A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea and Tomorrow - Laura Taylor Namey Page 0,90

old ones and the people I met and loved.

Recipe for Goodbye

From the Kitchen of Lila Reyes

Ingredients: One Cuban girl. One English boy. One English city.

Preparation: Give Polly her kitchen back and share a genuine smile, from one legitimate baker to another. Ride through the countryside on a vintage Triumph Bonneville. Walk through Winchester, all through town and on the paths you ran. Drink vanilla black tea at Maxwell’s. Eat fish and chips and curry sauce at your friend’s pub. Sleep in fits and bits curled up together on St. Giles Hill.

*Leave out future talk. Any form of the word tomorrow.

Cooking temp: 200 degrees Celsius. You know the conversion by heart.

At once, Orion gets up and paces to the fountain. Is this how it is now? Do we need to practice how to be apart?

“Flora,” he says. “When I came in to brush my teeth she was covering dough to rise.”

I rise too, keeping my distance. “I’ll stay close. Talk to her as much as I can.”

“She loves you.” His hand balls, then lifts to cover a face still turned away. But on his next breath, he spins, jaw fitted as tightly as the stone walls. “You came here and you fed everyone. Not just me and not just sandwiches and pastries. You fed the guests at the inn, and people in town will ask where you are tomorrow. You fed Jules’s music. You fed my friends and you fed my sister with skills and love and now you’re…” He ducks his head.

I’m shaking at this, realizing the meaning. Today he fights against worlds and universes, not accepting the boarding pass in my purse. Not accepting what he’s powerless to change. Tomorrow, maybe he will. But not now.

“Orion.”

He looks up, anguished.

“You all fed me back.”

“That’s the fucking hell of it isn’t it? After all that, we’re still starving.” He scrubs his face roughly. “I’m sorry, Lila. It’s not your fault. Your life was yours before you landed here.”

Teeth clenched, I nod. “You’re a bloody fool if you think I’m going to forget you, or lose you. Do you really think I’d let that happen?”

“Of course not… But don’t promise any more now. You’re going home to a great future.”

What if my future falls underneath a different flag? Right now, I can’t even allow this thought. Miami has to be my rightful castle today, not an English ruin.

He approaches. “Well then. Spencer will be calling for you. It might as well be now as it is in five minutes.” Orion looks me over, head to toe. “Be safe. Ring when you land, no matter the time.” He holds me close. Kisses each of my cheeks then nods once, bidding me home.

I touch my fingers to my lips, then turn toward the fountain. I won’t watch him walk away. It’s fitting that the water under the sainted statue rests still. I try to turn myself off too. This one time, I want math, need it like Pilar does. I make equations: The square root of Family Style plus flan divided by Miami rain minus South Beach sand. I make more, repeating them until the cool gray of graphite covers all my heart and Spencer’s voice calls from next door.

It’s time to turn my feet around. Time to go home. But just as I reach the gate, I jolt at Orion blocking my way, jerking me toward him.

“I lied,” is all he says before he kisses me. Full and long and richly dark. One last time, we feed each other before he pulls away. “Goodbye, Lila.”

I still can’t say it back.

32

There’s too much heat in this city. My British summer body has to adjust like reptiles and amphibians do from shady coolness to the blistering scorch of rocks. I wake too early and even now, just ahead of dawn, air steams with the promise of a makeup drip-off day when clothes stick to skin and sweat gathers in inconvenient places. A Miami August always keeps its promises.

Yesterday my city put me into my family’s arms. I cried and clung to Pilar like a little child. I told her she looked beautiful but needed a haircut. She told me I looked like a plane cabin disaster and absolutely perfect. I texted Orion and then slept off the emptiness of our messaged words and emojis. Then I slept some more, waking only to eat.

I will go to La Paloma today. See what’s the same and what’s changed. But now I walk West Dade with a big