Page 21 of Sweet Little Lies
My reassuring pat on her chubby hand seems to do the trick and she resumes her play. But then I hazard a look back at Mica, and I don’t get the same offer of forgiveness.
She drops the baby on his butt and he scoots over like a tiny Godzilla to demolish part of the sand castle Amelia has been working on, which Amelia tries to thwart with a high-pitched, “no, no little brother” and a wave of her hand.
When Mica finally sits down next to me, I feel the distance; like an ocean between us that I’ve created with my anger and hostile question. Even though she’s mere inches away from me.
“Why would you ask that, Lance? You know I don’t have a boyfriend. Because if I did, I wouldn’t be…” she shakes her head, her hand reaching up to wipe some sand off her face.
She’s misses a few grains, and I assist her with a brush of my fingertips to her cheek.
“You wouldn’t be what?”
Instead of moving my hand away, I keep it there, and she instinctively leans into my palm. Her face is warm and flushed from the water activity and the heat of the summer sun.
“Here with you,” she says, closing her eyes, her lashes fanning out across her sun-kissed cheeks.
It’s time to grovel. “I’m sorry, Georgie. Amelia mentioned someone named Alberto. Said she’s seen you kiss him and that you’re going to marry him.”
She gasps slightly and her eyes pop open in alarm, her face tensing under my gentle pressure. She allows my thumb to stroke her cheek – the softness of her skin generates a heat so strong up my arm it’s almostmercurial[SH2].
“She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t understand anything. You might not either.”
Mica’s deep brown eyes – so trusting and loyal – blink at me with an expression I can’t quite read. Regret. Guilt. Something else that seems to cause the frown at the edge of her mouth. A mouth I’ve touched with my own lips. Devoured until I felt I was going crazy with lust. Kissed as I fantasized about what it would feel like to get lost inside her. Drown my own pain and anguish in her beauty and sweetness.
I drop my hand, picking up a shovel and mindlessly scooping sand around the baby’s feet, who giggles and wiggles his tiny little toes, kicking his legs excitedly.
“What does that mean? What wouldn’t I understand?”
Mica turns her head out toward the lake, presumably either to avoid my eye contact or to keep tabs on Alvi who’s made friends with a few other kids and is playing by the water’s edge.
“My parents…mypapi…are very traditional.”
When she returns her gaze to me, her lips are pursed in a tight expression.
“It’s important to him that I marry someone who is Mexican.”
Married? The word spins in my head like a tornado of confusion. Mica’s only twenty. She’s got two more years of nursing school before she’s graduated. I can’t imagine that she’s ready for marriage.
“So, this guy, Alberto, is like your fiancé or something?” I swallow back my jealousy and anger over the fact that someone else has a claim to her.
Her laugh does little to alleviate the pressure building behind my eyes. I wish I had a cold beer with me to douse the heavy ache in my chest. Or some pills to smooth out the edges of my bitterness that bites deep into my stomach.
“No, Lance. I’m not engaged to Alberto and he’s not my boyfriend. But if my parents had their way, he would be. In fact, they are torn between pride and irritation that I’m in college right now. I come from a very traditional family and it’s just natural that I would marry someone and begin a family soon. I had to fight tooth and nail to make them understand why my scholarship and attending nursing school at ASU was so important to me. No one else in my family has ever gone to school, except my cousin Juan who attended a technical college. And to make matters worse, because I’m a girl, there’s an antiquated expectation that I marry and have babies as soon as possible.”
My hand stops playing in the sand – the warmth between my fingers a physical mirror of the warmth from Mica’s voice.
“Okay, but what does that mean? Do you like this guy? Will you end up marrying him after you graduate? Help me out here, Georgie. I’m at a loss.”
Something deep inside my chest begs her to say no. To tell me there’s nothing about this guy that she likes. That all she wants is to someday be with me. To bemygirl. To wake up in my arms in my bed on some future-dated Sunday morning after a night of crazy fucking, where we lazily draw circles on each other’s backs, our touches igniting the heat once again as we cling to one another.
God, I’m a fucking pussy.
Mica shakes her head and the exhale, letting go of those worries and inhaling relief.
“Alberto is a long-time family friend. He also employs my dad and my older brother, Carlos and my brother, Mateo. He’s been around my family for years and is kind of like another cousin. He’s much older than me and my dad thinks he’d be a perfect addition to our family. But I don’t and won’t. I don’t feel for him the same way I feel for…”
Our eyes snap together to hold the other’s gaze. I see everything she isn’t saying to me. All the secrets she’s kept hidden over the last year as it pertains to me and to our friendship. They mirror my own feelings.
It’s a potent alchemy of attraction that bonds us together. One that can’t be easily replaced or broken. One that I want nothing more than to commit to for the long-haul.
