Down to the Bone (32 page)

Just my type of girl.

She asks me questions about my life. I tell her the important things that have happened to me from the day of the Incident, until this very moment, including my whirlwind, two-hour affair with Marlena, whom I still care about dearly but am no longer interested in rekindling our relationship.

“I’ve only been in love once, with Marlena, and we were both closeted. I don’t know anything about being an out lesbian, or dating gay girls. From now on, I’m just doing what feels right for me.” In the sand, I sketch her bushy wild locks flying about her head.

The sun starts to dip slowly into the horizon. Streaks of reds and pinks splash the sky. I press my lips against hers as the orange sun plunges into the sea.

Cozying up next to her, with our arms wrapped around each other, I feel all my pain and confusion melt away. I love holding Gisela in my arms, with her spicy scent around me.

We go into a much deeper kiss as I caress her face. Her kisses float me toward the water, where we’re two waves, crashing as one. Now that I’ve found her, and she feels the same about me, I hope we can make it work.

Her mouth lands on my closed eyes for sweet kisses on my eyelids. “That was the greatest, most delicious kiss of my life.”

I smile. “You’re the best kisser in the history of the world.”

“No. You are. I could make out with you all day and all night long until we both die. Do you believe in karma?” she asks.

“No. It makes no sense that some kids are suffering and dying, and serial killers are on the loose living a grand life. It’s criminal to take vengeance on victims now, for crimes they don’t even know they’ve committed in their past lives.”

“Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?”

“Only for
ob
vious reasons. If you stick your foot in fire, it’ll burn to a crisp. I believe we met because Soli, you and I, made it happen.”

“You’re a cynic and a free thinker. Just like me. I love that.” She gives me a moist kiss on the lips. “I believe life is unpredictable, but it seems to be on our side right now.”

I’ve never heard more beautiful words. I gaze into her eyes. Everything about her moves me. It’s so true. Who’d have known life would bring us together?

Something comes over me. I feel as if I’ve finally taken off a tight iron mask and chest shield I’ve been wearing this year. The feeling of freedom is overwhelming; it makes tears pour out of my eyes.

Her lips catch the drops dripping down my cheeks. “You okay?”

“Yes.” I wipe my eyes with my hands. “Just tears of bottled-up happiness.”

The puzzle pieces of me haven’t yet been put back together, but who can say they’re whole and complete? I feel different, though, a bit happier. It’s not about her; it’s about finally letting go of the fear that didn’t allow me to try to get to who I am: a good person, worthy of acceptance and love.

The day has turned into night. She holds me close and I breathe in her rainforest smell. Our faces are so close our noses touch. “I want to stay here forever, Gisela. This is our spot. It’s got the memory of our first kiss.”

We kiss and talk till three in the morning. “Viva’s texted me ten times. She’s worried. I’ve got to go,” I explain and she understands.

We walk hand in hand on the cool sand, leaving behind our footprints to be washed away by the frothy waves.

We get to the parking lot and arrive at her hybrid car. She pushes my hair back behind my ears and fills my entire face with gentle kisses. I do the same. She tells me, “Let’s get together again tomorrow.”

Before I climb into her car, I say, “Tomorrow is ours.” Her eyes gleam. “If it works, who knows? Maybe the following day will be ours too.”

22—Gay Marriage?

It’s December seventh, my birthday! I’ve been seeing Gisela for two weeks. When Soli called from Key West to find out juice, I told her about my breakup with London and lovemaking with Marlena. I didn’t mention dating Gisela. I’d like to surprise her.

Gisela turned up at my place with a gift: an Italian film collection DVD set. I ran with her to buy myself a birthday present with the money I’ve been saving from landscaping: a 1982 mustard-colored, tiny retro convertible. I bought it cheap from a ninety-year-old wealthy environmentalist engineer who gutted it, made it like new, and turned it into an electric car.

Mami called to wish me a happy birthday. The day after I broke it off with London I told her about it. She screamed a bit, but calmed down quickly and said, “That eliminates your chances of moving in here any time soon. But maybe . . . ahhh . . . well . . . we’ll see. I’ll figure something out.”

I didn’t ask what she meant by that weird remark. We haven’t talked about it since, but today she said I needed to be over her house at five p.m., before dinner. I let her know I also had a surprise for her.

My mom’s front door is open and I let myself in. I sniff the air and it smells like Pedri’s favorite orange gelatin. There’s nothing like the scent of a little brother’s love all around you.

I sit on top of her kitchen table, crossing and uncrossing my legs, drumming on the marble counter with the palms of my hands, tips of my fingers and knuckles, waiting for Mami to come out of the shower. I wonder what the surprise will be, but I sure can’t wait to tell her mine. When a mother kicks you out of her heart so you can find safety, care and security on your own, you’re forced to either make things work or you become broken. I’m trying to make it work, but I can’t say I’m in one piece. I look around me. I’ve hardened but still feel the need to be accepted and loved by her. Feeling like an outsider whose mom doesn’t feel you belong with her is the most difficult thing to deal with. I need her to love me unconditionally, is that too much to ask?

She rushes out of the bathroom in a silky aqua dress, dangling diamond earrings, pointy high-heeled shoes, her face drenched in makeup and her neck filled with talcum powder.

