The Love of a Latino (7 page)

“She is not some strumpet,
and I did not end things with Sarafina because of Dahlia…”

“Silence!” His father slammed
his fist on the table, rattling its contents. “I will have none of this
nonsense. You will marry Sarafina and we will not discuss this any further.”
His father’s words pierced the stifling air.

“No
Papá,
I will not
marry Sarafina. You will not tell me what to do. I have made my decision.” Rafe
defended himself against his father’s onslaught of demanding words.

The Cavos men stood face to
face now, each challenging the other. Rafe determined to stand firm to his
decision; Alejandro to prove his point. But it was Rafe that had the last word.
“You know,
Papá,
I never realized how much like grandfather you are.”
His hurtful words rattled his father’s defenses causing Alejandro to recoil as
if struck. 

Rafe did not let up,
determined to drive his point home. “I thought
you
of all people would
understand. Before you judge me and denounce me as your son, I want you to think
about what you would have done, had grandfather forced
Mamá
to marry
someone she did not want to. Would you think it was right to be loyal to her
family or to you?”

He moved to his mother,
troubled at the tears brimming in her eyes,
“Mamá,
thank you for your
understanding. I will visit tomorrow and we will talk some more. I love you.”
He finished by touching his lips to her forehead.

Lauralyn stared at her son’s
retreating back. She had never seen him like this before, so determined to get
his way. Could it be possible he was in love and did not even know it? Turning
to her husband she watched as he sank to his seat, evidence of Rafe’s words
imprinted on his face.

This was not good.

****

“How long are you going to
stay angry at me?” Alejandro Cavos asked of his wife.

Lauralyn sat at her night
table, carrying out her nightly rituals. Gently she stroked the brush through
her hair but she did not answer him.

“¿Laura, Amor?
Will you please speak to me?” But Lauralyn Cavos was
more stubborn than any Latin man could be.

Rising from the large bed,
Alejandro came to where his wife sat, willing her to meet his eyes in the
mirror with his silence stance, but not Lauralyn. She had been married to this
man long enough to know just how to manipulate him.

 “Amor,
I am sorry for the way I reacted today. I should not
have shouted at you.” Yes there it was; the apology. But there was more to
come.

Sparing him a glance in the
mirror she went back to brushing her hair.  Stroke, stroke, stroke.

“¡Dios!
Laura, I admit it. I was wrong. I should not have
tried to force my wishes on our son. Now, will you
please
speak to me?”
Now,
that
is what she was looking for.

Glaring at his reflection,
she slammed down the brush before rising. Ignoring him she stalked towards the
bed and discarded of the silk robe. When Alejandro’s muscular arms circled her
from behind, she smiled to herself. Yes, she knew just how to work this man.
There was nothing wrong in using what the good lord gave her to get her husband
to open his eyes.

“I am sorry, please forgive
me.” He whispered into her neck.

Now she would speak. “I am
disappointed in you, Alejandro. You and I have each other. We love each other.
Why would you want any less for our son?”

Spinning her in his embrace,
Alejandro looked down into her face. Lauralyn swore this man hadn’t change in
thirty odd years. He looked just as he did when she had first seen him tending
the fields, naked from the waist up.

Even now after all these
years he could still affect her senses just by being this close. Concentration
became a difficult thing when she faced him like this, his bare chest in her
line of sight but she would not falter. Tonight she was on a mission. When it
was completed
only then
she would succumb to her other desires. It
didn’t matter that those grey eyes were already beginning to turn her feet to
goo.

“I am a stubborn man, Laura,
you know that. In my mind, I am only doing what is right for Rafe.”

“In
your
mind,
Alejandro, but in reality it is not good. If our son has a chance of true love,
I want him to go after it. I prefer to see my son happy and never have one
grandchild than to see him this miserable. As much as I would like a little
baby to play with, I want my son to be happy. All I am asking my husband is for
you to support him.” She spoke, but her hands were busy making its way down his
chest. Beneath her hand she could feel the rhythm of his heart as she began to
work her magic.  She smiled wickedly at her husband when he closed his eyes as
her hand travelled lower.

“Sí,
if this is what you want—then I will support it, my
love.”

That is why she was such a
happy woman. This man loved her and it was never hard to get him to see reason.
So what if she used her feminine charm to get it? At the end of the day they
both would be thoroughly satisfied and happy.

****

Rafe couldn’t go back to the
house anytime soon, his temper threatening to erupt whenever he thought of his
argument with his father the previous night. He had been completely out of
line, trying to force Rafe to marry Sarafina out of duty, and then insulting
him further by calling Dahlia a strumpet. If only he knew how far from the
truth he was.

Lauralyn was already seated
at the table when he arrived at the little restaurant. Pleased to see him she
greeted her son in the usual way—with a kiss.

“How are you, my son?”

“I am fine Mom; do not worry
too much about me. How is
Papá?”
He waved away her concern.

“You know your father, Rafe.
He thinks he’s always right. Give him some time to cool off.”

“I thought that he of all
people would understand, considering what he went through with Grandfather.”

“Your father is a proud man,
Rafe. Even if he realized his actions were uncalled for, you will not get him
to admit it. But enough about your father, tell me about this Dahlia.
¿Cómo es?”
Lauralyn encouraged. She was anxious to learn more about this girl. The name
sounded rather exotic. Did her son have the same desires for a hot blooded mate
as she did? She stifled an embarrassed smiled.

“Ah,
Mamá,
Dahlia is
enchanting. From the very first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew there was
something special about her.”

