I remember her telling me she’d never even been to detention before she met me and landed in jail less than an hour later. God, she was adorable that day, so frazzled and worried about her parents finding out she’d been detained. What a refreshing change of pace she was from the start, unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
I recall finding out she is a widow and wanting to know everything about what she went through and discovering, one detail at a time, how she survived it with her particular brand of strength, courage and determination. In many ways, she reminds me of my mother. She would love Carmen. Almost as much as I do.
That thought stops me short.
Hell, I love her. Is it too soon? Absolutely. Does that matter? Absolutely not. I love her, and I think, maybe, she may love me, too. Why else would she feel it’s so vital to take a step back, to protect herself from whatever damage I may inflict on her with my ongoing turmoil? If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t do that. She would’ve stuck around, enjoyed the time we have left, and walked away unscathed when I leave.
After the amazing time we’ve spent together, neither of us will walk away from this unscathed. The thought of never seeing her again is unimaginable to me, and the possibility of that fills me with panic. I pick myself up off the floor and, hoping Ginger has taken off by now, go downstairs to get a new key.
I’ve got a lot to do and not much time left to do it.
CARMEN
I hardly sleep, tossing and turning and thinking of Jason and Tony and dreading having to put my life back together once again. I hate being back in this place of grief and loss. No, it’s not the same as when I lost Tony, but the ache is all too familiar and unwelcome. I try to shake it off as I go through my morning routine, which includes a stop at Juanita’s.
She immediately senses something is up. “Oh no. What happened? Where’s your sexy doctor?”
“I . . . Um . . .”
Juanita surprises me when she shuts her window, flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED, comes outside to take my hand and marches me inside. In all the years I’ve been buying coffee from her, I’ve never been inside.
“What’re you doing? This is the busiest time of day for you.”
“They’ll wait. What’s wrong?”
“He’s probably going back to New York.”
“Que lástima.” She hugs me tightly. “Lo siento, mi vida.”
I’m determined not to break down, to soldier through this and get to the other side of it as quickly as possible. Two weeks ago today, I didn’t even know he existed. I refuse to allow him to ruin the life I worked so hard to put together for myself after the last time my heart was shattered. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Angry customers are knocking on the window, but Juanita doesn’t seem to care in the least as she hugs me long and hard. “So many people admire you, amiga. The way you’ve carried on after losing your sweet husband. Everyone wants to see you happy and smiling the way you’ve been with that hot doctor. It was a sight for sore eyes.”
I frantically blink back tears, determined to press on without them. “Thank you, Juanita. I truly appreciate the support.”
“If it doesn’t work out with him, you’re going to find someone else. I know it. A heart like yours is too big to hold all that love you have inside you. You gotta give it away, amiga.”
I didn’t know she felt that way about me. “Thank you. That means so much to me.” I hug her again. “Now get back to work before you have a riot on your hands.”
“Eh.” She waves a hand at the window as she hands me my cortadito. “They’ll wait. They’re addicted.”
I laugh because that’s the God’s honest truth. Like me, they can’t get through the day without a shot of Juanita’s magic. When I try to pay her, she scowls fiercely at me. I send her a grateful smile and emerge from the shop, feeling the glares from everyone in the long line directed at me as I make my way to my car.
“Don’t you be looking at her that way,” Juanita says. “I brought her in here, and if you want your fix, you’d better be nice to mi amiga. Now, who’s next?”