He walked to the door, Connie and her family in tow behind him, like a mother duck and her ducklings. For the second time that night, Paul opened the door and experienced surprise.

His brother, ex-wife, and children stood on his doorstep and behind him were his parents. “We’re sorry we’re late, but when Cindy heard that you were hosting Thanksgiving dinner, she decided to come as well and it took some time to get the kids ready,” his brother apologized.

Paul motioned them in and as his family entered, encountered the Gonzalez family, there was a lot of handshaking and introductions. In a blaze of activity, the food was spread, and they were all quickly seated around the table.

As if planned, they quieted and looked to him. He nodded, reached out, and joined hands with Connie on the left and his mother on the right. Everyone copied him and he closed his eyes against the threat of tears, bowed his head. “Lord, I want to thank you for bringing our families together to share this very special meal.
Gracias
.”

When he raised his head, the empty seat at the other end of the table reminded him there was one more thing he had to do to make it all complete.

#

Step, two, three to the right and a shake of hips draped with a bright green plastic grass skirt. Then a step, two, three to the left and another shake.

Carmen shook her head at the outrageous skater on the ice, laughed, and glanced across the table at her cousin Alicia. “Is this lady for real?”

Alicia chuckled and shrugged. “Would you believe that she’s been here for as long as I can remember?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Carmen asked and took a last bite of her roast turkey.

Alicia Gonzalez nodded, looked out the bank of windows of the restaurant, and took a sip of her wine. “
Mami
brought us here all the time when we were kids. It was a tradition almost. A walk from Penn Station to see all the store windows with their Christmas displays. Then lunch here at Rockefeller Center and finally, over to Lincoln Center for
The Nutcracker
.”

Her voice grew husky as she finished, and Carmen knew that although the memories were good, they were still painful for her cousin. “You miss her,” she said softly, familiar with pain of a different kind.

Alicia’s eyes grew brilliant with unshed tears. “It’s harder at certain times of the year. I haven’t been here since
Mami
died and it’s been what? Nearly eleven years now?”

Carmen nodded and reached out to gently grasp Alicia’s hand. “Thank you for sharing this memory with me.”

Alicia smiled, a weak, watery smile, and brushed away a tear. “
Mami
would have wanted me to after all that your family did to make it easier. My summers in Miami are ones I will always treasure.”

“I’m glad,” Carmen responded and signaled to the waiter. “Now I don’t know about you, but something chocolate always helps at times like this.”

The waiter handed Alicia a menu first and then Carmen. She hesitated for only a second and said “The chocolate mousse” at the same time as her cousin.

Alicia laughed heartily and Carmen joined in, thankful for her cousin’s presence and for this wonderful time in New York.

#

Carmen sat at the kitchen table, staring at the plate of pasta she had purchased at the corner Italian restaurant. The food smelled wonderful and she was sure it tasted just as good, but she had little appetite.

It was
Noche Buena
and she should have been home in Miami, eating roast pork, beans, and plantains with her family. But she had refused to go home, insisting that a Christmas in New York would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for her. She should have accepted Alicia’s invitation to spend the holiday with her and her brother Rafael at their Midtown brownstone. But she wanted to be alone and envisioned Paul alone at home as well.

Would he likewise be sitting in the kitchen, eating a take-out meal and watching the news on television? Had this been how he had spent all his holidays? If he had, didn’t he have good reason for being uncertain of how families worked? Of how people loved one another?

Maybe she had been too harsh in judging him and maybe that little piece of paper shouldn’t have mattered as much. After all, wasn’t the important thing that they be together?

Her reverie was broken by the buzz of the apartment intercom. She rose and walked out of the kitchen to the speaker by the front door. Pressing the button, the static jumped to life along with an unfamiliar voice.

“Ms. Gonzalez?” a tinny voice asked.

“Yes. How can I help you?” she shouted back into the microphone in order to be heard.

“Delivery. I need you to sign,” came the reply.

Carmen groaned, not wanting to make the three flight trot down the stairs. “Can’t you just leave it?”

“I have explicit instructions, ma’am. I’d like to get home for the holidays,” the voice urged and she took pity on the man. It was Christmas Eve after all and he probably wanted to be home with his family.

“I’ll be right down,” she replied, grabbed her key and jogged down the three stairs. At the front door, she looked out through the glass to make sure. A tall man stood on the step, cap pulled down low on his forehead. He sported a dark goatee and the uniform of a well-known delivery service.

She opened the door, but remained in the doorway. The man handed her a clipboard, only took a very quick look at her as she signed and then reached for the package.

The courier handed her a medium-sized square box, only a few inches high. It was wrapped in bright red foil paper and lacked any outer wrapping or address labels. She shook it, heard something bump inside, and shrugged. She was about to walk in when the courier said, “I was instructed to have you open it here, ma’am.” His voice was gruff, low, and yet slightly familiar.

Carmen stopped and looked at him again intently, but he kept his face averted, the cap obscuring everything except his lips and dark brown goatee. His hair was brown as well and long. Not blonde, she heard in her mind, realizing his frame was similar to Paul’s, as were his lips.

“Ma’am,” he said again. “I would like to get home tonight,” he pressed, his voice insistent.

Carmen glanced down at the gift again, shrugged, and ripped off the paper, holding on to it with one hand, while with the other, she lifted the top off the box to reveal another smaller square box wrapped in similar red foil paper. Bits of paper were used as filler. She lifted out the smaller box, realized that the filler paper had printing on it and a familiar name caught her eye on one small scrap.