Page 10 of Inherited Light
I squatted and gave the girl a little attention while staring up at my dad. “I have a date tonight, so I decided to take the car.”
Dad’s eyes roamed over me head-to-toe when I stood. “You’re awfully dressed up. Is it anyone I know?”
“You used to know her. Do you remember Cinn’s friend Catalina Chávez?”
“The artist?” he asked rather unexpectedly.
“She’s a wildlife artist, yes. Why?”
He shook his head. “No reason, just wondered if I had the right gal in mind. She’s a lot older than you, son.”
I nodded as I unbuckled the straps which held the cover on the car. It was protection against wind, rain, and hail. I was grateful when Foster said I could park it here until I could find a storage unit for it. I used to keep it at my parents’ house, but since they moved, I had no choice but to rent a place to store it. Once summer ends, I’ll park it in a garage and leave it there for the winter.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, beginning to roll the cover off from the front to the back, being careful of my clean clothes and tie.
“I would say it’s less of a problem and more a consideration,” he answered while I put the cover to the car in the back of my truck. I would be back later to swap the two out again, regardless of how late we finished our date.
I brushed my hands off and rested them on my hips. “I’m a grown man now, Dad. I’m not marrying her. I’m taking her out for the evening.”
He held up his hands. “I only have your best interests at heart, Lorenzo.”
“And by best interests you mean the fact she’s in a wheelchair,” I said, reading his mind.
He sighed and shook his head. “I have nothing against Catalina, Lorenzo. She’s a beautiful woman and the wheelchair doesn’t factor into this in any way. I simply hope you’ll consider how deeply you want to get involved with her until you’ve decided what you want out of life.”
I nodded slowly and chewed on the inside of my lip to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate how you’ve always got my back.” I do appreciate how much my parents care, even if sometimes it’s annoying. I don’t want them to think I don’t love them. I’m thankful for everything they’ve given up for me and the way they’ve supported me my whole life.
“Have you found a job to start after you finish the shelter work?” he asked and I tried not to audibly groan. He wanted me to work for a company where I would get benefits and good pay, but I enjoyed working for myself and wasn’t leaning his way at all.
I could see it would become a sticking point soon enough, so I decided to appease him for the night. “I searched the want ads in the paper today at lunch and found a few places hiring. I’ll put in an application online tomorrow morning.”
He grinned and gave me the thumbs up, the same way he used to do when I was five. “Good, I know you’ll find something.”
I opened the driver’s door and stood with one arm on the doorframe. “I’m sure I will, too.” But chances are it won’t be what I’m looking for out of life. I didn’t say what I was thinking, though. He had enough to worry about. “Say hi toMàmafor me?” I asked, sitting down in the seat and he nodded, waving as he took Annabelle inside.
Once he disappeared, I climbed from the car and yanked the truck door open. I carefully moved the wood vase and flower from the truck’s cup holder to the car, then grabbed the other package, locked the vehicle, and pocketed the key. I slid into the leather seat of the BMW and inhaled deeply. The scent of leather mixed with the scent of Mabel’s favorite cigars, which still clung to the interior the way a woman’s perfume lingers long after she’s gone. Once I was inside the car, I fastened my seatbelt, and cranked the key over. The car purred like a kitten and I waited for the shot of teenage boy excitement to flow through me, but it didn’t come. Why was I nervous? I asked myself as I drove away from the shelter and aimed the car down the highway. It isn’t like I’ve never been on a date before. Sure, it’s been a lot of years, but dating is kind of like riding a bike. I would have a great time with Cat, even if we never went past a first date.
I glanced at the clock as I headed toward Martindale. I had time to stop and wash the car, but since it had been under the cover, there wasn’t much point. Besides, the edges of the doors would hold water from its sprucing up and I didn’t want her or her chair to get wet.
I tapped my fingers on the wheel. Maybe I gave myself too much time and she wouldn’t be ready. I didn’t want to get there early and have her be upset with me. I did the math and figured by the time I arrived in Martindale I would only be fifteen minutes early. I decided to drive slowly and I could always kill more time once I got there. I flipped the radio to a soft jazz station and half listened to Thelonious Monk tickle the ivories while my brain whirred.
I suppose most guys my age wouldn’t listen to jazz, or even know who Thelonious Monk was. Then again, most guys my age didn’t grow up with a sister who could play with the likes of Thelonious Monk, and half of the other great jazz legends. Cinn taught me to appreciate fine music. She taught me making a living with your hands doesn’t have to be work if it’s something you love, and to listen to my gut because it won’t steer me wrong. My dad had hopes I would be more than a carpenter one day. He dreamed I would one day be hitting for the Dodgers or the Padres. Fact is, I couldn’t live a life like professional baseball players live. I would miss my home and my family too much. I love baseball, but not enough to do it for a living. Someday, I want to be more than a carpenter. Like Cinn, I want to teach. I hope to gain enough experience to teach carpentry at a college or technical college, but first I need to put my time in and learn the trade.
My mind drifted to the beautiful woman I would be picking up in a few minutes. I spent the afternoon, as I assembled the flower vase, trying to muster an image in my mind of what she looked like when we were kids, but I couldn’t. All I could see were her beautiful brown eyes and sweet, curly hair. I hadn’t told Cinn last night about our date. She needed to recover, and since she wouldn’t be at the shelter tonight, hopefully our parents wouldn’t say anything about it. If the date ended up a bust, at least I wouldn’t have to explain to my sister why her friend and I didn’t jive. I didn’t believe for a moment the date would be a bust, though.
I signaled left toward Martindale and let my gaze fall on the flower vase resting on the passenger seat. I almost quit making it half a dozen times this afternoon. Maybe real flowers would be better, I kept telling myself, but my hands kept carving and sanding. Cinn taught me something else in life; the only way to find the person truly meant to be with you, is to know them on the same level they know themselves. It sounds complicated, but it isn’t. If you find the person’s passion and learn about it, then show educated interest in what they’re passionate about, you’ll make an immediate connection to their heart.
Cinn’s first husband didn’t try to understand her passion. As soon as the going got tough, he ditched her with Mabel and divorced her as quickly as possible. Then along came Foster, and he understood my sister’s passions were her family and her music. He immediately shared his fondness for our grandmother, and it touched Cinn’s heart more than any store-bought flowers ever would.
I had to hope Cat felt the same way about my wooden flower. She’s a wildlife and nature artist, so I used her medium, and my medium, to make something to last much longer than the first date.
“Turn left in one quarter mile,” my GPS said, breaking into my thoughts and making me jump.
I glanced up to the street signs, watching for Hollyhock Lane. When it loomed ahead of me I checked the clock. I managed to drive slow enough on the way over I was only ten minutes early. Hopefully she saw it as excitement and not desperation. I drove along Hollyhock Lane searching for 722. My heartbeat picked up the closer I got to the 700 block and I chewed on my lip. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe Dad’s right and I should be settled before I try to woo an older woman.
“Lorenzo, stop,” I said aloud. “You can do things your way without them being the wrong way. Stop second guessing yourself.”
I took a deep breath before I slowed at a driveway. As I swung the BMW into it, I wondered ifthisfirst date would be the one to change my life forever.
