Furia(23)

He took both my hands in his own warm and calloused ones and led me to the center of the cobblestone courtyard. “Let’s go join the children now that all’s settled.”

The children, Diego included, played under the supervision of one of the Sisters.

Peter and the Lost Boys. I prayed they all reached their dreams like Diego had reached his. But more than that, I prayed that I might reach mine, and that nothing and no one—not even me—would get in the way.





10





“Everything went well?” Diego asked.

“Yes, I think the job’s going to be fun.” My heart was pounding, and not because of the kids or Father Hugo. It was only three thirty, and the promise of spending the rest of the day with Diego, just the two of us, made my body thrill.

“The kids already love you.” His smile was blazing, and then his eyes got bashful. “And how can I blame them?”

“Stop it,” I said, slapping his arm but really wanting to slap myself.

It didn’t take much more than a charged look for my fantasies to grow like a wildfire. I didn’t know what to do or say.

“What’s wrong?” He must have felt my anxiety.

A dry leaf was lodged in his hair, and I reached out my hand to pluck it. My fingers lingered on his soft curls for a second, and when I brushed the back of his neck, his skin broke into goosebumps.

“Your hands are cold,” he said, grabbing my wrist and kissing my palm.

Softly I pulled my hand away and crossed my arms.

In a few days, he’d be back in Turín. Was I really going to do this again? Fall for him even though he was leaving? I didn’t want to have him and then lose him again.

Diego turned the engine on. “Do you still want to go out with me, Mama?”

“Do you?”

Chamuyo and histeriqueo: the Argentine national arts of sweet-talking, teasing, and flirting. I didn’t want to play this game with Diego, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“I’ve been dreaming about taking you to the river forever. And look, the weather’s perfect. We couldn’t have asked for a better day.”

“I thought we were going to the planetarium.”

“It’s closed until December. They’re renovating it. Next time I’m taking you for sure.”

“Let’s go, then.” I sat back, relishing the warm caress of the sun on my face. Diego turned the radio on and pushed some buttons on the dashboard before he landed on FM Vida.

“You still listen to this station?” I asked, tapping my foot to a Gustavo Cerati song I’d never heard before. His voice and the guitar were unmistakable.

“All the time. On the app,” he said. “The guys on the team love my music.”

A car behind us honked and passed us on the right.

“You’re driving too slowly, Titán,” I said. “Are you scared?”

Diego shrugged but kept his eyes glued to the road ahead. He sped up, honking at every intersection, even when he had the right of way, just like all the other cars around us. “I’ve driven in Paris and Rome, but driving in Rosario requires a sixth sense, you know?”

“No, I actually don’t, seeing as I’ve never driven before,” I said, worried for the delivery girl with giant headphones zigzagging through the traffic on a motorcycle.

Diego glanced at me. “Do you want to learn?”

“Sure!” I laughed. “But how? My dad’s never going to let me touch his Peugeot. Not even my mom knows where he hides the car keys.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Diego said, turning sharply on Chacabuco toward Parque Urquiza.

“What?” I asked, sounding panicky. “What if I crash into a tree, or a person?”

“It’s not like jumping out of an airplane, Cami. You’ll see how easy it is.”

Too soon, the planetarium dome peeked through the naked tree branches and palm trees. The park was teeming with activity. A group of elderly people practiced tai chi on the lawn, apparently oblivious to the teenagers playing fútbol next to them. On the other side of the sidewalk, older men in berets and knitted cardigans threw bocce balls with the same concentration I saw on my mom’s face when she embroidered dresses. A young father jogged next to a little girl pedaling furiously on her tiny pink bicycle. His hand hovered behind her when her bike wobbled, but she didn’t fall.

Diego slowed down and finally stopped at an empty parking lot behind an abandoned supermarket. “Now get out.”

“I can’t,” I said, grabbing on to my seat.

Diego got out, came around the car, and opened my door. “Let’s do it, nena,” he said, taking my hand and gently pulling me out.

“What if you get hurt?” I tried to take my hand back, but he didn’t budge. He tugged me to the driver’s side, leaving me in front of the door. “?Estás loco?”

He turned around and held my gaze as if daring me to read the answer in his eyes. He stepped forward, and I stepped back like we were in a tango duel. The car pressed against my back. I had no escape.

“Nothing bad is going to happen,” he said. “Don’t be scared.”

The scent of his cologne went to my head, and before I did something stupider than driving a car that cost more than my life, I stomped my foot and said, “Fine!” I got in the driver’s seat, fuming.