“My stuff should work for you. I figured you might want to dress up.”
“Thanks. That should cheer me up a little.” It was the first time I’d referred to the emotional devastation I carried, hung around my neck like prison chains.
She hugged me. “Don’t give up, chiquita. We’re all here for you.”
“That’s the only thing keeping me going.”
Party Hearty
In the end, I wore my own jeans, paired with a silver sparkly top that belonged to Eva. I left my hair down and put on minimal makeup, as I didn’t feel like celebrating, but for Booke, I’d put on a good show. I came out of the guest room in time to act as hostess alongside Eva, who was run ragged between the food and a clingy Cami. My goddaughter liked people, but not in these quantities. I wished I could take her to her room and hide, but nobody was letting that happen. Various aunts and cousins whisked her away, handing her off like a beloved parcel, until all the attention cheered Cami up.
Which freed me to mingle. Awesome.
The musicians were setting up out back, a four-piece roughneck crew who looked like they laid pavement for a living, but after they started tuning their instruments, I changed my mind. Amazing how fast Chuch and Eva had put this together, never imagining it would be a congratulations party and not a farewell. Rich melody poured out of the guitar, sultry and danceable. Apparently others had the same idea, as couples formed up on the patio and spilled over into the yard, Shan and Jesse among them. I was glad to see they didn’t seem self-conscious around me anymore; that was one loose end tied off.
Booke was dancing with one of Chuch’s cousins, the thin and bedazzled Dolores, who had participated in a séance with us a while back. We had been seeking answers from Jesse’s deceased ex, but she didn’t respond well to the fact that he brought a diaphragm as the focus object . . . that belonged to some other woman. That didn’t end well. After the garbage disposal exploded all over the kitchen, I was a little startled to see her, but she seemed to be having a good time with Booke, laughing at his jokes. For my part, I was glad to see him manage a spirited Texas two-step.
A few minutes later, Ramon came up to me, sans Caridad. “Wanna dance?”
The band was just striking up a new tune. “What happened to—”
“Eh, she didn’t pass the family test. Chuch told his mom that she refused to help out, and Tia Elena burned up the phone lines. An hour later, I had my mother on the phone, yelling at me.”
“Not worth the grief?” I wondered aloud.
“Hey, I’d only been out with her four times. I’d have to be nuts to piss off my entire family unless I was crazy in love.”
“Then, sure,” I said. “I’ll dance, as long as there’s not a vicious witch of an ex waiting to hex me over it.”
“Nah.” He wheeled me into the grass, as all the patio space was taken. “I’m pretty irresistible and all, but it takes more than four dates to work the Ortiz magic.”
“You mean that in the figurative sense, right?”
Ramon laughed. “Si, I didn’t get the gift, but my sister did. She throws some mean bones.”
“How does that work?” Though I wasn’t sure, I had the impression Jesse Saldana’s mother didn’t know about his father’s ability to grow gigantic vegetables or her son’s empathy.
Chuch’s cousin raised a brow at me. “You don’t know?”
“I didn’t have a gifted support network growing up, so I missed a lot of things, including the forum where you outsource work, and the ins and outs of—”
“I understand.” He cut me off politely, which I appreciated. Rambling explanations while trying to follow his enthusiastic turns hadn’t been easy. “If you marry into a gifted family, it’s pretty much common knowledge. If you marry a normal, then you keep it quiet, even from your spouse.”
“So Jesse’s mother doesn’t come from a gifted background,” I guessed.
“Probably not. My family, on the other hand, tends to seek mates in the life, so to speak. So even those of us born without any abilities still know the score.”
“That makes sense. Thanks for the tip.” It also explained why Chuch and Eva remained unfazed by the strangeness that I routinely sprang on them.
Based on what I knew of Jesse’s romantic past, he was trying not to follow in his father’s footsteps. He must’ve seen how hard it was to keep a crucial secret, so he started looking at gifted girls when he was ready to settle down. I hadn’t been the one, but maybe Shannon was; given how crazy she was about him, I hoped so.
“You look thoughtful,” Ramon said.
“Is that bad?”
“You’re supposed to be having fun.”
“I’ll do better.” With some effort, I got into the party spirit. “I’ve been meaning to thank you.”
“For what?”
“Hooking me up with the trailer . . . and the Chevelle. I still need to repay you for losing it.”
He shrugged. “It was a lemon anyway. Chuch told me about your problem keeping cars.”
“He makes it sound worse than it is,” I protested.
“Really?” Ramon cocked a skeptical brow, and I fell quiet.
After him, I danced with a number of other cousins. Most of them had wives who didn’t mind parting with them for five minutes, and I put a good face on for the occasion. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Chuch’s primos, just that they were the wrong men. An hour into the dancing, I begged off and went to look for something to eat.
Eva’s food was a big hit; I loaded up my plate more than once. Since I’d helped make everything on the buffet table, I felt justified in savoring it. There were homemade chips and fresh salsa, guacamole and empanadas, plus more American standards, like deviled eggs and a cheese and fruit plate. There were multiple salads other women had brought in—my favorite was one with marshmallows, mandarin oranges, and plenty of whipped cream. It looked more like a dessert to me but I didn’t argue its placement in the food pyramid.
Once it got dark, Chuch fired up the barbecue, and Ramon kindled the strands of twinkle lights, which gave the yard a festive air. Booke came up beside me, as I was having seconds on the fruit and whipped cream salad. He had been dancing nonstop, enjoying his newfound vitality. His moves were a little old-fashioned, but the ladies seemed to find him charming.
“Having fun?” I asked.
“It’s fantastic. American women are astonishingly susceptible to the accent,” he told me. “If I’d known that in 1947, I’d have done a number of things differently.”
“I imagine,” I said drily.
He laughed, then his clever face fell into somber lines. “I don’t know that I deserve a second chance, but I intend to make the most of this one.”
“Where are you going first?”
He thought about that. “Shanghai, I think. I’ve always fancied a tour of the Orient. For a while, I thought our dreams were the closest I’d ever come to seeing the real world again.”
Yeah, about the dreams . . . “If you ever need me, don’t hesitate to contact me that way. But maybe . . .” I didn’t know how to put it.
It’s time to impose some boundaries . . . I don’t think you should be in my head anymore when I’m helplessly, impossibly in love with somebody else.
Fortunately, Booke was every bit as smart as he looked. “I understand. Emergencies only. I won’t wander into your dreams on a whim. I’ve other things to do now anyway.”
“You’ll be busy seducing susceptible American women,” I teased.
He colored, but didn’t deny the allegation. After all, he had been celibate a long time. Which was when it occurred to me . . .