“I miss you, too,” I whisper, rereading his message at least ten times before my dad returns, bringing my salad with the house Italian dressing on the side, just the way I like it.
Dad lifts his chin to ask what’s up.
I hand over my phone to show him the text.
He reads it quickly and hands the phone back to me. “Have I mentioned I like this guy?”
“You might’ve said something about that.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to be patient and wait to see what’ll happen. I have a good feeling that having some patience in this situation might serve you well.”
“Maybe.”
He goes off to tend to other customers while I eat my salad and think about Jason’s text and what my dad said. I was doing okay before I met Jason, and I have to believe I’ll be fine if he goes back to New York. But nothing will be as bright or as interesting as it was with him around. It’ll be difficult to go on knowing he’s out there somewhere, too far away to be part of my daily life.
For once, my formidable appetite is letting me down as I pick at the salad and try to work up interest in anything.
My mother slides onto the stool next to me. “What’s going on?”
Since there’s no point in trying to dodge her, I give her the summary. “Jason may be getting his old job back in New York.”
“Oh crap. Well, good for him, but not so good for you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Abuela and Nona are right behind her, and my mother fills them in, which saves me the trouble of having to explain it yet again.
“Ay, mija, that boy is loco for you,” Abuela says. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“It’s not that simple, Abuela. His whole life, his research, everything is in New York. He only came here because he didn’t have any choice. Or he thought he didn’t.”
“That’s nonsense,” Nona says. “His work isn’t his whole life, and he’s smart enough to know that.”
I should’ve known they’d make me feel better. They usually do. And Dad was right about Dante’s marsala. It’s delicious. I box up half of it to take for lunch tomorrow.
“My boss wants to bring his wife in for their anniversary. He asked if I could pull some strings for him.”
“Eh,” Nona says with a wink. “We’ll see what we can do.”
I smile at her, and when she holds out her arms to me, I lean into her embrace. “After brunch, I said our little girl is falling in love with that handsome doctor.”
I start to protest, but she hushes me.
“I said she’s falling in love, and so is he. I only hope they can figure it out so no one gets hurt.” She runs her hand over my hair the way she used to when I was little. “I also said if he hurts you, I might have him killed, but I didn’t mean that. Well, not really . . .”
I’m laughing even as tears roll down my cheeks.
“If it’s meant to be with him, my sweet girl, it will be. But no matter what happens with your Jason, you’re a strong, capable woman, a survivor of much more difficult things than this’ll ever be. You, my love, will be fine, no matter what.”
“What she said.” Abuela uses her thumb to point to Nona in a rare moment of total agreement.
I want to luxuriate in the warm embrace of my grandmothers and parents, but I need to go home and get ready for work and prepare to move on with my life. Nona is right—if it’s meant to be, it will be. “Thank you, Nona. I needed to hear that tonight, and you’re right. It’ll work out the way it’s meant to.”
“And you will be fine,” Abuela says emphatically, “because we say so.”
I hug her and my mother—and my dad when he comes around the bar to get his share. “Love you guys. Don’t know what I’d do without you, which is why I can’t even think about living somewhere else.”
“We love you, too, but you’re not to make decisions based on us.” Dad gives Mami a quelling look that has her thinking better of what she was going to say. “You would be fine without us, and we would be fine without you—if we have to be. We want you to be happy, Carmen. That is all we want for you.”
I appreciate that he’s given me the freedom to do what’s best for me, even if it wouldn’t be what’s best for them. I’ve got a lot to think about. That’s for sure.
CHAPTER 21
JASON
I stop for dinner at an Italian place that has nothing on Giordino’s. I may be ruined forever for Cuban and Italian food after eating there. I may be ruined for everything if I’ve lost Carmen, which is a profoundly depressing thought that sucks the life out of me as I drive back to the hotel where I haven’t slept in days.
A lot of my stuff is at Carmen’s, which means I’ll have to see her at some point. But out of respect for her wishes, I buy a toothbrush, toothpaste, razor and comb in the hotel gift shop, along with a bottle of water. I pay for the items, take the bag from the clerk and turn to head toward the elevator when I see her.
Ginger.
Sitting in my hotel lobby waiting for me, looking as always as if she just stepped off a runway in Milan. She once told me that her color palette was autumn, which is why she wears tans, oranges and browns exclusively. I should’ve taken one thing from that information—that she’s shallow and concerned with all the wrong things. Hindsight is indeed twenty-twenty. Today she’s wearing orange, but all I see is red.
For a second, I’m so surprised to see her that I’m speechless. She looks at me with those big green eyes that used to move me, and it’s all I can do not to lose my shit. “What do you want?”
“Can we talk? Please?”
“Absolutely not.” I wonder how she found me, but that’s secondary to getting rid of her. “Go home. There’s nothing for you here.”
“Jason, I want to apologize.”
“Good, thanks. All set. Go away.” I head for the elevators, hoping she got the message.
She didn’t. She grabs my arm to stop me, and since I’m not up for a nasty public scene, I glare at her until she releases me.
“I have less than nothing to say to you.”
“I have things I need to tell you. Give me five minutes, please?”
“I’m not giving you thirty seconds. Go back under the rock you crawled out from under and leave me alone. Your scheme has been a roaring success. I hear Howard quit the board. Congratulations on ruining the lives of two people. You should be very pleased with yourself.”
To my great horror, she begins to cry. “I’m so, so sorry. I never intended—”
“What didn’t you intend? For the whole sordid mess to get plastered all over the New York media, or for me to lose my job, or for your kids to find out what a shameless bitch their mother is?”
“Any of it. I didn’t intend for it to go as far as it did.”
I stare at her, incredulous. “What did you think would happen when your husband, who runs the hospital where I work, walked in on us when my dick was down your throat?”
A guy from the hotel approaches us, his expression stormy. “That’s enough, folks. Take it upstairs or outside unless you want me to call the cops.”