Lonely Heart (9 page)

Since she had money in her pocket, she didn’t stay at home on her days off. She seemed to be making friends at her job and hung out with them. While she was a grown woman, I’d do my best to keep her from getting mixed up in the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles.

One bad decision could alter the course of your life forever.

My life was proof.

“Good idea, thanks, Tiffy.”

My ankles were swollen
and my back ached. In my room, I stripped off my clothes before climbing into bed, thankful she’d finally purchased her own mattress and moved into the guest room. I
had missed stripping down to my undies and not putting anything else on.

In bed, eyes closed, the image of Mrs. Alvarez’s tear stained face appeared on the back of my eyelids. What would I do if one of my children died? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

My thoughts went back to Antonio.

I leaned over the edge of my bed for my purse and retrieved the business card he had given me. The front bore the shop number, while the back had his cell. I dialed; it went to voicemail. Not wanting to leave a message, I hung up. A few seconds later, my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Antonio, it’s me, Kaity. I’m sorry if this is a bad time…”

“Kaity, no, it’s okay. Did you just call?”

“Yes. I ran into your grandmother. She told me what happened. I wanted to say how sorry I am about your uncle.”

“Oh…thanks.”

A group of people walked by him, their voices loud.

“I won’t hold you on the phone. I just wanted to share my condolences.”

“Hold on…” Antonio’s voice got muffled, then, silence. “Sorry, I’m at my uncle’s house. It seems everyone in the family is crammed into one room.”

“Your grandmother said she was on her way over to help plan the funeral.”

“Everyone is trying to have their say. I don’t care what they decide. I love…loved my uncle. He was a second father.” He paused. “All he needs is a funeral where everyone can pay their last respects. It doesn’t matter how much the casket costs, he hated spending money on unnecessary things.” A dry laugh came through the phone. “If he knew they were planning to spend four grand on a casket, he’d come back from the dead, demanding to be cremated.”

Laughter escaped before I could cover my mouth. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

Antonio chuckled, then laughed louder. “No, thanks, I needed that. It’s been a rough night. It was me and Fernando, his son, who found him in his office. He was still breathing…” He sighed heavily as his voice deepened. “I can’t help wonder if he would have lived if we would have found him sooner. We were in the garage working before we found him.” He paused. “I’ve seen way too much death in my lifetime,” he mumbled. “I’m not even thirty yet.”

The sorrow in his voice was audible; I could only imagine what type of guilt he must feel. Every part of me wished I could hug him. It was my nature to console those around me.

“Have they decided on a date for the funeral?”

“Saturday.”

“Oh, shoot. I want to come, but my baby shower is the same day. Maybe I can still make it. What time?”

“That’s nice of you, but don’t trouble yourself. The last thing you want to do is spend the day with grieving people you don’t know. Your day should be spent celebrating the new life inside of you.”

“To be honest, after our last conversation, I consider us friends. I want to support you and your grandmother.”

“Kaity, that’s…more than I expected.”

My cheeks heated. Why did I say it?

The sound of banging and a loud voice in the background interrupted the call. Antonio muffled the phone again. “I have to go. It appears my hideout has been discovered. They need me at the family meeting.”

“Where were you?”

“The bathroom.”

“And you expected that to work?” This time I didn’t hide my laugh since he said he liked it. Maybe it would make him feel better.

“I wasn’t thinking because it was good to hear your voice.” He paused. “I’ll talk to you later.”

When he hung up, I lay down and fought to get comfortable. Pillows rested between my knees, beneath my expanding belly, and behind my back. The attempt did nothing to relieve the stress and strain of my weight gain.

Six weeks until Delivery Day.

My eyes closed, I focused on happy thoughts. All effort was lost because Antonio’s voice played around in my head. His pain radiated through the line. I wished there was something I could do for him. But how?

Calling him my friend was a bit out of context. We were acquaintances because he worked on my car and the fact that his grandmother lived across the hall. And okay, yes, he helped me at the laundromat and I called to check on him just now. But that’s all we were.

