I finish the sign to the right side of the canvas—Lummus Park, Miami Beach. Then I stand back and take in the whole image.
She sits looking out at the ocean, her white linen shirt billowing around her. The storm overhead is ready to come down. The beach has emptied, no one there but her. Her and a nearby food cart, locked up, its owner nowhere in sight. She is ready for the rain, ready to bare her wounds, ready to forget. The water will cleanse her. She watches the waves as they peak and collapse, with quiet resignation. She knows she will never see them again.
I look outside. As the real clouds rumble closer, I think about everything that’s happening—about Mami’s surgery tomorrow, her story about my grandparents, Andrew, not going to college—even Robi. Why? Why is all this happening? Why can’t life just be simple? Nothing has gone as planned, nothing. I don’t know if I can take all this. But I have to. I don’t have a choice.
I wipe tears away from my face. I think I understand this girl now. I think I’m ready to wrap this up. The clock on the art room wall says it’s time to go home. Leaning forward, I finish it off in the left-hand corner. Isa.
Wiping my brushes and trashing the wax paper with the last of my blends, I hurry to beat the real rain waiting outside. I grab my bag, the painting by the edge, and leave the room. Andrew is gone. I told him I wanted to finish the painting. Susy’s gone. We haven’t talked for over a week. Jonathan’s gone too. Only the cleaning lady is here, sweeping outside the main house. Behind her the door is still open. I say a quick hello to her, then peer inside.
The computers and lights are off. So quiet. Tiptoeing inside, I breathe in the silence of the room. To my left is the bulletin board with its mess of memos. Under the leaves of papers, I search for the bright blue one I saw a couple of weeks ago.
There it is—the flyer for the Cuba Expo art contest. I rip it off the board and tuck it into my bag.
The next day, Baptist Hospital reflects the orangey-peach light of the late afternoon sun. For once the rain has let up, and I am reminded of why Miami has a reputation for beauty. I have time to kill since Mom is in recovery. I can’t see her for a while, so I’m under this gazebo by the lake. These ducks could care less that I’m whistling for their attention.
In the parking lot there’s a guy walking around placing ads under windshield wipers. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one of them. You find the papers on your windshield but never see who puts them there—like magical elves that fix shoes at night. The dude approaches my father’s Infiniti, and I see him leave his flyer under the wipers.
When he’s safely out of sight, I go to the car and pull the ad out. Great, it’s for a new Girelli’s Gym, opening up in Kendall. Now two locations! Join today! I’d heard about this gym even before Andrew mentioned it. Stefan said it’s a meat market and plans to enroll shortly. But it’s also right by UM. Probably why Andrew goes there.
Sigh. Let’s see what Dad’s doing. Inside the hospital I weave my way around staff members, wheelchairs, and a multitude of visitors, who all seem to be strolling at half a mile an hour. A sense of mild claustrophobia chokes me. I reach the waiting room where I left Dad and Stefan, but now my father’s by himself.
“Hey, Dad.”
He looks up. “¿Qué tal, hija? ¿Qué hiciste?”
“Nothing. Just went down to the lake, walked around the parking lot, came back. It’s a beautiful day.”
He nods. His knee bounces up and down at high speed. My father’s never this quiet.
“Dad? Mami’s going to be okay.” Still, I understand how he feels. This surgery just better have stopped the cancer from spreading.
His knee stops bouncing. “I know, hija. I know.”
“¿Y Stefan?”
“He went to the cafeteria. ¿Por qué no te vas un ratico, anda, y te llamo cuando salga Mami?”
I guess he’s right. I should go somewhere. It’ll be a while before I get to see her if she’s in recovery and doesn’t have a room yet. Plus it’s almost dinnertime. But I didn’t bring the truck. “I came with you, Dad.”
Staring ahead, my father leans to one side, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his keys. “Toma.” He hands them to me.
“You want me to bring you something to eat?”
“No, Stefan’s got it. Here.” He gives me his cell phone. “Just in case. I’ll tell Stefan to call you when she’s in a room.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“Isa, we’re not going to see her for at least an hour. Go somewhere. Just be careful. Hay tráfico a esta hora.”
