Page 82 of Sombra
Sixteen
Kim - Lessons
I’m pounding almonds in the kitchen to makealmendracookies. Mari Carmen bustles about preparing chorizo for dinner, while Tavo’s aunt Valeria deveins shrimp. Tavo and his brothers kick a soccer ball outside. His mom is nowhere to be seen, althoughI have my suspicions she’s with that mystery man, since I saw him another time in the hall when I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
Tavo snuck into my room once or twice, but there are too many people living in the main house, so we go to his place. I have no idea how many times his mom’s late night visitor has come.
The October air has a chill in it. A sharpness.One that’s softened when I’m with Tavo and warmed by cooking. I’m loving all the instruction I’m receiving in Spanish cuisine.
As Mari Carmen slices the sausage, she talks about her counseling with the priest before she and Jorge get married. Since she’s speaking in Spanish, I don’t understand all of it, but I understand more than I did a month ago. I know she’s saying that the priest madeher talk out her issues with Jorge.
And as she talks about Jorge, I think about Shane. It’s been two weeks since we’ve communicated, and it feels so … unresolved. I’ve stopped checking my laptop days ago, because nothing comes and I’m tired of waiting for him.
I hope we can still be friends. That said, I’m sure he’s not the love of my life.
Is Tavo?
Is this trip justa wild-oat-sowing time of breaking free? Or is he the all-encompassing love of my life?
My conscious mind tells me that I’m too young to know, this is first love, and first love doesn’t last. That my postpubescent hormones are acting up, and I’ve merely latched onto the first attractive person I found when I had the barest hint of freedom.
My subconscious tells me that Tavo and Iare bonded like nothing I’ve ever felt before. We’ve created something bigger than the two of us combined, and it can’t be split apart without serious damage. I’m in a dreamlike state of shock that I’m allowed to touch him. That he really wants me the way I want him. The way we fit together so tightly. The way we explore each other.
But there are consequences. I haven’t told my parentsanything, since Shane needs to know first. But he won’t respond, so they still think I’m coming home to a wedding, which makes me want to hurl.
I have no one else to talk to. Maggie’s been out of cell phone service on a backpacking trip, so I have to wait until she gets back to civilization.
So right now, I just think of how much I enjoy the scratchy feel of Tavo’s face on my cheekwhile he kisses and cuddles me. Count how many times he makes goosebumps rise on my arm. Bask in the feeling that I’m safe and secure with him, always.
I look at the almond cookie recipe. It’s in Spanish, but I’m getting better at working with recipes. At least I know the words for flour, sugar, and eggs. Using the metric measuring cup, I make the dough. I shape the cookies, place themon a tray, and slide them in the oven. Then I go over and help Valeria with the shrimp.
Thank God Sonia’s not here. Tavo’s mom still invites her for dinner every Sunday. I can’t really tell what’s going on with her. She barely says a word to Tavo and mostly talks to Guillermo. Somehow, though, her ignoring Tavo is worse than her coming on to him. I just don’t trust her. I don’t know why.She gives me a bad feeling. If I were the violent type, I’d come up with a few choice fantasies for getting her out of here, because whenever she’s around, Tavo’s jumpier.
The timer goes off for the cookies. I pull the tray out of the oven and call the boys. “¡Tavo! ¡Antonio! ¡Guillermo! ¿Quiereis café y galletas?”
Whenever I talk in Spanish, I get a warm feeling of pride in my chest.More than a month here, and I’ve learned so much.
I wish I were staying longer.
The boys—really, men—run in, panting hard from playing soccer.
Antonio sniffs at the kitchen. “¿Qué tienes para nosotros? Huele muy bien.”
Gesturing at the cookies cooling on the rack with the rich scent filling the air, I say, “Galletas de almendra. Son calientes.”
They all washtheir hands, grab glasses of water, and sit at the table. I gaze at them, these handsome young Spanish men. They’re pretty freaking adorable. Guillermo with his new haircut. Antonio’s hair is longer, too. And Tavo?
Happy sigh.
Placing a plate of warm cookies in the middle of the table, I hand them each napkins and pour cups of coffee. Antonio and Guillermo scarf down the cookieslike they’ve never eaten a single thing ever in their lives. Mari Carmen picks up one carefully and takes a delicate bite.
“Kim,¡Es delicioso!”
I don’t really care if it’s Spanish overstatement or not. I’m going to let in the compliment. “Gracias,” I say, and take one for myself.
Tavo polishes off three, and then his coffee-colored eyes lock on mine.
It’s really difficultbeing in the same room with him and his family because he always turns me on wildly, and I have to hide it. Thankfully, I have an easier time than him.