Friends…what type of friendship could a single man form with an equally single, pregnant woman carrying another man’s baby?

Besides, we were from two different worlds. I knew nothing about his culture, though I’m sure mine was pretty easy to understand.

Mental head slap. Instead of worrying about my friendship with Antonio, I needed to concentrate on how to handle my relationship with Luke. After all, he was the father of my child. In a few weeks, things were going to elevate to a whole new level.

I will never understand the reason for a wake.

After burying the dead, why would anyone sit around eating and drinking as if it were time to party? Why celebrate death?

I loosened the knot of my necktie and wandered through my uncle’s home. His wife sat in the living room, wiping tears from her eyes while various family members consoled her.

Neighbors, friends, and family were everywhere. It was hard to breathe.

“Antonio!”

My sister’s voice caught my attention over the din of voices. A spoon waving frantically over heads in the crowded living room indicated her location. I repeatedly excused myself and made my way over to the doorway of the kitchen where meal preparations were being made.

“¿Que?”

“Can you check on Julio? He’s out back with the other kids.”

“Sí.” Anything to escape the confines of the crowded house.

She gave me a look of gratitude and went back to work.

I passed the twins who handed out drinks to guests scattered around the house. My father and grandmother were sitting side-by-side in my aunt’s sewing room off the kitchen, in deep, private conversation.

I opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. A bunch of children who’d been freed from their parents’ side ran the length of the yard playing some form of tag. My gaze took in the kiddie crowd. Julio sat alone; his hands and suit we bought for the funeral were covered in dirt. Adrianna would be pissed. I allowed myself to smile.

“Want one?”

My cousin’s slightly slurred voice drew my attention.

Fernando leaned against the railing on the far side of the porch. He offered a can of beer while lifting another to his mouth.

My cousin no longer bore the demeanor he put on during the service. His suit jacket was gone and tie undone, hanging from his neck. The top buttons of his shirt were even open.

“How many have you had?”

He shrugged. “Not enough, believe me.”

I reached for the can, examined the label. “This isn’t what’s being served inside. Where did you get it?” The cold liquid felt good going down.

He took another swig. “Mi Papi’s stash in the garage. Mamí never found out about it.” He smiled in memory. “He stopped drinking years ago, but kept a mini fridge hidden behind his tools. He knew she’d never come looking around his stuff.”

I chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

“He didn’t drink them, though. It was more about defiance than anything else. Whenever I’d come visit, we’d sit out here and he’d give me one.” His eyes watered. “Why did I procrastinate? He died not knowing at least one of us would follow in his footsteps.”

I clapped him on the back. “He would have been proud.”

Fernando ran a hand over his already disheveled hair. “I wish we could have found him sooner…maybe…just maybe…”

I pulled him in, held him as he sobbed. When he pulled himself back together, we went back to drinking our beer and watching the children play in silence.

There were times when no amount of words said could mean a damn thing.

Fernando resumed his spot on the far side of the porch, while I stood in front of the railing, watching the kids. My mind drifted back to the time when we were young and the many times I spent the night. Tio Alejandro would be in the detached garage working on a car. I’d try and convince my cousin to put down the Hot Wheels so we could join his father and learn about the real thing. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. I couldn’t imagine how guilty he must be feeling right now. So much time wasted that could never be regained.

“We can’t keep waiting.”

“We don’t have a choice. It will be a few weeks before the will is read.”

“It won’t matter; we know how it’s going to read. We need a plan in place. I’ve got bills to take care of. The sooner, the better.”

My eyes narrowed as Ramon and Javier walked around the side of the house. The moment they saw us, they stopped. A glance in Fernando’s direction shown his face hardened and fist balled.

“You two can’t be serious,” he said.

Confused, I studied each of the brothers. “About what?”

“Selling the shop.” Fernando spat, literally, on the ground.

I blinked as the words registered. “They want to do what?”

“These two idiotas want to sell Papi’s business.” He waved the beer in their direction, his voice growing louder.