“I’ll go opposite traffic. By the time I come back, it should be mostly gone. Bye, Daddy.” I kiss his cheek. And I’m off again, through the halls, at the elevator, past the gift shop, and out the door. Ah, fresh air. What is it about hospitals?
My watch says 5:30. Probably could’ve gone to work today if I’d known the surgery would take this long, but Jonathan said to take the day off to be with Mom. I guess he isn’t as bad as he sometimes seems.
I love the smell of my dad’s G35, nice and leathery. It’s cool that he’s letting me drive it. Wait till Stefan finds out. Dad never lets Stefan drive his car. Let’s see…where do I go? Dadeland Mall? Nah, let Stefan shop for me. Bookstore in the other direction. Nope, bumper to bumper. I know. I pull out the flyer from my pocket and find the address for the gym’s Coral Gables location.
Driving through Coral Gables is like driving through a postcard, with its tree-lined streets, vibrant hues, and old-world architecture. I have to come out here one day and just paint, really capture the colors of this city that, according to Mami, looks a lot like old Havana. Maybe I’ll do that for her next birthday.
I wonder if Andrew’s at the gym already. I can’t wait to surprise him. I’d like to think it would brighten his day. I know I would’ve loved it if he’d shown up at the hospital’s gazebo.
I find the gym, but a parking spot is a different story. The place is packed. Luckily I find a metered space in front of a bridal store. Pulling up, I yank the brake and slide my shades over my eyes.
I get out, feeling the drastic difference between the A/C inside and the oven-hot temperature rising from the pavement. That’s one thing I was really looking forward to about Michigan—a little cold weather after all this heat. There’s a bench outside the bridal store with a view of the gym’s front entrance. I’ll wait there, ’cause I’d stand out if I went in with these jeans and a T-shirt.
I scan the street for Andrew’s car. No white 4Runner anywhere. Then again, there’s a full parking lot on the other side of the building. I’ll keep my eye on the corner. If Andrew left work at his usual time, he should be getting here right about now.
But I don’t see him. Of all people, I see Susy coming up the sidewalk, chatting with another girl. Both of them in workout pants and barely there tops, all laced in the back like bikinis. So I guess everybody and their mothers go to this gym but me? Seems more like the place to be than the place to do squats.
Susy doesn’t see me and enters in a rush. I wonder if she’s always come here or if she learned that Andrew did and just joined. Because that would really piss me off, if she thinks for one second she can flirt with him when she knows I won’t be watching.
Andrew’s never mentioned her coming here. Come to think of it, Andrew never mentions anything, and that’s partly my fault because I don’t ask. Because I’m so wrapped up with the way I feel with him that I don’t bother.
Mi vida, ten cuidado. Por favor, no te enredes, Mami’s voice creeps up on me again. I swear I’m cursed. How do I turn her off when I don’t feel like listening to warnings? Suddenly a morbid thought hits me. She’s gone. She’s died from a complication and her ghost is talking to me.
Coño, stop it, Isa. Everything’s really getting to you. I pull out Dad’s cell phone and dial Stefan.
He answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“What’s going on?” I keep my eye on the corner of the building.
“Dad?” Stefan asks.
“Isa, you dork.”
“Duh, I was just playing with you.”
“Is Mami okay?” I ask.
“The doctor just talked to Dad. She’s doing great, no room yet.”
A loud breath escapes me. “Thank God.”
“Yeah, no shit. I’ll call you when we can see her. Where are you?”
“I’m out driving. I’ll be back in a little bit. Tell me when you know anything.”
“Okay. Bye. Driving? Wait—”
I close the phone with a loud smack. Where’s Andrew? Maybe he’s already inside, and I just missed him. How can I find out without standing at the glass like a peeping idiot? Oh, who cares. I get up and walk to the gym’s window, cupping my face at the glass to block the glare.
Inside is a madhouse. Tanned, hard bodies, glistening under neon lights. A few people are actually working out, lifting weights, running on the treadmills. Most are greeting and chatting. Apparently it’s happy hour at Girelli’s.
