One of the Guys (12 page)

D
iego straightened
the blue tie on his three-piece suit. In a few minutes, he needed to leave to meet Ronnie and her father for dinner at Hearty Kitchen, the restaurant the college booked to celebrate Ezekiel and his contributions.

As he checked his appearance for the last time in the mirror, the doorbell rang.

Frowning because he wasn’t expecting anyone, Diego went to the door and inhaled a breath of shock when he saw Loisa standing there. Or rather a fragment of Loisa, because she clearly wasn’t herself. She tottered on the black heels and braced both hands against the doorjamb. Looking up at him with both eyes almost closed, so that it was nigh on impossible that she could even see him, she said, “
Hola
, Diego.” The words came out slurred.

Mierda
. She was drunk.

A taxi backed out of his driveway and Loisa pushed past him, stumbling into the house and collapsing into a sprawl on the sofa.

He shut the door. She shouldn’t be here. They’d had a long talk and he explained the situation—that he was in a committed relationship and she couldn’t come and stay with him while she looked for an apartment.

He ran a hand over the back of his head, thinking hard about how to handle the situation. Dinner with Ronnie and Ezekiel now seemed like an impossibility.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t be here. You told me not to come, but I couldn’t let you be alone tonight. It’s the Anniversary. I had to come.”

Diego walked over to the sofa and looked down at her. Bonkers, catnapping in the corner on her pillow, purred with one eye open, as if Loisa had disturbed her sleep.

“I wasn’t going to be alone. I had plans.”

“With who?” She sobered a little, sitting up with a wrinkled brow, hurt in her eyes.

“The woman I told you about.” Not that he needed to explain anything to her.

“Does she know how important tonight is?” Loisa asked.

“Yes, and that’s why I planned to spend the evening with her.”

“You said you always spend the Anniversary alone.” Accusation filled her voice, and she pouted.

Diego dropped to his haunches. She looked like a mess. Her clothes were in disarray, and a red stain colored the white blouse she wore half tucked into her skirt.

She was hurting, and she’d come to the one person she knew would understand the pain. Even though he hadn’t planned on spending any time with her tonight, he couldn’t turn her away. Certainly not in the state she was in.

“I normally do, but we can spend the Anniversary together tonight. If you want.”

“I do want,” she said, breathing the pungent scent of liquor into his face. “And you know what else I want?”

She bit her bottom lip, and Diego hesitated to respond. The look in Loisa’s eyes unnerved him.

“I want another baby, Diego. I want another baby—maybe a boy this time. Don’t you want another baby?” She released the top button of her blouse.

He held her hand to stop her from undressing. “Loisa, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do know what I’m doing.” She leaned closer, trying to be seductive, and almost fell over onto him. He clutched her shoulders and settled her back onto the sofa. She closed her eyes, face wrinkled into a grimace. “I want a baby,” she whispered. “I messed up. I want to make it up to you.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and seeing her in such distress twisted his insides.

This was the woman he’d loved. The woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with, and she was still suffering and torturing herself over an event neither of them could have foreseen or prevented.

“It was an accident. I don’t blame you,” he said quietly. He couldn’t argue that he’d blamed her at one time, but no more.

She opened eyes heavy with tears. “You left me. You stopped loving me because of what I did.”

“I don’t blame you anymore,” Diego said quietly.

“Do you forgive me?” She grabbed his shoulders and fell into him, knocking them both to the ground. He lay on the floor with her on top of him, her quiet sobs tearing into his conscience.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He cupped the back of her head and stroked her hair. “Now you have to forgive yourself.”

She sniffled. “I’m sorry I cheated. You needed me.”

Diego stared up at the ceiling. “You needed me, too, and I wasn’t there. We both screwed up, Loisa.”

“Maybe we could start over.” She lifted her head, dark streaks on her cheeks where her eye makeup mixed with the tears. Her eyes pleaded with him for another chance, but he couldn’t lie or give her false hope.

“It’s too late.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t you want another baby? Let me do that for you, Diego.”

Diego brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Not right now.”

She shook from the force of her tears. Fresh streaks replaced the ones he’d just removed. “I wish…” She dropped her head to his chest. “I never loved him, you know. I was just…”

“I know.”

He rubbed her back. She had needed Diego, and he hadn’t been available—physically or mentally. He was as much to blame for the dissolution of their relationship as she. He’d sought comfort in a bottle. She’d sought comfort in the arms of another man.

Diego lifted off the floor with her in his arms and took her into his bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed and removed her shoes. He covered her, and when he moved to leave the room, she lifted a hand toward him.

“You’re not leaving me, are you?” she asked, in a pitifully feeble voice.

“I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

Diego closed the door quietly behind him and went back into the living room. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Loisa didn’t follow, he paced for a few minutes. Finally, he dialed Ronnie’s number.

