Page 24 of Never Again
“Then I’m yours. Forever.” A beatific smile came to her face. “I better go to sleep. Good night,mi corazón.”
“Good night,mi amor.”
10
Carmen pulled into the circular driveway of her parents’ house, a mansion inside a gated community that rested on plenty of land in an exclusive neighborhood with excellent schools, such as the private school her brother and sister attended.
She parked her silver Range Rover, a tricked-out vehicle she received for her twenty-fifth birthday, one she’d appreciated at the time but now seemed ostentatious. Keeping in touch with Carlos made her more aware of the excesses in her life, and though he never gave any indication that he judged her, she often wondered what he thought about her lavish lifestyle.
Don’t call.
She physically ached to hear his voice, but since her return to Toronto, they’d talked every day—sometimes twice—once in the morning and again at night. She hadn’t heard from him today and knew he’d be busy tonight getting ready for an art show. She wished she could be there to support him, but she’d simply have to be patient and wait until tomorrow to hear his voice and find out how the event went.
Carmen entered her parents’ house. She’d moved out months after Carlos left Toronto, leaving behind her mother, father, and two younger siblings to finally live on her own. It had been scary at first but a necessity, a move she was glad she’d made for the sake of privacy as well as an opportunity to establish her own independence.
Her siblings were hanging out with friends this weekend, but Carmen knew her parents were at home because she’d called ahead. Since it was dinner time, Graciela was more than likely in the kitchen cooking, a task she took great pride in and a trait she’d passed down to Carmen.
As Carmen neared the kitchen, the sound of furtive whispering made her pause outside the door.
“She’s doing very well now, isn’t she?” Graciela asked in her accented voice. She’d lived in Toronto for many years, but her Cuban accent remained so thick some people had a hard time understanding her.
“Yes, I’m proud of her,” her father replied in an equally low tone.
“Then you have to tell her. She’s come a long way. You both have, to get to this point. She wants to make you proud.”
Her father grunted.
“Alfred,” Graciela said in a disapproving tone. Carmen imagined her mother placing a pacifying hand on his arm before returning to the task at hand.
“And how did that happen? Because that Carlos fellow is out of her life for good. Good riddance.”
Graciela tutted. “Be nice.”
“There was nothing nice about that kid. He wasn’t good enough for Carmen, just like that other loser she dated. Remember that guy, who had her spending money on him like she was some kind of sugar mama? I’m glad she finally came to her senses—on both counts—and look at her now. You’re right, she’s doing a great job at the office. The staff respects her, and she’s shown me and management that she can take her time and make sound decisions—not be impulsive.”
“Why do you keep saying she’s impulsive?”
“Because she is.”
“What you call impulsive, I call passionate,papi.”
“Passionate, sure. She let that guy get in her head. She planned to leave us—leave her legacy behind. If that’s not impulsive, I don’t know what is.”
“Why are you like this?”
“Like what? You know I’m right.”
“She was young and in love. You remember what that was like?”
“Remember? Of course. Now I’m an old man in love.” Her father muttered words Carmen couldn’t understand, but her mother did because she gasped his name and then gave a low chuckle.
That was the perfect time to enter the room. When she did, Carmen found her parents smooching—her mother standing before the cutting board with a knife in her hand, and her father standing beside her with a hand resting on her ass.
“Hey, tone it down, you guys,” Carmen joked, though the sight of them being affectionate filled her with sadness.
She’d always seen their open affection for each other growing up and viewed them as the ideal couple—an ideal she wanted for herself. She wanted a spouse who would love her hard and sacrifice the way her parents had sacrificed for each other. They were the standard.
Graciela put down the knife. “Hola, mija! It’s so good to see you.” She pulled Carmen into a hug and when she let go, looked her up and down.
