Without Borders (28 page)

Melinda scribbled on one of the many papers in front of her, the scratching of her pen and the hum of the fans the only sound in the room. The tension stretched tighter with each passing second. Finally, she looked up. “When I write up your letter of recommendation, I will tell them how you matured during this trip.” She bent her head and wrote something else.

“I’m sorry?” Annie blinked and looked at Felipe. He shrugged.

“Annie,” his mother smiled, kind crinkles forming at the corners of her eyes, “this is hard work. There is no right or wrong answer. It’s nothing but gray around here. You understand that, and it shows great maturity. And somehow, in a month, you taught my son the lesson I’ve been trying to drill through his thick skull for years.” She shook her head and tossed her pen at Felipe.

He let out an audible breath, then smiled and threw the pen back at his mother.

“You are still in trouble,
hijo
.”

Felipe’s body went cold. “I should not have let anyone go near the home in that village. I know we agreed—”

“Yes, we did.” His mother picked up the crumpled paper and looked over their notes again.

He waited, silently willing Annie to leave while he suffered whatever lecture was headed his way. But she didn’t move.

“I trust you won’t do that again.” Melinda squinted at the page.

“I will not.”

“Your handwriting is horrible. Especially in English.” She turned the paper sideways. “Go clean up. We will do our debriefing at Alma’s, yes?”

Relief flowed through him, and every muscle relaxed, leaving him exhausted. “
Sí.
” He stood and tugged Annie up next to him. “You probably want a shower?”

“Oh, God, yes.” She grinned, and he saw the relief in her eyes.

“You’ll take separate showers.” Melinda still didn’t look up from the page. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Felipe ignored her, and at the top of the stairs, Annie gave him one of her nose-scrunching smiles. “It’s going to take her so long to read your handwriting, she probably wouldn’t know…”

“Tomorrow,” he whispered into her hair.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He laughed and nudged her into the bathroom. “Do not use all the hot water.”

Annie closed her eyes. The salt and roar of the Pacific Ocean filled her lungs. From the front, the resort was a simple, three-story, white rectangle with a dash of palm trees lining the lawn. But beyond the building, there was nothing but blue-green waves.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Annie asked Juan.

“No, no.” Juan ran a hand along his now clean-shaven upper lip. Without the handlebar mustache, he looked ten years younger. “There will be too much lovesickness. It will turn my stomach, and then Felipe will have to take care of me. And you will be angry because he is taking care of me instead of you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Annie laughed. “Get out of here.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for everything.”

She forced her eyes to the clear, perfect sky, hoping it would stave off her tears. No dice.

“You are good people, Annie.” He let go and ducked into his tiny red car.

“Email me?” Phillip handed her a slip of paper with his address printed in block letters.

“You have an AOL address?”

“It was the only one that didn’t have Barnyard Bro taken. I guess all the other guys got to them first.” He shook out his blond hair. It had grown too long over the last month, and it flopped over his eyes.

“I’ll email you. And you’re not that far away, maybe we can meet in the middle somewhere and do lunch. Bacon for you. Ice cream for me.”

She expected a laugh, but he was silent. His gaze strayed over her head, and Annie didn’t need to turn around to know who’d captured his attention.

“Go say goodbye to her. You guys are—”

Phillip pushed past Annie, and in three resolute steps he’d wrapped his arms around Marisol’s waist. He dipped her into a low, deep kiss that made Annie’s eyes bug out of her head.

“Gross,” Felipe said.

“Let’s go. Give them some time.” She slipped the email address into her pocket and tugged him toward the lobby. At the doorway, she waved to Juan one last time. “And we made it through without Juan getting us back for the underwear. I think that means we won, right?”

“You won. I am sure he is leaving right now to do something terrible to my house.” Felipe held open the door, and she slipped in under his arm.

The resort wasn’t as open and ornate as some of the lobbies she’d seen on spring break trips to Cancun or even on jaunts to New York with her father. But there was air conditioning. Sweet, precious, thank-you-baby-Jesus air conditioning. And that made this seem like the most luxurious place she’d ever stayed.

