Big Chicas Don't Cry(77)

Dear God, help me finish my work so I can go home and take a nap. Making another human being is exhausting. Amen.

I stared at my planner for another minute or so. The words I’d already written were a blurry mess. My eyelids grew heavy, and I was just about to give up the fight when there was a knock on my classroom door.

“Come in,” I yelled and sat up in my chair.

A tall, dark-haired man walked inside and gave me a little wave. “Hello. Mrs. Lopez?”

“Hello. How can I help you?” I said as he walked closer, ignoring the “Mrs.” part.

“I’m Joshua Davila. I’m Celina’s dad.”

I smiled and stood up. “Oh, hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

We shook hands, and I couldn’t help but notice that while his fingers and palms seemed rough, he held mine with such gentleness.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said after we let go. “I just wanted to stop by to introduce myself. Celina talks about you all the time, you know.”

That made me laugh. “Hopefully, it’s all good.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry; it is. We just moved here from Bakersfield, and I was a little worried about her starting at a new school. But she really loves it, and I think that has a lot to do with you.”

My cheeks heated with embarrassment. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I rushed out and then quickly regretted it. Why was it always so hard for me to accept a compliment? Or even believe it? “She’s a sweet girl. You and your wife are doing a great job.”

“It’s just me and Celina, actually. But, thank you.”

For some reason, I wasn’t saddened by this news. And I should’ve been.

Dear God, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for being okay with the fact that poor Celina doesn’t have a mom. I promise to say ten Hail Marys tonight before bed.

“Is everything okay, Mrs. Lopez?”

Mr. Davila’s question brought me out of my quick prayer of regret. “Oh. Yes, sorry. And it’s Ms. Lopez. Or Gracie. You can call me Gracie.”

He smiled and nodded. “Okay. Please call me Joshua.”

“Thank you.” I had no idea why I thanked him. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to question it.

“So, Gracie, how long have you been at St. Christopher’s?”

“Well, I actually went to school here eons ago. But I’ve been a teacher now for almost six years,” I answered.

“Wow, you went here? Let me guess. You were a straight-A student, right?”

I laughed at that way more than I should’ve. What was wrong with me? Is that what they called pregnancy brain?

“Not every year. I might have gotten a B or two in seventh grade.”

A voice cleared behind us, and that’s when I noticed Tony standing in the doorway. I hadn’t even heard him come in. And why did he have that look on his face?

“Tony, um, I mean Mr. Bautista, this is Joshua—I mean Mr. Davila. He’s Celina’s dad.”

My face heated again with embarrassment and some other feeling. Wait, was I feeling guilty about something?

Tony walked over and shook Joshua’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” the other man responded.

The three of us looked at each other in an awkward silence. Finally, Joshua said he had to go and left Tony and me alone.

“I still need to pack up my things, and then I’ll be ready to leave,” I said and walked over to my desk.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Tony said as I put my planner in my backpack.

“I guess. I just met him.”

“And what does he think of you?”

That made me look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I was just getting a vibe from him.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony walked over and sat on the edge of my desk. “He was flirting with you.”

Was he? Did that mean I was flirting back? That explained the guilt. But then again, what did I have to feel guilty about? Irritation bubbled up inside me.

Erica and Selena were definitely rubbing off on me. That was the only explanation for me to say what I was about to say.

“And?” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “Is it so hard to believe that some other man would find me attractive?”

Tony jumped off the desk, waving his hands. “What? No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I guess I was just a little jealous,” he said with a shrug.

“Of Joshua? Why?”

“Because you’re my girl, Gracie.”

If joy was helium, I would’ve floated to the ceiling. “I am?”

Tony wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. Then he kissed me softly. When we pulled apart, he smiled. “Of course you are.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t tired anymore.





Chapter Forty-Six


ERICA


Who knew that watching grown men fight over a little black-and-white ball would make me so happy?

Adrian knew.

He’d surprised me that morning with tickets to go see LAFC play against the Portland Timbers at the Banc of California Stadium in Los Angeles. Ever since the funeral, I’d become somewhat of a hermit. Although I’d seen him at work, I’d bowed out on going to dinner, going to the movies, and basically any activity that required me to change out of my sweatpants. But, I couldn’t say no to soccer.