The Love of a Latino (9 page)

She was now in her second
trimester at nineteen weeks, still getting used to the idea of being pregnant.
Her belly was visible now that she was lying down, but when she stood up it was
barely noticeable, something she was happy about. She would be able to keep the
nosy neighbors from talking just for a little while longer.

Natasha had been wonderful,
accompanying her to her prenatal visits, giving her the support she desperately
needed. She would forever be thankful that her sister was also her best friend.

Raphael was never far from
her thoughts. When she lay on her bed at night, memories of him would emerge as
if he was branded into her brain. How could it be that one night could be the
happiest of her life but also the saddest? He was probably married to Sarafina
now, Dahlia a distant memory to him, a fling—a one night stand.

Had it not been for this baby
she was carrying, she would probably have had a nervous breakdown. Sometimes,
if she closed her eyes and wished hard enough she was sure she could hear him
call her name. She could hear him say those words she longed for;
I love you
Dahlia
. But when she opened her eyes, reality would be there waiting for
her, reminding her with a cold hand that there was no happily ever after. Love
hurt and if you weren’t strong enough it could destroy you.

She wondered what he would do
if he knew that they had created a baby that night. Would he want to be part of
its life? Would their baby look like him if it was a boy, that same thick brow,
that hard mouth, those deep grey eyes?

A future with Raphael was
completely out of the question, but that didn’t stop her deceitful heart from
loving him. It didn’t matter how she felt. He belonged to someone else. If he
had cared even a littler, he would have come back. But he hadn’t.

A growl from the dog lying at
her side had her glimpsing down at him. He was chewing on her flip flop again.
Dahlia gave him a stern look, muttering, “Marley what am I going to do with
you?”

At the mention of its name,
the dog angled its head and released the flip flop. Its tongue slipped out the
side of its mouth. Unable to stay mad at the dog with its silly looking face
Dahlia laughed. Happy at being the center of attention the massive dog rose to
its full height and proceeded to lick its way into her heart. She giggled,
trying to fend away the wet tongue in her face, when he suddenly went still,
his ears cocked.

“What is it, Boy?”

A low growl began somewhere
in the depths of its throat, then it rolled out in full-fledged barks, the
heavy sound rumbling in Dahlia’s ear. The dog turned and took off in a run
around the front of the house alerting her that someone was at the gate. She
heard the chain rattling on the gate as she struggled to climb out of the
hammock. No doubt the silly dog was getting carried away at a stray. She
muttered something about boxing.

Slipping the wet flip flop on
her feet she moaned as the dog’s saliva sank in between her toes. “Ugh, I am
going to kill that dog.”  Hurrying around the front she saw him, barking
ferociously at something or
someone
on the other side, threatening to
break the gate as his heavy body slammed against it. As she got closer, she
noticed the yellow taxi parked, a woman stood partially out of the car. When
she spotted Dahlia she stepped out fully, leaving the door open.

“Hello, good afternoon. I am
not sure if you could help me. I’m looking for someone.” The woman started,
eyeing the frightful dog cautiously.

“Marley, go to the back.”
Dahlia commanded. The dog stopped its ranting and looked at her as if asking
for another chance. She pointed and said again, “To the back.” This time a
little more forcefully. Giving into his mistress’ demand, the large dog dropped
its ears and strolled in the direction he was ordered.

Dahlia turned back to the
woman. She was certainly not from around here. The fact that she was white was
the first telltale sign. The second was her manner of dress. It was the middle
of the day but she was dressed in a long sleeved, turtle neck sweater, jeans
and ridiculously high stilettos.

“Oh, thank you. That sure is
a big dog.” She came closer to the gate.

“You said you were looking
for someone.” Dahlia reminded her.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I am
looking for a young lady, her name is Dahlia Moore. This is the address I got
from the
Papaya Hut,
but I am not sure if she still lives here.” The
woman was babbling, her accent making it difficult for Dahlia to understand her
clearly.
Who was this woman that was seeking her out?
Dahlia was sure
she didn’t know her.

“Why are you looking for
Dahlia?” Dahlia asked.

“So you know her. Good!  But
I’m sorry I cannot discuss that with anyone. I must speak to Dahlia herself.”
The woman explained. She sounded almost urgent.

What was this woman doing
here, acting as if someone had just died? “Well maybe if you give me your name
and a contact number, I could have her call you.” Dahlia suggested, hoping the
woman would give some hint as to who she was.

The woman’s face became
serious, the nervous look disappeared. Eyeballing Dahlia the woman hissed,
“Maybe you don’t understand me, young lady. Either you know where Dahlia is or
you don’t. I will speak to her and
only
her. I did not fly all the way
from New York to be toyed with.” It was now that Dahlia saw the maturity in her
face. She was older than she looked, but she was beautiful and just for a
moment Dahlia thought she looked familiar.

Realizing that this woman’s
business was indeed urgent Dahlia said flatly, “I am Dahlia. Who are you? What
do you want with me?”

The woman paused, the tension
from her face disappeared, a friendly smile replacing it. “Thank God, I have
found you. You and I have a lot to talk about. I must say you are as beautiful
as he said.”

Warning bells sounded in
Dahlia’s head at the woman’s words. But before she could prepare herself the
chestnut colored hair woman said. “It is good to finally meet you Dahlia Moore.
My name is Lauralyn Lopéz Cavos. Raphael Cavos is my son. Shall you invite me
in?”

Dahlia felt the blood drain
from her face. Her body slumped against the cold iron of the gate, long fingers
pulling her deeper into the black vortex. The last thing she remembered was
Lauralyn Cavos calling her name.

