Page 65 of Sombra
Thirteen
Tavo - Cuevas
Before I can rip off Kim’s clothes, mi madre comes back into the kitchen, catching Kim with newly-mussed hair and swollen lips, and me wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and pressing up to the cabinet to once again hide my erection. Her glarewould skewer a lesser man, but I’m at the point where I’m not going to let her control me. I can’t. I love my mother, and I will help her sort out the problems from my father’s debt, but I can’t do what she wants in the matters of my heart, because if I do, I’ll be living a lie.
I’m nervous about the fallout, though, and have been searching for a way to take care of her. I’ve been Googlingways to make a lot of money fast. Real estate. Bitcoin. Multi Level Marketing. Investments. Online gambling. My heart sinks as the challenge mounts. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this. Somehow, some way, I’m going to make the money to save the farm.
Again, I know who to ask. As I stand trying to get my dick to retreat to normal size, I distract myself from Kim’sKim-nessby writingan email to my cousin on my phone.
De:Gustavo de la Guerra
Para: William Thrash
Fecha: 17 de septiembre
Asunto: Trouble
My esteemed cousin,Will,
Unfortunately, I was unable to take your advice. The woman in question has captured my heart. My body. My soul.
The problem is that my father mortgaged this farm to the neighbor before hedied. I do not want to be ungentlemanly. Allow me to say simply that their daughter has much more regard for me than I for her, and if I marry her, I will save my family from financial ruin. I cannot do this, because of the woman of my heart.
What do I do to save the orchard from this devastating, terrible loss?
Un abrazo,
Tavo
By the timeI’ve typed my messageout, my body’s relaxed, although a single touch from Kim would arouse me again faster than the bulls charge down the streets of Pamplona. I will myself to stay on the other side of the room while my mother instructs Kim—using curt words and jerky gestures—on the timing of cooking paella. I’m using the unspoken excuse that I’m busy sweeping the floor and taking out the trash for them as a reasonto observe them. Kim seems to know to hide her feelings from my mother and gives every impression of being the obedient and subservient exchange student rather than the knowing object of my lust.
I know my mother’s onto me—onto us—but I don’t care.
Because of Kim. Soft, sweeter than I’d imagined, more addictive, and unlike anyone I’ve ever known. Her cheerful spirit’s as fresh asthe sunrise on Ibiza and as fiery as thefallasin Valencia. She’s someone I’ve chosen because she connects with me on a deeper level than anyone else I’ve ever met. It’s not just that she dominates every pore of my body. She’s shaken me out of my stupor. Because of her, I see the world anew. She makes me forget all that I’m supposed to remember. She’s a respite from not only the crippling financialobligations of the farm, but also the expectations of my family.
But it’s not her function in the matrix of my life. It’s her.
I’m falling for her, and that frightens me, because I’m running off the map into territory with no guide. It sends me soaring, though, because she’s all I’ve ever wanted.
When it’s time for dinner, Kim is at my side,gracias a Dios, and she can’t sitclose enough. As I eat the delicious dinner she’s prepared under the tutelage of my mother, I’m noticing that while she’s cooked it traditional-style and followed directions, she’s put a dash of herself into it, making the cuisine new. An extra squeeze of lime instead of lemon in the paella. Fresh mint and honey with the carrots. Perhaps never having had the food before is an advantage, becauseshe brightens it up and reinvents it in subtle and profound ways. This is the kind of food she should showcase on her Instagram.
Everyone else at dinner disregards the seismic shift in my being. While my heart has been accepted by the woman of my dreams, my grandmother tells my grandfather off for eating something that will hurt his digestion. My mother lectures Antonio about studying moreand watching less television. I’m seeing them from a distance, and I now understand more how Kim felt coming here. Like she was breaking away from her routine and venturing out on her own.
Sneaking a kiss before Kim goes to bed is the best I can do for now. My mother’s just down the corridor with the light on under her door, talking to someone. I hurry back to my room and sleep, havingmuch better dreams than I’ve had in a long time.
The next Sunday afternoon,I drive Kim to Granada and luck out, securing a parking spot at the bottom of the old Moorish neighborhood called theAlbaicín. It’s her first time visiting this neighborhood, which is a touristattraction, but has its danger spots. Best that she go with a local, even during daylight hours.
I turn off the car, and she immediately asks, “Nowwill you tell me where we’re going?”
The entire drive here, Kim’s been about to burst, peppering me with questions about my secret plans for her, and I’ve been thoroughly enjoying her curiosity. And the withholding of information. Thistease, this play, is what I like. But knowing when to give into her, give her the satisfaction of knowledge, is also part of the joy.
“Come on. We’re going to visit a cave.” I open the car door.
Her slow smile builds, and she blinks. “A real cave? Like, in the ground?” We get out, and I come around to her, giving her a light kiss and tucking her under my arm. “Yes. People have livedin caves on the mountainside in Granada for thousands of years.”
“Still?”
I nod.
