The Spanish Love Deception

At the same time, my dad answered, “No. Not that one.” He scratched the side of his head.

“Short?” offered Gonzalo. “Clumsy?”

My head whipped in his direction.

Aaron hummed. “Ridiculously stubborn?”

Not bothering to turn toward him, I rammed my elbow into his side. He gently grabbed my arm and laced our fingers together, placing them on top of the table. I stared at our linked hands, all outrage immediately vanished.

Then, Aaron dipped his head and told me in a low voice, “I didn’t want to be left out.”

I looked over at him and found yet another of those smiles that made me weak in the knees. Something fluttered low in my belly. Dammit.

“Gracias, all of you,” I murmured.

My dad kept searching his mind for whatever word he didn’t seem to remember. “It isn’t any of those words. Just let me think.”

Daniel cleared his throat, finally taking part in the conversation. “What if you tell us the word in Spanish, and we can translate it, Javier?” he suggested.

My mom nodded her head. “Claro, usa el Google, Javier.” Use the Google, Javier.

“Papá,” I told him with a sigh, “just let it go—”

“Firecracker,” he blurted out. “Our Lina is a little firecracker.”

All right. That was actually not that bad.

“So, she can be too much to handle. Often.”

Oh. I deflated a little in my chair, my hand remaining in Aaron’s.

“She’s always chattering like she has too much to say and not enough time to do so. Or laughing like she doesn’t care she’ll wake up the half of the world that’s sleeping. She can also be a littl

e defiant, and God knows she is stubborn as they come. But that’s all fire. Passion. That’s what makes her our Lina. Our little terremoto.” Our little earthquake.

My dad’s eyes started shining under the light of the few lamps that had switched on as we entered the night. Something in my chest constricted.

“And for a while there, it wasn’t like that. All that lightness faded out, and seeing my daughter going through something like that wasn’t easy. It broke our hearts. Then, she left, and even if we knew it was what she wanted and needed to do, our hearts broke a little further.”

Tears were rushing to my eyes by then, the pressure behind them increasing with every word from my father. With every memory he unearthed.

“But that’s in the past. She’s here now, and she’s okay. Happy.” My mom reached out, taking my dad’s hand in hers.

Not able to hold myself any longer, I stood up on shaky legs and walked around the table. When I reached my dad, I wrapped him in a hug and kissed his cheek. “Te quiero, Papá.” Then, I did the same with my mother. “A ti también, tonta.” All the while, I held my tears in as if my life depended on it. I wouldn’t cry. I refused. “Now, stop it, okay? Both of you. Save something for tomorrow.”

When I returned to my seat, I watched my hand reaching for Aaron’s. As if it no longer conceived not being held in his. Absorbed by my own gesture, my heart flopped in my chest when his hand met mine midway, linking our fingers and bringing them to his mouth to brush his lips over the back of my hand. It was all so fast that by the time it was over and our linked hands rested on top of the table, I wouldn’t have known it had really happened if not for the scorching imprint of his lips on my skin.

My mother spoke next, returning my attention to her, “It makes me so happy to have you home, cariño.” Then, her eyes landed on Aaron. “To see you like this.” Her smile widened, the sadness vanishing.

A pang of guilt sliced my gut, followed by something sultry and dense. Something that tasted like regret and hope.

“For a moment there, I thought she wouldn’t really bring you, Aaron. I even questioned if you were real.” She chuckled, and I swore my lungs stopped working for a heartbeat. Her gaze met mine, a light smile on her face. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve never talked about anyone you were seeing or brought anyone home from New York the few times you came back. And it was all so … sudden.”

“Honestly, hermanita,” Isabel pitched in, sounding suspiciously interested, “we thought you’d end up like one of those old ladies who dedicated their life to a bunch of cats. But instead of cats, it would have to be fish. Or like … geckos because you are allergic to cat fur.” She snickered. “We constantly talked about it in family gatherings.”

“Thanks for the faith,” I muttered and then stuck my tongue out in my sister’s direction. I couldn’t believe they were saying that kind of stuff with someone they believed I was dating at the table. Or better yet, with someone they knew I had dated sitting right there. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Aaron’s fingers gripped mine a little tighter, and I felt mine returning the gesture.