Lauralyn observed her son’s
face come alive, a total transformation of the man that had greeted her not
less than five minutes ago. So she was right, this woman was special to him. She
listened as Rafe continued.

“Her eyes are the color of
cocoa beans, her skin as smooth as silk.  Her hair is so long and soft and when
she smiles...” The rest of the conversation was lost.

“What is it, Rafe? Why do you
suddenly look so sad?”

“When I took this vacation,
it was only to gather my thoughts. Just to relax. But now when I think about
it, I think I knew deep down inside that I did not to want to marry Sarafina,
that maybe there was someone out there to make feel the way
Papá
feels
about you. I know that I promised you, but I do not love her,
Mamá.
When
I saw Dahlia for the first time on that beach, it was as if nothing in the
world mattered. Every moment I spent with her made me want to be with her
more.” His voice lowered the pain in him more visible than before.

“Do you love her, Rafe?”

“Is it possible to love
someone after only a few days? I do not know if what I feel is love, but I know
she is all I think about. I know that the idea of not having her in my life is
almost unbearable. Is that love, Mom? Is that how you felt about
Papá
at
first?” His questioning eyes roamed his mother’s soft features, hoping for some
answer to all his questions.

Lauralyn listened to Rafe as
he spoke about Dahlia, a hand over her mouth, fighting the tears back. She had
never heard her son speak of any woman in this way. It was there in his eyes,
his voice, and his expression; this love that he felt for this mysterious girl.
She wondered if Dahlia knew how lucky she was to have Rafe love her.

“Oh, my son…you have never
loved a woman before. That is the only reason these feelings are so strange to
you. That is how I still feel about your father. Even when my father thought I
was crazy to love a man with nothing, I knew what I felt was right and I held
on to that. I fought like crazy to keep him, and in the end I did. Son, if you
love this girl– as I think you do– go to her.”

“It is not that simple,
Mamá.”

“What prevents you from going
back to her? Does she not feel the same way about you?” Lauralyn felt a burst
of anger at the thought that this girl did not return Rafe’s love.
Did she
think she was too good for her Rafe?

“Even if she did love me, it
is too late now. Before I even figured out that I felt something for Dahlia, I
decided to break things off with Sarafina. Then, after I kissed her for the
first time I knew I had to do it soon. I was going to fly back here, call off
the engagement and then go back to Trinidad. Then I would be a free man. I
would be able to court her properly.” He paused, his eyes distant, a strained
smile flashed across his face, as if conjuring up the memories. “I guess fate
planned differently. She went away for a couple of days, her aunt had died. I
didn’t know where she was. I thought I would go mad from not seeing her. But
then she came back. She came to the hotel that night and I was so happy to see
her. I knew then that I didn’t want to be without her. Then she kissed me.” A
faint smile touched his lips.

“Things happened, things I
didn’t plan on happening. I wanted to tell her about Sarafina first, but I was
so happy to see her again…” His voice was husky now, his words almost
whispered, and the memories painful. “I was in the shower the next morning when
my phone rang—she answered it. It was Sarafina. She was so hurt; I could see it
in her eyes. When she asked if I was engaged I could not lie. And when she
cried, I felt as if someone was pulling my heart apart. Knowing that I am the
reason she is hurting is too much. She thinks that I lied to her and she wants
nothing to do with me.”

They both sat silently,
Lauralyn observing her son. She was happy that he told her this. Now she
understood his sadness. He was in love with this Dahlia but believed that there
was no hope for them. Her hand covered his in an effort to provide comfort.

“Why don’t you go back to her,
Son? Try to see her again; explain to her. She probably just needs some time.”
She suggested.

 “No, Mom, it doesn’t matter
anymore. It is over between us. Maybe I do love her and that is why I will not
go back. She deserves better.”

“Oh, Rafe that is not true…”

“Please,
Mamá,
I do
not wish to discuss it any further. Dahlia is a part of my past, a part that I
will always treasure, but after the way I have hurt her she will never forgive
me. Please leave it.”

Lauralyn loved her son very
much, but she knew better than to get involved in his personal affairs. This is
something he needed to figure out for himself.

****

Rafe sat at his desk, the
large chair facing the glass wall overlooking the busy street of New York. His
hands fidgeted with the mobile phone. He looked at the number on the display.
Maybe she would speak to him now.  All he had to do was press the call button. It
had been almost six weeks since that dreadful night, but her words still
haunted him. He missed her more than he thought possible. He thought that as
time went by the feelings would fade with it, but they didn’t. Somehow it
seemed only to intensify. He could still feel her breath on his skin as if she
was right there in the room next to him. Her soft cries of pleasure still
echoed his ear when he was alone and her face swam before him when he closed
his eyes.

He’d tried dating, thinking a
quick roll in bed with someone– anyone else– would bury this need he had for
Dahlia but he had no desire for anyone else. At the end of dinner, he had
deposited his date at her door without as much as a kiss. He could not—would
not fight what he felt any longer. He loved Dahlia, the beautiful island
princess who had fainted at his feet on a small tropical island in the middle
of nowhere. He had given his heart to her without even knowing it.

He wondered where she was.
Did she fly back to Boston or did she still live in that little wooden house?
Did she still wear those awful jeans and those ugly glasses? He chuckled at an
image of Dahlia standing in his hotel room that first day. Did she still wear
her hair up or did she leave it down the way he loved to see it?

He had given her time. Maybe
she would listen to what he had to say.  Before he could change his mind, he
pressed the call button. It rang once. He was holding his breath. It rang
again. It rang a third time, and then someone answered.