He hated to bail on her with such short notice, but he couldn’t leave Loisa alone in this state.

Ronnie answered on the third ring. “Hi, I’m so glad you called. Daddy’s running late, being a diva or something. I have no idea what’s going on. We’ll be late getting to the restaurant.”

“Actually, that’s why I called.” Diego ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t be able to make the dinner after all.”

“What? Why not?”

He paused, debating whether or not to tell her about Loisa. “Something’s come up. Something I need to handle.” His relationship with her was strong, but even he knew it was a bad idea to tell your current girlfriend that your ex was sleeping in your bed. No matter how he tried to spin the story, it would sound bad, and he didn’t want to disrupt Ronnie’s good mood right before her father’s event.

“Can I help?” Ronnie asked.

He heard the concern in her voice. He didn’t want her to worry. “I’m fine. This is just something I need to handle, something that’s come up unexpectedly. But I’ll call you tomorrow and you can tell me all about tonight.”

“Well…if you’re sure.”

“Yes. I—”

He heard the bedroom door open, and when he turned around, Loisa stood looking at him. Her face was dry, but she’d let down her hair but, most disturbing of all, removed her skirt and blouse. She stood half-naked in his apartment, and he was fairly certain if he didn’t move quickly, she’d be completely naked in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh. Okay, well have a good—”

Diego quickly hung up.

“Loisa, what are you doing?”

“I threw up on my clothes and don’t have anything else to wear.”

“I’ll give you something to put on.” He stood still, almost afraid to move because a part of him worried she’d pounce the minute he made any movement.

“One last time, Diego? Before you cut me off completely. Because I know it’s coming.” She appeared to have sobered a little while lying back there alone. Maybe throwing up helped.

“That’s not going to happen.”

She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. It fell to her feet. “Are you sure?”

Diego closed his eyes and bolstered his courage. It was going to be a long night.

“
E
zekiel Taylor
, hurry up or I’m leaving without you!” Ronnie yelled up the stairs.

“You can’t leave without me. I’m the guest of honor!” her father hollered back.

The strange cancellation conversation she’d just had with Diego gnawed at Ronnie. She understood why Miss Loretta couldn’t make the event. She was out of town. But Diego’s explanation didn’t make sense.

Something’s come up.
What did that even mean? They spent so much time together that she’d developed a good sense of his moods, and something was definitely off. He didn’t sound like himself at all, and he’d basically hung up on her, anxious to get off the phone.

She chewed on her bottom lip. She couldn’t worry about that right now. The dinner with her father took precedence, and she’d check on Diego later.

Her father finally descended the stairs in a tan suit and striped tie.

“Glad you could join me,” Ronnie said.

“Do I look okay?” he asked. He stood in front of her and tugged on his suit sleeves.

“You look fine. Now let’s go. By the way, Diego called and cancelled, so it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Well, that’s how it’s been all these years. Did he say why?”

“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s because of the Anniversary.” Ronnie led the way to the kitchen. “He’s probably not in the best of moods—maybe decided he didn’t want to go out after all.” She set the alarm and they both went into the garage.

“Maybe you should check on him after dinner,” her father said, getting into the passenger seat of his car.

“I might do that.” Ronnie climbed in and pressed the opener. The garage door lifted up. They pulled out and were on their way.

Sumpter Technical College had allowed Ezekiel to pick the restaurant where he’d like to eat, and he chose the newly opened Hearty Kitchen in Midtown. He and Ronnie knew the owners of the establishment, an old two-story house with a wraparound porch converted into the perfect location to serve American cuisine, featuring meat, fish, chicken, and vegetarian entrees.

The owner/chef, Ransom Stewart, didn’t have any professional training as a chef, but created delicious dishes that received high marks from critics and diners. He was the media darling on the Atlanta culinary scene—an attorney who’d left a successful career in civil litigation to open a restaurant.

His wife, Sophie, had been bringing her vehicle to Taylor Automotive & Repair for years. She personally greeted Ezekiel and Ronnie the moment they stepped into the restaurant and pulled them each into a boisterous hug.

“Welcome!” Her golden skin glowed under the ambient lighting. Curly hair in a neat bundle at her nape, she smiled her wide smile at them.

Ezekiel eyed her loose-fitting dress. “Wait a minute now. Don’t tell me that husband of yours has already knocked you up.”

“Daddy…” Ronnie covered her face in embarrassment, but Sophie laughed, her skin and eyes glowing.

“Yes, he has, Mr. Taylor. I’m going to be a mommy before too long.”

“Congratulations,” Ronnie said.

“Thank you. Okay, you two, follow me. I’m giving you the star treatment. I placed you in a private room upstairs.”

