Lonely Heart (17 page)

I forced myself to sober. “Okay, so we’ll plan for the next time.”

“Next time? Do you know what it’s goin’ to take to get a babysitter? I’m not some single woman who can get laid on a whim. This is gonna take lots of plannin’. We’re talkin’ about timin’ and ─”

I pulled her down and kissed her quiet; she sighed.

“Do you want me?” I whispered against her mouth.

An exaggerated sigh escaped. “Yes…”

“Then we’ll make it happen. In fact, I know the perfect time.”

Her eyes brightened. “When?”

“In two weeks we’re holding a Quinceañera for the twins.”

“What’s that?” Kaitlyn sat up, brushed her hair over her shoulders so it now fell down her back leaving her beautiful breasts exposed.

Talk about distracting.

“It’s their fifteenth birthday party, where they enter womanhood.”

“Womanhood? Isn’t that kinda young?”

“Not in my culture. You’ll need a babysitter because it doesn’t start until nine at night and will go into the morning.”

“So…we’ll be out all night?”

“All night.” Unable to help myself, I ran my fingers down her arm, loving the way she reacted to my touch.

Her expression turned sour. “But two weeks?” Kaitlyn fell over on the bed, feigning depression.

I laughed and rolled on top of her. “It will be over before you know it. Until then...,” I kissed her nose, “keep a positive attitude. Remember, Chloe is counting on you.” I kissed the lids of her eyes. “Tiffany is counting on you.” I kissed her lips. “And I need you,” I whispered.

More than she would ever know.

“But what about now? We’re both half naked and it’s…,” she leaned up to peer at the clock on her nightstand. “Six in the morning. Tiffany and Chloe won’t be up for hours. I need a distraction and a cold shower ain’t gonna do it.”

My attention went to the side of her throat. “We could fool around.”

“Uh, no. If I can’t get any then…whoa!”

I pushed her back on the bed, gripped the edge of her tight shorts, and slid them down her legs.

“Wait, no condoms, remember?”

“Sí, I remember.” I kissed her belly button and tasted her skin. “My pants aren’t coming off, but we can still have some fun. Besides I want to hear that sound…” I kissed a newly discovered mole on her abdomen.

Her fingers found the top of my head. “What sound?”

“The one you’re going to make when I do this…” I lowered my head and sampled the true essence of Kaitlyn.

Her breath caught, and I got my reward.

After my evening spent with Antonio, I took his advice and took everything in stride. The things within my control – my home, my health, caring for my daughter and sister – got my full attention.

I would do my best when the time came to my job. And Luke? Well, if he couldn’t accept his part in Chloe’s life, she wouldn’t be the only fatherless child on the planet.

Letting go was easier than I thought. Then again, a hot make-out session with Antonio cured a lot of things. Who knew pent up sexual frustration could be so damning?

That man gave me so many orgasms I lost count. Talk about self-less. He wouldn’t let me do anything except kiss him and grip the hell out of his hair. It’s a wonder there was any left.

That was a week ago. In the morning he asked me for help with his plan to re-open the shop. It amazed me how much he put his heart and soul into the project without any solid proof his ideas would be used. We made plans for him to come back with his laptop so we could go over some ideas, do research, and eat dinner. Two birds, one stone.

I looked at the time. “Oh crap!” He would be here in less than an hour and dinner wasn’t started yet. I looked around my kitchen and sighed.

Sketches from work, the set designs and script, were spread across my kitchen table. Amongst it all sat Chloe in her bouncy chair, her big brown eyes staring at me as she explored the taste of her fist.

I assessed my attire. Sweat pants from pregnancy days and a matching t-shirt. Both smelled like throw up from today’s burping experience. My hair was a tasseled mess on top of my head. Between the two of us, Chloe’s fresh, hot pink Onesie with matching booties and a pink headband made her an angel.

“Oh yeah, I scream sexy, right?” Chloe blew spit bubbles. A stream of saliva sputtered out, hitting my shirt. “Thanks for the improvement.” I reached over with a soft cloth, dried the remnants from her fat cheeks, and kissed her.

There wouldn’t be enough time to start dinner, clean up the kitchen, and shower before Antonio arrived.