A spinning class is just getting started, and the instructor shouts even with a headset on. I can see Susy on one of the bicycles, her feet pedaling quickly to keep up with the booming music. She’s crouched over the handlebars, her workout pants stretched down to reveal a thong and a tattoo right above her butt. I never knew she had one. A tattoo, not a butt. Of what, I can’t really tell. Is that a flower? A sun?
Whatever it is, a second later a hand’s covering it—a guy’s hand, at the small of her back, someone with nice arms kissing her cheek. In fact, those arms look a lot like…wait a minute. That’s Andrew. What the hell?
Suddenly I feel a surge of whoop-ass course through me as I yank the gym door open and make a beeline for my so-called boyfriend.
The girl at the front desk calls me over. “Excuse me…”
“I’m just going to tell someone something, one second,” I explain. “I’ll be right out.”
She lets me go, and I push past a guy who looks like the Michelin tire man, find the spinning class, and stop next to Andrew. “Why, hello there,” I say charmingly, trying to control my breathing.
His eyes open wide. “Isa!”
Turning to Miss Ass Crack, I smile from ear to ear. “Hey, chica. Nice to see you.”
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” She huffs and puffs on her bike. Her dumb friend on the one next to her gives me a look for no reason.
“Oh, nothing. Thought I’d come and see Andrew while my mom recovers from surgery. It’ll be a while before I get to see her.” Under these lights, Susy’s blond highlights stand out. I never noticed them at work.
I turn to Andrew again. “Hi, sweetie.” Definitely no kiss for you, dipshit.
“How’s your mom?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.
A nervous hand, perhaps? “She came out of it okay, but I haven’t seen her yet. Can we talk somewhere?”
“Yeah, sure.” Andrew exchanges looks with Susy.
With Andrew behind me, I spin around and head to the front door, completely aware of many faces looking at me. I could never come to this gym. I already feel like I don’t belong.
Outside I lean against the glass. “Can you tell me what that was about?”
“I’m sorry?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Susy. First, I didn’t know she came here, and second, you were being awfully friendly with her.”
“Isa, explain.”
“Explain? You want me to explain? No, Andrew, I think maybe you should talk. Why is she here? And since when are you so chummy with her?”
“I’m not chummy with her. I was just saying hi. Can’t I say hi?”
“Okay, look, there’s saying hi, and then there’s ‘Hey baby, don’t move, I’m trying to cop a feel.’”
“You know, you’re really blowing this out of proportion. I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”
The jealous type? Well, maybe it wasn’t in me till now. Seeing Andrew touch Susy like that just pissed me off. I don’t think I would’ve cared if it was anyone else, but knowing her and her reputation…well, that changes things. “Look, I’m sorry, but I happen to know that Susy…” I pause.
“What? Tell me.”
“Look, Susy does anybody. She goes from guy to guy, and sex is one big party for her, so I’m just a little frustrated because I saw how you touched her. She probably enjoyed it. And the fact that you guys are here without me…”
“Hello? Isa? You’re not making any sense. This is stupid. I’ve told you how I feel about you. Can’t you feel it every time we’re together?” He reaches for one of my crossed arms.
I don’t say anything, tongue tucked into my cheek. I’m sorry, but if it looks like a duck, it’s probably a freakin’ duck, or however that goes. I look at him deeply, trying somehow to transmit all my feelings, without having to say anything. All right, let’s do a little test. If he really cares for me, he’ll see those feelings on my face. If he can’t, then he doesn’t.
Andrew stares, his eyes searching mine, reading, analyzing. Maybe I am being stupid. Maybe Mami’s got me all paranoid.
I’m crazy for you, Andrew. You make me feel beautiful and so alive…. If you feel at all for me the way I do for you, then I need to see it…I need to know, so I have no reason to be jealous…is this getting through?
“I know what the problem is,” he says softly. “We haven’t talked much. That’s my fault. I don’t like talking about…things, but I know you probably need it.”
Hey, not bad.
I let out a deep breath. “What are we doing?” I ask. “I mean, I know you told me ‘one day at a time’ on our first date, and I know you said you’re crazy for me, but how far are we going? I know that sounds like an unfair question after only a month, but I have to know, Andrew. People are telling me things, and I just don’t know who to listen to.”