“Feels so good.” Marisol’s voice echoed off the tile. She lifted her arms and spun like a ballerina—once, twice, three times—until she reached the front desk. After a short conversation that involved a lot of suggestive leaning on the desktop, she pirouetted back to them. “He gets off at five. Here are the keys.”

Felipe took a set from her and shook his head.

“
¿Qué?
” Marisol asked.

“Nothing.” Annie didn’t give him time to explain, afraid it might set off Marisol’s insecurities again. “Let’s go.”

They circled to the back of the resort, and Marisol peeled off to her room. “I will be at the pool.”

Annie chewed the inside of her left cheek. They hadn’t discussed where she would sleep, but she knew where she wanted to wind up at the end of the night. And it wasn’t with Marisol and the guy from the lobby.

“Stay with me.” Felipe’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her to the other end of the breezeway. “
Por favor
.”

She couldn’t have protested if she wanted to. Not with his hands roaming along her hips like that. “Since you asked nicely.” She raised up and pressed her lips to his. The way he smiled when she pulled away lit her insides on fire. She pulled out her cellphone, trying to regain her composure. “But I really need to call my dad.”

Felipe unlocked the door and tucked the keys into her free hand. His index finger lingered in her palm. “I will be in the room.”

Annie grinned so hard her face hurt. “I’ll be quick.” She pressed the numbers haphazardly, her brain still thinking about the shower she’d been promised. The one that came with hot water and an even hotter, naked doctor.

“Yellow?”

She fumbled and nearly dropped the phone. “Hi, Dad.”

“Annie! How are you?” He coughed, and her jaw clenched.

Dozens of terrifying thoughts shot through her at once, careening into one another and leaving her heart pounding. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m fine, kiddo. I’m not the one who’s been running through the jungle for the last month. How are
you
feeling?”

“Pretty good actually.” She paced along the tile.

“I knew it. And I take it they all saw how wonderful you are?”

“Something like that.” She fiddled with handle of her suitcase. “Are you really okay?”

“Really,” he said, and her heart took it down a notch. “I checked your flight schedule online this morning. Times are the same.”

“You did?” Her father was Internet-disabled.

“I had Susan check.”

“Susan?”

“My home health nurse. She’s a looker, Ann.”

“You have a home health nurse now?” She stopped moving and stared out at the courtyard, not seeing anything.

“It’s fine. Nothing to worry about. Thought it would be good to have someone around while you were gone.” He coughed again. “Is that Mike character picking you up? He’s been calling here.”

“Mike?” Annie’s toes went numb.

“Yeah, called twice. Asked what time your flight was getting in. I figured—”

“No, he’s not picking me up.” She laughed at the idea of sitting in a confined space with that level of douche-baggery. “If he calls again, tell him.”

“Okay?”

She ignored the question. “When I get home, let’s have dinner at your house.”

“You got it. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you. See you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.
The word rang out as she hung up. Tomorrow she’d be home. Tomorrow she’d return to life in St. Louis with her friends and her classes and her medical school applications.
Tomorrow I’ll be gone.

“Annie?” Felipe poked his head into the hallway.

“Yep.” She moved to the doorway, but he stood still, blocking her entrance.

An unruly patch of hair jutted across his forehead, and she brushed it back. It was so easy and familiar to touch his face. To stand close enough to count the crinkles at the corners of his dark eyes. Felipe ran a finger down her shoulder, pausing at the crook of her elbow, then lingering at her wrist.

Her stomach grumbled.

“You are hungry?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Come. The restaurant here is very good. But I am not sure they will serve your favorite food. We will ask.”

“My favorite food?”

“Armadillo.” His grin lightened the weight on her chest, and she shoved her suitcase into the room and followed him down the stairs.

• • •

They made trip after trip to the beach-side buffet—sampling shrimp, a plate of fruit, half a roast chicken. Annie smiled every time a bite passed her lips, and Felipe couldn’t stop watching her.