If I shoved everything into my bag that would leave me time to take Chloe and the bouncy chair into the bathroom and take a quick shower. It wouldn’t be hard convincing Antonio to order delivery. Problem solved.

Part one of my mission was completed when the doorbell rang.

“Shoot.”

Ever since breaking into my apartment, Antonio had a key. He still rang the bell before entering, though. Would it be possible to sneak into the bathroom before he walked in? Crap, no because my clothes were in the dryer.

“Kaity, I’m here…” Antonio froze in his tracks, then examined me from head to toe.

My work bag was slung over my shoulder, Chloe’s chair in my arms, and of course just then, my ponytail holder malfunctioned. The blond mass of tangles fell in my face.

“Stop laughing.” I blew hair out of my face since my hands were full.

Antonio closed the door and set his laptop bag on the coffee table. “Let me take her.” He reached for the bouncy chair.

Chole’s reaction never failed. The moment she set eyes on him, she’d smile, coo, and kick.

“Hola, Chiquita.” He set the chair on the sofa and picked her up, cuddling her cheek next to his. “I’ve missed you.”

Chloe answered him with a toothless grin.

He held her against his chest, securing her in his arms. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, got a lot done. I was supposed to shower, but…,” I shrugged.

Antonio gave me a visual inspection. “The Frazzled Mommy look…it’s sexy.” He grinned.

I smirked. “Yeah, right.”

He laughed. “I’m serious. Model it for me?”

I shook my head in disbelief, then complied when he twirled his finger.

He wagged his eyebrows and whistled. “Oh yeah, that’s really hot.”

“You are a mess.” I laughed.

“Go shower. Chloe and I will sit here. We’ve got some catching up to do, don’t we?” He tickled Chloe’s belly, then kissed her cheek.

“Thanks.” I started down the hall.

“You forgot something.”

I turned around, checked the floor.

“Up here.” He indicated his mouth.

After the last time we’d seen each other, how could I forget those lips. “I smell like baby throw up.”

“Mom perfume.” He grinned. “Come here.”

I slipped into his one free arm and hugged him. The kiss was not one of the sizzling variety, but one of familiarity and comfort. Simple, yet it spoke volumes.

“Take your time. We’ll decide on dinner when you come out.”

I made my way to my bedroom, stopping at the alcove in the hall that housed the washer and dryer. Clean clothes in hand, I stepped into the bathroom and stripped.

The fragrant Peach and Mango shampoo and conditioner felt like heaven, so did the body wash. The smell of motherhood dissipated. God, it felt good to resemble a woman again.

Out of the shower, I dried off and stood naked in front of the mirror. My stomach resembled my pre-pregnancy body; the incision from the C-Section was barely visible. My breasts were full, even though I had started weaning Chloe off of breast milk. With my work schedule, it proved hectic trying to work in times to pump breast milk during the day. I hated the idea of switching her over to formula. For the past month she’d been picky about the bottle, spitting it and the milk out every chance she got. Her facial expression was one of disgust. I could imagine her thinking,
‘You want me to eat that? I don’t think so.’

But it wouldn’t last much longer. Now she went across the hall to Mrs. Rodriguez during the day. Without me being there, she had no choice but to take the bottle when she got hungry. I felt awful about it, but Antonio’s grandmother knew exactly what to do. She promised Chloe would love the bottle in no time.

I prayed my breasts would retain some form of elasticity when the milk dried up. My D-cup breasts had always been perky.

Although, Antonio seemed pleased with every part of my body.

I reached for the olive oil. Since pregnancy, it was hard keeping my skin from drying out. Olive oil left me soft all over.

It was then I noticed my toes. All the polish had worn off. Antonio said to take my time, so, I grabbed the nail polish remover, a bottle of hot pink, and went to work.

My hair was dry by the time I was done. The ponytail holder was my go to hair style, but Antonio preferred it down. I stared in the mirror deciding style would spice up my appearance. I plugged in the curling iron and got dressed.

I chose leggings and a tank top. My new hair style, simple curls, made me realize my face needed a lift. My eyes appeared drained. So mascara, eye liner, lip gloss, and Visine did the trick.

I threw the mommy clothes in the laundry basket, feeling like a new woman.

