Page 54 of Dealing Dirty
Chapter Sixteen
Juliana
Adrián’s boisterous laugh bounces off the walls of the coffee shop we’re meeting at for breakfast. His buckskin jacket and scarf whip around when he charges me and plucks me up out of my chair.
Air squeezes from my lungs. “How’s mynena, eh?”
The cherry on top of this obnoxious greeting is the grind of knuckles rubbing rapidly on top my head.
I struggle in his hold. “Let me go, Adrián.Eres un imbécil!”
The laughter in his eyes greets my smile as he sets me on my feet. I’ve only seen him once since he’s been here, but like my other brothers and sister, I’ve missed him something fierce.
Nosy neighbors turn back to their meals as we take a seat, and I gesture to his full plate. “I got your favorite.”
Three over-easy eggs and a thick slab of French toast, just likePapá.
He taps the glass rim of the steaming mug beside it. “Ah, you even got the coffee right.”
My heart flutters with his approval. It’s second nature to revert toMamá’steachings. The men of the family are to be served first, then children—who usually have their grubby little mitts in the food beforehand—and finally, the women.
“Gracias, chiquita.” He reaches for my hand and squeezes.
“It’s really good to see you,” I say around a bite of toast.
I’ve always been fond of his long curly hair and the way the raven waves brush over his ears and brows.
“You haven’t visited in what feels like forever.”
A shadow passes over his face. “I’ve already heard enough fromMamá. I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”
His tone has my gaze shifting toward the floor. There was a time when nothing but love and laughter surrounded us. My heart aches with fractures that have run so deep and for so long between my siblings and parents.
“Do you remember when you and Isabel used to take me to the fair?”
He chews quietly. “I do.”
A faint smile touches my lips. “I went the other day, and I thought of you both. Do you remember when we used to rock the Ferris wheel car until Manuel would threaten to puke?” I snort, garnering a few stares as I pop the little wooden top off the Cholula sauce and drench my eggs.
His fork meets his plate with aclank. He grabs one of the napkins between us, then he lightly pats his mouth. “Nena, why do we always have to revisit the past?”
My voice goes soft. “Because we’re family. We’re not supposed to be separated this way.”
Adrián rolls his eyes. “Our parents made their choice when they shunned Manuel for getting out of here and making something of himself.”
I frown. “Can you honestly blame them? You all abandoned ship the second he left.”
He leans back, incredulous. “Don’t you dare lump me in withthem.”
Trying to keep my voice down, I lean across my plate. “You already had one foot out the door, and the second Isabel got accepted into Harvard, you disappeared. Just because you’re three hours away doesn’t excuse the fact that you left them here—” I pause, swallowing my anger.
You left me here,I want to say, but there’s no use.
“I understand their frustrations, but whose fault is it that our siblings forgot that we exist? What the rest of them do with their lives is no longer my concern, and it shouldn’t be yours either.”
“They didn’t forget,” I argue weakly, but a tiny part of me knows he’s right. As much as I love them, none of them have made the effort to stay in close contact or even visit.
“Ha! When was the last time you heard from them, hmm?” he says, his Spanish accent blurring his English.