He sighs. “Listen to yourself.”
Yeah, that’s a good one. Has he ever heard his inner voice when he’s got it bad for somebody? Not quite the voice of reason, is it? “Should we be doing this?”
“That’s up to you. I know how I feel about you, but I haven’t heard much from your end.”
He’s right. I haven’t told him much, either. I guess I have to. I can’t keep doubting and defending him, doubting and defending. I have to pick one and stick with it, and if I get hurt, well then, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
“Andrew…” Sigh. “I’ve never felt about anybody the way I feel about you, not even Robi.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Whatever, keep going. “All I think about is you. At night, I lie in bed, thinking about your eyes, your hands, your voice, your kiss, your everything. Do you understand me?”
He pulls me close. “Yes, I understand.” He kisses me.
Screw everyone. I don’t care if Andrew is bad for me. If something so bad can make me feel this good, then I guess I’m going to hell. But first…“Look at me and tell me there’s nothing going on with Susy.”
His eyes slice right through me, that wicked look that has made mush out of me since day one. He presses his forehead to mine. “There is nothing going on with Susy.”
I want to believe him so badly. His eyes are killing me. Stop it, Andrew. Stop looking at me like that. God, I’m such a sap! I squeeze his hands. “Okay. I’m taking your word for it.” I watch his face for a few seconds. What am I looking for? Twitching? Some sign of a lie?
“Isa, I wanted to tell you something the other night, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”
Okay. I just look at him, waiting.
“I’m falling for you pretty hard. Harder than anyone in a long time. In fact, I think I…no. I’m sure I love you.” His eyes watch mine intensely.
He didn’t. Did he? Did he just say that? “That’s funny. I thought the same thing too. At the restaurant.” I lean my head on his shoulder and breathe into his neck. Just say it. Say it, Isa. “I love you, too.”
He squeezes me hard.
“I gotta go,” I tell him. “My mom’s waiting.”
“All right. Send her my best.”
“I will.”
After one last kiss I start toward the car, but he pulls me toward him again. “Isa, I was thinking about your birthday coming up, and…well, I want to do something nice. It’s on a weekday, but maybe the following Saturday?”
“Like what?”
He looks down, scuffing the sidewalk with his sneaker, then looks back up. “Like go somewhere special, just the two of us.”
I see.
“Of course, it’s totally up to you, but I was thinking maybe…”
Please say it. No, don’t say it. Okay, please say it.
“A room somewhere nice. The Biltmore? Let’s really celebrate. Want to?”
Yes!
“Of course, Coach,” I say, reaching around his shoulders and pressing my body against his. The thought of having Andrew all to myself will fuel many dreams tonight. “That would be so wonderful.”
He hugs me tight and whispers, “I think it’s what we both need.”
“Need is right,” I say, tugging on my earlobe.
Inside her hospital room, my mom looks okay. Tired, drugged, worn, but okay. I just want her to get better already so she can get out of here.
“Jugo,” Mom whispers, eyes closed.
“Juice?” I repeat like a dork, since I heard her just fine the first time. “I’ll tell the nurse, Mami.” I ease my hand out of hers gently and tiptoe to the corridor to find whoever is assigned to my mother.
The nurse is one step ahead of me. Thin and dark-skinned, she strolls up with a small container of apple juice and brushes past me. “Señora Díaz, un poco de jugo,” she says in an accent, Jamaican maybe, a hint of a smile at her lips.
“Ay, gracias.” Mami takes the juice and tries peeling back the foil lid.
The nurse helps her. “Take small amounts so you don’t get nauseated. Remember your anesthesia is wearing off.”
I watch, feeling very powerless, as she takes a small sip. She looks so frail, so unlike her. After everything she’s done for me in my seventeen years, I can’t do anything for her now. Except be here with her. That’s it.
The nurse leaves, and I reclaim my spot next to Mami, taking her hand. “Hi.”
She breathes a quiet laugh and closes her eyes again. “Hi, mi vida.”
Her IV drips. Slowly. I hesitate, then, “I love you.”
With hardly any strength, she squeezes my hand and dozes off.
I know she knows. But still…I had to say it.