“I never thought I’d miss mashed potatoes so much.” She stole a spoonful from his plate. A dot of potato strayed to the corner of her lips. He wiped it away with his thumb, letting his hand linger against her skin. She laughed. “You know, I would be embarrassed, but I’m so sick of eating rice and beans, I don’t even care.”

After his third glass of Merlot and Annie’s second helping of chocolate cream pie, he stood and offered her a hand. They walked the length of the beach, nothing but perfect sand for one long stretch after another, until it turned to hulking boulders and an inky cliff face jutting into the horizon. Felipe stayed silent as they walked, memorizing the whip of salt on his skin and the constant in and out of the waves. He committed every inch of Annie’s soft curves and her ridiculous laugh to his memory. Each time a thought of tomorrow crept in, he swatted it back by pulling her into a long kiss. When his mind was foggy with want, the sting faded.

“My dad and I are having dinner tomorrow when I get home.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to ask him about the fundraiser.”

“You do not have to do that.”

They reached the boulders, and Felipe began to turn back, tugging Annie with him. But she dropped his hand and climbed, scaling the rocks in bare feet. She towered over him.

“I can see up your skirt from here,” he said.

“You cannot.” She crossed her legs anyway. Curls swatted her cheeks, and the six or seven feet between them seemed unbearably vast.

He found his way up the slippery rock and stood behind her, his hands draped on her hips. He kissed her collarbone. And her neck. And her ear. She turned, lifting her chin so their lips met.

“It’s going to work. My dad will love the idea. And you’ll have a nice chunk of money to start the program.”

Since they’d started brainstorming, she’d thrown this idea at him again and again. A fundraiser put on by her sorority and her father’s old medical practice. Something about “philanthropy points” and wealthy, old doctors. Felipe couldn’t follow it all, and he didn’t try.

“Annie, people leave here, and they forget.” He felt her sharp intake of breath. “I am not saying
you
will forget. But if so many people who
have
been here forget after a few months, why would people who have never known us give their money?”

“I can’t explain it. I just know. Trust me.”

Felipe bent to kiss her again. He’d do nearly anything to keep from talking about what it all meant—that she’d be gone tomorrow.

She stepped back. “What’s wrong? The idea is brilliant. Your mother loves it. Seems like
Ahora
is in your hands if you want it.”

“No. She will not budge on the Master’s degree.”

“Okay, but still.” Annie squeezed his hand. “You can do that. If you made it through medical school, what’s another year or two?”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. “I…” He sighed as the realization hit. “I am scared.”

“Of what?”

“That I will forget. That I will get my Master’s degree, and it will be too easy to forget the brigades and the villages when I am in a classroom. And when I am done, I will want a job at a private hospital where everything is easy. Or at least easier.” He’d never given voice to his fears before. He wasn’t even sure he’d known what they were before now. Before Annie.

“Even if you never went on another brigade for the rest of your life—which I’m sure you will—you can’t forget something like this.”

He pulled her close. She was right, he wouldn’t forget. Not the brigades. Not Annie. Not any of it.

She pressed harder against him. “Do you want to go back the room? Would that cheer you up?”

“
Sí
.” Felipe’s tongue explored hers, and a fire crackled inside him. He pulled back, groaning. “But I promised Marisol we would go dancing.”

“Dancing? Let’s go.” She grinned up at him one last time before she zipped down the rock.

Felipe hopped down and caught up with her in two lengthy strides. Her hair whipped around her face, swatting her forehead and eyes. He pulled her in for another kiss, and his hands roamed up her dress, catching on the thin fabric of her underwear.

He dipped down until her lips were half an inch from his. “After dancing, I am taking you back to the room.” He dropped her dress. “And we are not coming out until tomorrow.”

In the early morning, the DJ cut off the music, and Annie strolled up the pathway to their room. Her arms and legs were Jell-O, and her ears rang from the blast of the speakers. Sweat beaded her hairline and chest, and she was so damn thirsty. But she beamed. With one arm looped through Marisol’s and the other intertwined with Felipe’s, her heart overflowed.

They stopped in the breezeway. “What time do you leave?” Marisol asked.

“Six,” Annie said. Her stomach sank.
Five hours
.