“Sorry it took so long.” I spoke while walking out of my room and down the hall. “What do you want for dinner?”

I stopped in my tracks. Antonio lay on the floor, his shoes off, feet resting on the sofa. Chloe lay on his chest, both of them fast asleep.

My hand went to my mouth. Antonio held my daughter, protective even in his sleep. If she moved, he would awake to make sure she didn’t fall. My heart warmed from the sight. I retrieved my cell phone from the kitchen table, snapped pictures, then stared.

This is what Chloe needed; a father. I attempted to imagine Luke in Antonio’s place. It was impossible. Anytime I visualized her biological father, the image blurred.

But Antonio’s image came in crystal clear, even in my imagination when he wasn’t here.

As if sensing my presence, Chloe woke and squirmed. Antonio tightened his grip the moment she moved.

“It’s okay, she sees me.” I picked up my baby girl, nuzzling her neck.

Antonio sat up, rubbed his eyes, then whistled. “Wow, you are…”

I winked, modeling my new look. “A hot momma?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

I settled on the couch; he followed, not taking his eyes off of me.

“You need to spend more time on yourself. Being a mom doesn’t always mean you have to look worn out.”

“Easier said than done.” My attention went back to Chloe who squirmed, turning her head towards my breast. “Oh no you don’t. Momma has to get you a bottle.”

“Are they in the refrigerator?” Antonio stood.

“Yes, don’t forget to─”

“I’ve got it. It will be the right temperature.” He winked. “Remember, younger sisters and a nephew.”

I watched Antonio strut into the kitchen full of confidence and wondered yet again why he was in my life. I started to ask but decided against it. Whatever this was happening between us was good. With the mistakes of my past, I would be a fool to risk destroying it.

Antonio handed me the bottle, then sat next to me so that my back leaned against him. His arm rested on the back of the sofa.

I snuggled into him, glad for the now familiar contact.

“Thanks.” The luke-warm bottle was perfect.

Just like Antonio.

“Antonio, why didn’t you tell me about the church service?” I whispered, then punched his arm.

“I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable going to church with me. It’s usually just family and close friends,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

I shot him a side eye.

It was the night of his sisters’ Quinceañera and apparently there were activities that happened during the early part of the day I wasn’t aware of.

“Besides, I didn’t want your babysitter working overtime. This evening is the highlight of the entire event.” He winked.

The reference to our private after party made my skin flush in anticipation. I couldn’t wait. But, first things first.

I forced my attention back to Adrianna as she described the events scheduled for the evening.

“Once dinner is served, there will be a dance with our father and Antonio. Then the damas and caballeros─”

“That’s the Court of Honor, or their escorts,” Antonio clarified. The expression on my face must have made it obvious I had no clue what she meant.

“Exactly. They will join them in a few symbolic dances.” Adrianna paused. “Antonio, I can’t believe you didn’t tell her all of this.” She shook her head in disappointment.

“Hey, this is for the women more than the men. I respect the tradition and didn’t want to explain it the wrong way.” He winked at me.

“¡Ay Dios mio! You’ve never been a good liar.”

I laughed. Watching Antonio interact with his family reminded me of the rare times in the Rodgers household where being together meant something. It especially made me miss my brothers.

My attention left their verbal sparring and studied the elaborate decorations of the room. The festivities were held in a community center in the heart of the Latino community. My first impression upon entering the room was of a wedding reception instead of a celebration of Carmen and Catalina’s fifteenth birthday. It amazed me how different cultures viewed the landmark event.

My Sweet Sixteen consisted of a cupcake and a gift card from Wal-Mart. My young brothers chased me around the house until they got their sixteen punches in and one to grow on. Tiffany was six and didn’t really know what was going on.

The colors of the room were gorgeous. Vibrant pink, blue, purple, and green ribbons, tied into elaborate bows, decorated the back of each chair. Each table seated ten guests. A low lying centerpiece made up of roses and calla lilies, adorned with a large butterfly, were eye catching pieces. The colors were different at each table. At our table sat Antonio, his sister Adrianna and her son, their father and his date, his grandmother, his cousin Fernando, and his recently widowed mother. Only two seats remained empty. Antonio mentioned they were for his other cousins.