****

She was more beautiful than
he professed, Lauralyn thought, looking at the girl on the bed.  She swallowed
a lump that formed in her throat, swiping at a stray tear that rolled down her
cheek. Her gazed travelled to the little bump carefully concealed under the cotton
dress. Dahlia was pregnant and if Lauralyn had her dates correct, she would be
a grandmother in about four and a half months. Her heart swelled at the
possibility.

The bedroom door opened and
Dahlia’s sister came in holding a glass of water in one hand and a glass of
soda in the other. Accepting the soda Lauralyn offered a whispered thank you
and watched as Natasha placed the glass of water on the bedside table, going to
her sister to brush a strand of hair from her forehead.  She knew she would
need to be very cautious as to how she handled this situation.

“Is the baby alright?” The
older woman asked, breaking the mind numbing silence in the room.

Natasha straightened up and
glared at her, looking like a snake ready to strike. “Yes, the baby’s fine.”
She snapped.

“I’m sorry for showing up
like this, but I had no other way of contacting her. I didn’t mean to upset
her.” Lauralyn apologized trying to convince the woman she wasn’t a threat to
her or her sister.

When Dahlia had swooned and
fainted on the other side of the gate, Lauralyn had a sheer moment of panic.
Any attempt to assist her resulted in the large dog’s vicious barks and
drooling sneer.  Fearful that she would not be able to help Dahlia, Lauralyn’s
heart soared when Natasha came rushing out of the house. Thank God the dog had
made such a commotion.

With the animal carefully
locked away, they had enlisted the help of the taxi driver to get Dahlia to her
bed. Now she rested comfortably in what seemed like her childhood room. She
looked like a child. Still unconscious from her faint she lay amidst a pile of
stuffed toys. Her hair was beautiful just as Rafe had said. She smiled at the
memory of her son’s description.

“Did he send you?” It was a
simple question. Natasha made clear her opposition to the other woman being
here in those few words.

“No, he doesn’t know I’m
here.” Lauralyn took a sip from her soda savoring the feel of the cold liquid
as it slid down her parched throat.

“Then why did you come?”

“I don’t have all the details
about what went on between your sister and my son, but I think there might have
been a misunderstanding between the two.”

Natasha leaned her back
against the window frame, her arms folded across her chest. “I don’t understand
how there could have been any misunderstanding. Your son slept with my sister
even though he was engaged.” She criticized.

“I know what it seems like,
but I assure you there is a lot more to this than meets the eyes.”

“Is there? Why don’t you
enlighten me then?” Natasha snapped.

“I would love to, but I
really think that is something I should discuss with your sister.”

“She has been hurt enough. I
don’t care who you are, but I won’t let anyone hurt her again and don’t think
for one second I am going to stand by and let you or that
bastard
son of
yours take her baby from her.” Natasha pushed away from the window, challenging
Lauralyn.

She admired the younger
woman’s devotion to her sister. Placing the half empty glass next to the chair,
she stood to meet Natasha half way across the small room. “Mrs. Mason, neither
you nor your sister have anything to fear from me or my son. I swear by
everything I hold true to, I did not come here to cause any trouble. Maybe this
will give you some consolation.” She paused, staring the younger woman full in
the eye. “Rafe called off the wedding.”

That got her attention.
Natasha blinked, opened her mouth to say something but a soft moan from the bed
drew both their attention to Dahlia. She was waking up.

****

Dahlia had the most awful
dream. She had been standing at the gate and there was a beautiful woman who
said she was Raphael’s mother. She opened her eyes and grimaced against the
light slicing through the curtain. The woman in her dream looked just like the
one standing behind Natasha.

She closed her eye again,
putting a hand to her head. Why did she feel as if she had just been run over
by a bus? Her mouth felt as if she had been chewing on cloth. Her eyes flew
open resting on the stranger in the room. It wasn’t a dream, she was really
there.

“Dahlia, are you alright?”
Natasha was kneeling next to her bed, her face lined with concerned. Licking
her dry lips she nodded.

“Here drink this.” Her sister
shoved a glass into her hand. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she gulped
down the water, her eyes never leaving the woman. The intruder stepped forward
and Dahlia’s hand protectively covered her stomach trying to conceal her
condition.

“Don’t bother; I already know
you’re pregnant.” Her cool, controlled demeanor made Dahlia’s hair stand on
edge. Her voice softened “I’m sorry I startled you earlier, but I need to speak
to you.”

She was standing at the foot
of her the bed her eyes fixed on Dahlia. Her presence made the room seem so
much smaller. This was Raphael’s mother. Lauralyn, that’s what she had said her
name was, hadn’t she?  Her eyed darted to her sister, then back to the woman. “What...what
do you want?”

“I need to speak to you about
my son.”

“You are not taking
my
baby!”
Dahlia shrieked.

“That’s not why I am here. I
didn’t even know you were pregnant until you fainted.”

“Then why are you here?”

She looked at Natasha who was
now sitting on the edge of the bed. Her expression said she wasn’t sure if she
should speak with the other woman in the room.

“I have no secrets from my
sister. Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of her.”

“Very well then,” She
returned to where she was sitting, crossing a long leg over the other she
directed her attention to Dahlia.

“When I met Rafe’s father, I
was in Spain with my parents. My father had business and it was customary that
when my father travelled, the entire family did. I was only seventeen, young,
and free without a worry in the world. The day I saw him—he was tending to the
field, so strong and handsome.” Her eyes lit up at the memory. “I fell in love
with him that very day. We started seeing each other…a few stolen hours every
day, but it was enough for us. Then my father found out. He threatened
Alejandro with rape, told me that if I didn’t stop seeing him, he would have
him arrested. But we loved each other so much.  Neither of us was going to let
my father keep us apart, so Alejandro and I eloped. My father threatened to cut
me off. For years he didn’t speak to either of us, but when Rafe was born, he
finally accepted our marriage.”