Thirty Nights (American Beauty #1)(88)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Fire and ICE
Three hours later, barefoot and full of carnitas, I watch the Solises tuck away their presents. What is it about giving gifts that is even better than receiving them? Antonio folds the water heater gift card in the pocket of his plaid shirt, next to his heart. The girls are sprawled on the checkered dance floor with their iPads. Javier is examining his new painting supplies with eyebrows that switch from arches to bushy paintbrushes every few minutes. Even Denton is reading Fleming’s book out loud to his wife, Katherine, who looks positively bored.
“Well, you’ve done it!” Reagan says, lounging next to me with her brand-new peacock-blue fascinator, waving her round-trip ticket to London like a fan in front of her face. “You’ve made me fancy Dragon Charming.”
I laugh and throw my arm around her shoulders. “Your present is for me too, you know. Just in case.”
“Any news?”
“Bob called yesterday. They’re working hard but they’re still not sure if…” I can’t finish my sentence but I don’t have to.
She hugs me back in a hold even tighter than Javier’s. “Don’t think about that tonight. But if it happens, I’ll be there and we can have two corgis and stalk Prince Harry.”
I smile, even though I know not even Prince Harry will revive me then. My eyes drift—as they have every few seconds in the last three hours—to the photo of Aiden’s eyes. I have felt them on me while I ate, smiled, danced—thinking they would make me miss him less. But they had the opposite effect. All night, I felt vacant, like an English cottage with brick walls and rose-covered shingles but, inside, empty.
I am so lost in his gaze that I almost miss the wink between the Solises and Reagan. She leaps to her feet so quickly that her fascinator topples to the floor.
“Time for your present,” she sings, drawing out the vowels in an off-key aria and clapping her hands.
“My present? Reagan, no! You were not supposed to buy me anything!” I almost start wailing. How many extra shifts is this going to cost Maria and Javier?
“Oh, put a stopper on it, Isa! We saved loads of money because of Aiden. Now, come on!” She grips both of my wrists and hoists me up. Bloody hell, those barbells she lifts at the Reed gym are working.
“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep my balance as she starts dragging me across the dance floor.
“You’ll see! Aiden is not the only one who can do surprises.”
“Reagan, wait! I need my shoes!” My feet skate on the waxed wood floor as the Solises skip, pad and wheel to us, Denton bouncing behind them.
Maria throws her cream scarf over my shoulders, Bel shoves my purse on my hand, Dora and Daniela are sliding my heels on the wrong feet, Anamelia just fluffs my dress and throws it over her head. The whole time, Maria fires off orders in Spanglish, from drinking more water to putting ice on my blistered feet. Then she kisses my cheeks and cups my face with her overworked, sun-spotted hands.
“Se?or Hale is a good man,” she says with a firm nod.
“Yes, he is.” I smile at hearing her acknowledge this out loud. She pats my cheek and turns on Javier.
“You be careful.” She switches to full English. The giggles stop. “No drink, no trouble, no police.” She stabs her index finger into his chest on each command, even though Javier is the last person in the world who would ever attract police attention to himself.
Still, he knows better than to argue with Maria so he gives her a tight hug. “I promise.”
She marks a cross in the air over his forehead, whispering bendito, and with that, they shove us out of the gallery and into the cool May evening. Apparently, wherever we are going, it will be only Reagan, Javier and I. The two of them grip my arms so tightly that the whole affair looks like a citizen’s arrest. Despite my protests, they don’t release me until we reach Reagan’s MINI. Once there, they shove me in the backseat and in minutes, we are flying down Fifth Avenue.
“Reagan, can you tell me where we’re going now that we’re in the car? I want to ring Aiden. He’ll be really worried if he comes to pick me up and I’m gone.”
“You can call him, Isa. Just tell him it’s a surprise, he should understand.” She winks in the back mirror and turns on the music to Lana’s “Off to the Races”. Javier smiles, making a gesture like he is locking his lips.
I sigh and dig in my purse for my iPhone—yes, I now have an iPhone, courtesy of Aiden. His unearthly face comes on screen. It’s a picture of him resting his head on the sofa, his eyes closed. He looks like he is sleeping next to me.
I scroll through the texts he sent me during the party: be safe, don’t stand under the heavy picture frames and my favorite, here is a floor plan of the safety exits.
I read his military orders, part laughing, part choking. His fear for my safety is palpable—so intense and unrelenting, as though his own life depends on it. Yet not a single text says I wish I was there or I wish you were here. Javier’s questions from the gallery echo, so I tap the call button. He answers on the first ring.
“Elisa, are you okay?” The beautiful voice speaks urgently in my ear.
The moment I hear it, a sunray breaks through the closed shutters of the empty cottage. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”