Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,12
my window to see we’re at a restaurant that overlooks the ocean.
“I’ve always wanted to try this place.”
“Really? Well I’m glad I could make that happen for you.”
Victor exits the car, comes around and opens my door for me. He extends his hand and helps me out of the car. He’s been nothing but a gentleman so far, but even I know that it’s too soon to say if he really is one or not. We walk hand in hand into the restaurant and are promptly seated in a secluded area overlooking the ocean. It’s truly a breathtaking view. Being close to the sea has a calming effect on me. It’s one of the reasons I moved so close to the beach.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
His words bring me out of my daze. “Yes, it is. I love the ocean.”
“Me too. I’ve always wanted to live close to the ocean. Maybe a small house on the beach.”
“Around here, a beachfront property would cost millions. It’s a great dream though.”
“Dreams come true all the time.”
“Yeah, I guess they do for some people.”
The waiter comes and takes our drink orders. We sit in silence for a while, each of us looking over our menus. I notice the prices are higher than most restaurants I frequent and I feel a pang of guilt that Victor is spending this kind of money on me when I have no intention of seeing him again. The waiter finally comes back with our drinks, and takes our dinner orders.
“This place is really nice. Jordan and I have been talking about coming here for awhile, we just never got around to it.”
“Jordan?”
“Yeah, Jordan, she’s my best friend.”
“The one you had breakfast with?”
“Yup, that’s her.”
“Sounds like you two are very close.”
I nod. “She’s like the sister I never had.”
“What about your parents, what are they like?”
“Well, my dad is a retired police detective. He’s scary as hell but with me and my brother, he’s just a big softy. We were really lucky to grow up with a dad like that, ya know?”
“He sounds great. I haven’t seen my dad in a couple of years.”
“You’re not close?”
“Not as close as I’d like to be. He lives in Puerto Rico and I live in New York so it’s tough, but we talk every couple of weeks so it’s not that bad.”
“Are you closer with your mom?”
“Yes! As a matter of fact, she’s a little too close.” He lets out a chuckle. “I have to constantly remind her that I’m a grown man. I’m capable of living my life without her butting in all the time.”
“A mama’s boy?” I ask with a smile.
He smiles back at me. “Ugh, no, definitely not. I’m sure she wishes I was but I’m not. She is slowly learning boundaries.”
“I see.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“With your mom, are you close with her?” His question causes a surge of pain to slice through me. I fight against the urge to cry.
“Ah, I was very close to her but she passed away three years ago. Cancer.”
“Ellie, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay. You didn’t know.” Victor looks like he wants to say something, maybe apologize again or try to make me feel better, but the waiter comes with our food and I’m thankful that he does. I can’t handle him being too nice. It does nothing to help my determination. We eat in silence for awhile. He makes small talk, which you would think would be awkward because it normally is in situations like this but with him it’s not. Moments of silence with him are comfortable, like he’s communicating with me even when he says no words. He seems completely content and this makes me somewhat edgy because it shouldn’t this easy. Should it? I suppose since he’s trying to get to know me better, I should do the same, at least for tonight.
“You said your dad is in Puerto Rico, is that where you grew up?”
“No. I was born and raised in New York. But both of my parents were born there so when they got divorced, my dad went back.”
“I’ve always wanted to go there. It looks beautiful.”
“It is. You love the beach so you’d fit right in there.”
“It’s on my list of places to visit.”
“Really? Where else would you like to visit?”
“Any island in the Caribbean, Greece, Spain, Italy, the list goes on.”
“Have you traveled anywhere at all?”
“Yeah, a few islands here and there but no where in the last four or five years. How much longer