Page 4 of Not For Keeps
I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding and steer the cart down the next aisle. I start throwing things into it like I’m stocking up for a storm—pasta, rice, canned goods, frozen meals—anything that’ll keep me from having to come here again for a week.
And then I see it. A can of Florecitas. Score.
I toss it into the cart without thinking. Maya loves these. I always keep some on hand at the firehouse for her, but we’ve been out for a while. I grab a second can and drop it in beside the first.
Maybe I’ll leave one there and bring the other to her tonight—afterI eat and take a quick nap.
Chapter Three
ANALYSE
Ifinally call it a night on lesson planning at 8 o’clock—Maya is going to spend the night at Seb and Mari’s. The moment I got home, I rip off my clothes, unhook my bra, and throw on a big T-shirt. I honestly think anyone who willingly wears jeans while at home is insane and I absolutely cannot have that in my life—the second my feet land in my house and that door is closed, those babiesneedto come right off.
Now I’m lying on the floor of my living room, a glass of wine beside me, old school Daddy Yankee blasting from my speaker. What can I say? Sometimes a girl needs a little old school reggaeton to unwind. I’ll never forget the day my mom walked into my room and heard me singing “El Telefono”—she was pissed, and I was punished for a month. In retrospect, an eleven-year-old singing a song about phone sex is completely inappropriate. Sorry, Mami, I was always a bit of a handful.
The weekend has been calling my name all week long, and since Maya won’t be home, I can get all the chores on my list done. I miss her little face. Isn’t it crazy how we want abreak, but the moment we get one, we miss them immediately? She’s my little best friend. I love hearing all about her day and all the stories she makes up—the girl has some imagination. She’s so much fun to be around. Maybe I can call Seb to drop her off? It isn’t too late. No, no. I should let her have fun with them. It’s not her fault I don’t have a life.
Three glasses of wine deep, I decide I should probably have something to eat so that I won’t wake up tomorrow feeling like garbage. I’m too tired to cook, so I decide to toast some bread. While the bread is toasting, I close my eyes and tilt my head back. The alcohol is making me feel warm and fuzzy, and I let the beat of the music wrap around my body like a wave.
The bread springs out of the toaster, and I rush to grab it, burning the tips of my fingers. I take a bite, and it’s definitely the wine, but this is the best piece of toast I’ve ever had in my life. Like, no one has ever made a better toast than this one right here in my hands. I wash it down with more wine and hear the sound of a car pulling up in the front of my house. That’s weird, I’m not expecting anyone tonight—maybe Maya was homesick?
I peek through my blinds and see a red truck that I definitely don’t recognize. I know literally everyone in this town—so, who the hell is that? My confusion lasts for a moment and quickly turns into shock and that quickly turns into rage. You have got to be fucking kidding me.
I throw on a pair of chanclas before I run out the door and yell, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Nico just stands there, staring at me, a stunned look on his stupid face. Why is he stunned? I’m the one who’s stunned. He turns up here, unannounced, when I haven’t heard a single word from him in nearly seven years. This has to be a hallucination. I got myself wine drunk and now for some reason my brain is hallucinating my daughter’s dead-beat father. I’m contemplating taking my chancleta off to throw at him to see if he’s real when he clears histhroat.
Looking me up and down, he says, “Analyse—you look good.”
Is he for real right now? “Don’t ‘you look good’ me, Nico. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Great. You’ve seen me. Now get back into your truck and never see me again.”
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
“I will be like that, Nico. I haven’t heard a peep from you in seven years and you decide to show up—unannounced, I might add—and say you just wanted to see me? Be for real.”
To myself, I mumble, “Este maldito estúpido.”
“I was thinking about you, about our baby. I fucked up. I miss you,” Nico says.
He says “our baby” because he has no idea that we have a daughter, because he never once called, checked in, or tried to glean any information. I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now.
“She’s my daughter,” I say flatly. “If you want to talk about this, come back in the morning. Maya isn’t here, and I’m not doing this right now.”
“I know, I know. I fucked up big time. But I want to make things right. I want to meet her. Be in her life. Be in your life. Be that family you always dreamed about.”
My eyes roll so far back into my head I hear my mom’s warning echoing,They’ll stay that way if you don’t stop. This fucking guy.
“Nico, you and I will never be a family. You lost that chance the moment you walked out on me all those years ago.”
“Just give me a chance. Let me show you?—”
Headlights sweep across the driveway, Nico’s words die on his tongue. Ay dios mio. I run my hand down my face, landing at my neck. Why is everyone showing up to my house unannounced? Since when do I give off the vibe that Ilike visitors without notice? Do I have a sign on my front lawn that saysshow up whenever the hell you feel likeor something? It’s so dark I can hardly make out whose car that is, until he opens the driver’s side door and steps out. Mateo.
And it’s at that very moment that someone else completely takes over my body. because I say, “Mateo, mi amor, I’m so glad you’re here—I missed you.”