The private room was decorated with oil paintings depicting farm life, an ode to the farm-to-table philosophy of the restaurant. The room Sophie chose contained a table that accommodated twelve, and guests already sat at the table: three of the school’s top graduates—two young men and one young woman—three teachers, the dean, and two other administrators.

“Order anything you like,” the dean said, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should do that,” Ezekiel said. He sat at the head of the table and picked up the menu.

“We insist.” One of the other administrators leaned in his direction. Ronnie wondered how long she’d been sitting there, since she already had what looked like an apple martini in front of her. “It’s your night.”

Ezekiel chuckled and said, “All right, then.”

“The rib eye steak is very popular, and I also highly recommend any of the vegetable dishes,” Sophie said. “I’ll leave you all in Nancy’s very capable hands. She’ll take good care of you.”

She left the room and the waitress, Nancy, took their orders. They started with appetizer and drinks, and when Nancy came back a second time with those items, they placed orders for the entrees. Ronnie ordered the rib eye with sautéed spinach and scalloped potatoes. Her father ordered the rib eye as well, but paired it with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables.

Time passed quickly, and halfway through the dinner conversation, the female student beside her turned to Ronnie and asked, “Is it hard for you, being a woman in this field?”

Her name was Rachel, and she couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty. She spoke in a quiet undertone, obviously not wishing anyone else at the table to hear the question. Despite being one of the top students at the school, doubt clouded her eyes.

Ronnie considered the question before answering. She wanted to encourage, not discourage the young woman, so she chose her words carefully.

“I haven’t had many problems, but I have experienced pushback and skepticism from ignorant people,” she replied, keeping her voice equally low. “Unfortunately, our industry has a terrible reputation. But for the most part, customers are polite and easy to work with if you know what you’re doing. Speak confidently and treat them fairly and with integrity. As for the male mechanics, I worked with my dad for years before I took over the shop, so the men knew and respected me. Now that I’m their boss, they
really
respect me.”

Rachel smiled. “I just wonder how easy it will be for me to find a job.”

“Opportunities for women are better than they used to be, but you can’t be just as good as the men—you have to be better to get the same amount of respect. Once you gain their respect, they’ll have your back.”

Rachel nodded. “I know what you mean. When I first started classes, the guys gave me a hard time. They didn’t want to work on projects with me, and excluded me from activities outside of the classroom. For months I ate lunch by myself. But once I proved I could do the work, they stopped shutting me out. It was slow at first, but eventually I earned their respect.” She smiled tentatively.

“Work on getting a couple of ASE certifications once you’re eligible,” Ronnie advised.

“I will.”

They rejoined the conversation at the table, where wine flowed freely among the adults. When Ronnie saw everyone was almost finished with their meals, she called over the waitress.

“Go ahead and bring everything up,” she whispered.

The young woman nodded and took off.

An additional surprise awaited her father. A very nice glass plaque, a cake with “Thank you” on top of it, and gifts had been brought to the restaurant earlier. Minutes later, Nancy and two other servers arrived carrying all the items. “Surprise!” they said.

They set the cake in front of her father and piled the gifts on top of the table in front of him.

Everyone at the table clapped and cheered.

“What’s all this?” Ezekiel said, his eyes watery.

The head of the automotive program spoke. “We want you to know how much we appreciate everything you do for the students. Thank you so much for the time you spend sharing your knowledge. You enrich our lives, and the program is so much better for having you a part of it.”

They all clapped again, and Ronnie patted her father’s hand.

Ezekiel sat quietly for a minute, and the group waited while he gathered his composure. When he could finally speak, he lifted his watery gaze and spoke with a little tremor in his voice. “I volunteer because I love it. Love those kids and love the work I did for most of my life. I never expected to be rewarded. Thank you.” More clapping, and then Nancy cut the cake and shared the pieces to all the guests at the table.

A
t the end
of the evening, with the help of Nancy and another server, Ronnie and Ezekiel carried all the gifts and the leftover cake to the car. Her father talked almost nonstop, and she let him continue uninterrupted, which gave her time to think about Diego. Her concern for his mental state reemerged on the drive home.

What was he doing? Was he okay tonight of all nights—when the memories of his deceased daughter were sure to plague his thoughts?

At home, she helped her father take his gifts upstairs and then sat on the foot of the bed and chatted with him. She thought she’d done a good job of engaging, but her father squeezed her hand.

“You’re not even here with me, nugget.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Diego,” she admitted.

“You should check on him. I’m sure he’d appreciate that.” Her father patted her hand.

“You’re right. I’ll go over there and make sure he’s okay.”

“Good idea.”

“I’m proud of you. Get some rest.” She rose from the bed and kissed her father on the forehead. “Don’t wait up. I’ll probably stay over.”

“All right. Drive safely.”