I placed my can on the railing before crushing it, trying my best to temper my outrage. “Hold on, your father’s been in the ground less than four hours. You guys are making plans to get rid of his legacy?”

Ramon, the oldest of the three, smirked. “It’s none of your concern what we do, grease monkey. This is a
family
business. While we share blood, your name is not Alvarez.”

Was he serious? “It is my business because I work there.”

“Worked, past tense,” Javier chimed in.

My jaw clenched in time with my fist. “What are you talking about?”

Ramon approached the porch, but stopped on the stairs. He knew not to come near me at a time like this. “You’re fluent in English and Spanish. Which one should I use to spell it out?”

“You can’t shut down Papi’s garage! It’s his legacy!” Fernando yelled.

Both brothers smirked.

“Like you care. You’ve spent just as much time there as we did,” Javier said.

“That’s not the point,” Fernando replied, unable to hide the fact the comment stung.

“Oh, I beg to differ, hermano,” Ramon said. “This is going to be a payday for all of us. We’ve done our research. That corner is prime real estate. With the changes being made to the area, Papi’s received numerous offers. He could have sold it years ago. But now…” Ramon rubbed his hands together, practically popping a hard on from anticipation. “We can sell the business, split the profits, and make sure Mami is taken care of…simple. Offers are already coming in.”

“What gives you the authority to make that decision?” My heart sunk, because inside, I knew the answer.

Javier walked up the steps, dug into his pocket, and placed a beat up business card on the railing. “Alvarez and
Sons
. You’re neither.”

My eyes felt hard as steel. “That may be true, but what about the men who work there? What about their families, their livelihood?”

“Boys, what is going on out here?”

We all turned to find my aunt standing on the porch. She appeared fragile. Her eyes red, her shoulders were hunched, covered with a shawl. Her bone-white knuckles clutched the edges despite the fact there was barely a chill in the air.

Titi Carmelita studied each of us. Her eyes settled on her two oldest sons. “You think I don’t know what you boys are up to?” Her voice was low, pain evident. “Your voices are so loud the entire block knows! Your father hasn’t been gone a week and instead of mourning him, you stand outside his house disrespecting his memory by…by…” Unable to finish she succumbed to tears.

My grandmother walked outside and put an arm around her in support. “You boys should be ashamed of yourselves!” She cursed in Spanish, then murmured to her daughter-in-law. Titi nodded. They wrapped their arms around each other, then went inside.

My father stepped onto the porch and pointed at the four of us. “Don’t move.” Once the women were inside, he faced us with an expression I knew well. “If you ever disrespect the memory of your father in his house again, so help me God,” he said to Ramon and Javier, his teeth grinding so loud I could hear them. “Don’t think you’re too old for me to lay a hand on you. Your father would be turning over in his grave right now if he could hear the things you’ve said. And how dare you disrespect your mother and grandmother! They are grieving! Go inside and apologize! Ahora!”

Ramon and Javier plastered on looks of sorrow and did as they were told.

My father’s attention turned to Fernando. “Whatever you do, don’t follow their path, you’re better than that.” Fernando nodded. “You’re the only one who seems to know what your mother is going through. Don’t worry about those idiotas right now. That’s a discussion for another time and place. Right now, your mother needs you. ”

Fernando nodded, swallowed the last of his beer, then crushed the can.

The minute he disappeared; I cursed and slapped my palm on the railing.

“Oh no, you’re not clear of this nonsense. I raised you better than that.”

“Papi, por favor, let me explain.”

His hand went up. “I know what they are up to.”

“What? Why am I the last to know about it? Could they really do it, Papi? Could they sell the shop? What about─”

His hand came up; I shut my mouth. “You of all people should know this is not the time or place for that type of conversation. The time now is for mourning the loss of family. That is all. Everything else can wait.”

Before I responded, his raised eyebrow made me hold my tongue. “I’ve got to get out of here. If I see them again, I’m liable to punch them both in the mouth. Do me a favor, apologize to Titi for me and let her know I’ll check on her tomorrow.”