Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,74
smearing some of the polish on her waist because the crinoline underneath was itchy. She’d burst into his and Carlos’s room, scrubbing at the stain but only spreading the bright pink blob bigger. Her big eyes had pooled with tears. Luis ran outside to cut one of Mami’s white roses from the bushes lining the sunny side of the yard. A couple strategic safety pins later, the rose hid the pink stain from view. Anamaría dubbed him her savior. Until the next time they butted heads and she challenged him to a wrestling match.
Now, eyes locked with Sara’s, Luis followed her until she reached the end of their pew, where his gaze collided with Enrique’s. Busted!
Tilting his head toward Sara, Enrique arched an inquisitive brow.
?Co?o! Too late, Luis remembered his brother meeting her Friday night at Mallory Square.
Ignoring Enrique’s unspoken but clear what’s-up-hermano smirk, Luis faced the front of the church without a word.
Moments later, Father Miguel trailed the end-of-mass procession down the center aisle. The rest of the congregation followed, some more anxious than others. Free donuts, coffee, and punch awaited in the Fellowship Hall.
A retired firefighter who used to work with Carlos stepped into their pew. The two men struck up a conversation and Luis’s papi joined. While Mami chatted with Gina and reminded Luis’s nephews to walk, not run, he moved to the open side door facing the Grotto. Hands deep in the pockets of his dress pants, he leaned a shoulder against the shutter door and waited.
Parishioners of all ages strolled by. Se?or and Se?ora Hernán-dez, longtime friends of his parents, waved hello. A friend from high school, his arms filled with a crying toddler, sent a chin jut greeting Luis’s way. Finally, Sara stepped into view.
She walked through the grass to the Grotto’s entrance, where she smiled a greeting to an older lady whose shoulders stooped with age. A black lace mantilla covered the woman’s curled bob of white hair and she clutched a string of rosary beads in her wrinkled hands. They exchanged words; then Sara grasped the other woman’s right elbow and helped her to one of the concrete benches, gently lowering the elderly woman to her seat.
“Isn’t that your blonde from Friday night?”
Luis ignored Enrique’s question.
Enrique didn’t take the hint or deliberately chose to be a pain in the ass, because he brushed past Luis to stand on the sidewalk outside. He followed Luis’s gaze to the Grotto, where Sara stood, head bowed as if in prayer.
“She seemed pretty friendly. Someone you might bring to familia dinner anytime soon, or is it not like that?”
“Drop it,” Luis grumbled.
He didn’t want to talk about Sara with his brother. Not when the last woman they’d discussed had ripped Luis’s heart out. With Enrique’s silent help.
“Oye, estúpido, I’m trying here,” Enrique groused. He swatted at Luis’s shoulder with a sharp punch. “Give me a damn break!”
“Ooooh, Tío Enrique said the word stuuu-pid!” seven-year-old José singsonged as he and Luis’s younger nephew burst through the opening.
“Don’t let Abuela hear you,” little Ramón cautioned. “She’ll give you the chancleta!”
The two boys howled with laughter at the thought of their abuela swatting their brawny uncle with her slipper.
“Hey, we’re gonna have a donut-eating contest before our mami shows up. Wanna join us?” José asked, hopping from one foot to the other like he was already hyped up on sugar.
“I’m in,” Enrique said. He shot Luis a whatever scowl, then trailed behind their nephews, who were already racing toward the sweets in the adjacent building.
So much for their abuela’s walk-don’t-run reminder.
Blowing off his brother’s sour disposition, Luis remained by the door. He scanned the open area between the church and school, his gaze continually drawn back to Sara. Eventually the rest of his familia scooped him up in their chattering midst, ushering him along to the Fellowship Hall.
By the time they arrived, five-year-old Ramón was complaining of a stomachache and Luis’s sister-in-law, Gina, rushed him to the bathroom.
Luis made the rounds among his relatives—some by blood, others by choice. Asking about grandkids, fist-bumping a teen cousin who had finally worked up the courage to ask a girl out, high-fiving others excited about end-of-the-school-year events, and commiserating with a high school buddy over a lost job. You name it, very little was kept secret when it came to their community. Including the news about his mandated time away from the station and the concerns for how he was handling the mental and emotional stress after the horrific car accident.