She spreads her arms around me and for a moment, we’re both teary eyed. “
Te quiero,
hija.
Felicidades
.” She hands me two thousand dollars in one-hundred-dollar bills. “Woah! Thanks Mami!” I stuff them in my jeans pocket. “I really needed this.” I can’t
wait
to surprise Viva behind her back. I’ll go straight to the landlord to pay our rent because she never lets me pay a cent. Then, I’ll fill the fridge with food she and Soli love and pay all our pending bills.

My mom runs around nervously, making sure everything in her house is in perfect shape. “Silvina’s son, Tony,” she’s out of breath, “the one who looks
exactly
like
Jesucristo
, is coming over to meet you, now that you’re available. He’s a lot handsomer than London. That’s your surprise. I want you to date him and make him fall for you so one day he’ll marry you and you’ll bring a good name back to our family.”

“
What?
” My heart drops flat on the ground. I should have known better.

She sprays me with perfume.

“Yuk!” I grab the bottle and jump down from the table, coughing, running as fast as I can into the living room, away from the scent. Mami knows the petrochemicals in perfume makes me nauseous, but she doesn’t care. I open the sliding glass doors for a breath of fresh air. I turn my neck to face her. “Are you insane about me dating and marrying a guy I don’t even know?”

“Close those doors!” she yells from the pantry. “The neighbors!” I slide them shut.

“You’ve totally lost it!” I’ve got my hands on my hips, watching her searching the cupboards for María cookies.

She finds them at the very end of the shelf and lets out a sigh of relief. “
Ay, gracias a Dios
.” Then she’s in my face. “You like seed-eating vegetarians and those strange environmentalists. He’s got long blond hair and blue eyes. Your children will be blond with light eyes. I got married with your father at sixteen.” She pushes me aside. “I got lucky with Jaime.”

I dump the perfume bottle in the trash when she’s not noticing. She plops onto her embroidered sofa with the María cookies on her lap and sews cuffs on Jaime’s pants. The tiny glasses on the tip of her nose make her look freaky.

“You’re nuts.” I open the sliding doors wide and stand outside, looking down at the bay. It’s pretty peaceful and quiet out, but I feel chaotic inside. My heart always hurts when I’m around her. That’s not right. A mother is supposed to love her children no matter what.

She swallows the first cookie practically whole. “You know it’s not healthy for a girl to not want to date boys. What are you going to do, live with those two females all your life now that you broke up with London?” She stuffs another cookie in her mouth and keeps stitching without looking up.

“Yes. I’ll live with Soli and Viva for the rest of my life. At least
they
love me.”

She sticks the needle inside the cuff of the pants, throws them on the couch, takes off her glasses, places them on the coffee table, and storms off to the fridge. I follow her.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t changed even after having had a boyfriend.” She wags her head in disgust. “
Ay, mi madre,
you’re going to kill me.” The fridge door is open. She’s picking at leftover
fricasé de pollo
bones, sucking out the marrow, and drinking orange juice straight from the carton.

Just as I’m about to tell her that yes, I
have
changed, but not in the way she wants me to, the doorbell rings and I freeze. She washes her hands in a fury and runs to answer the door. I feel like leaping out of the balcony into the bay to swim back home.

In comes a husky blond with icy blue eyes, dressed in a dark blue Italian suit, wearing a long ponytail. Mami plants a kiss on his cheek. “He’s studying to be a brain surgeon, just like his father. Isn’t he the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen, Shai? Didn’t I tell you he looks
exactly
like
Jesucristo
? Didn’t I?”

“Jesucristo probably had dark hair, skin and eyes, Mami.”

“
Uy, chica.
You don’t know anything.”

Tony shakes my hand. Mami makes a mad rush to the fridge to bring him the
flan
she made for him. He accepts, eats it standing up, and raves, “
Qué delicioso
. You should open your own bakery.” Mami’s cheeks are flushed so rosy, you’d think she just climbed Mt. Rushmore. She hands him a pink
limonada
with a thin slice of lemon. “You’re such an incredible host.”

Mami leaves us alone, saying, “I’ve got to finish sewing Jaime’s pants.” Her beach ball butt disappears into the den.

We sit across from each other in the living room, talking about the weather.

He finishes his
limonada
, places it on the coffee table, scoots forward on the couch, and whispers, “Listen. I’ll get to the point. I’m gay too. That’s why I’m here.”

“What?”

“Shhh. Let’s go out on the balcony. I don’t want your mom to hear what I’m about to say.”

We’re on the terrace, looking at the smooth, peaceful waves of the bay. He scoots over to me. “No one knows about me; they think I’m straight. If you want, we can act the part. We’ll get married. I’ll have my private life; you’ll have yours.”

I scratch my head. “I can’t do that.”

He changes the subject. “Hell, Shai, you don’t look gay at all. You aren’t like those plastic gay girls trying to look straight. You’re beautiful. I imagined a butch dyke with buzzed hair and a mustache.” He moves even closer. I can smell his sweet lemonade breath. “I would have never guessed.” He grins. “We’d make a gorgeous couple.” We laugh.

“I was expecting a straight macho guy who’d be making passes at me. Snap, girl. How come no one’s ever found out about you? My mom thinks you’re God’s gift to girls.” He’s definitely a hunk.

He squeezes his right arm muscle with his left hand. “No one knows I’m gay because I’ve had a girlfriend for four years and my boyfriend is a closeted married doctor.”

I bite my thumbnail and spit it out. “Does your girlfriend know?”

“It’s a cover-up. She’s lesbian. The problem is that her new partner is supremely jealous and demanding of her time. Suddenly, she can’t go out with me anymore.”

We’re leaning on our arms on the veranda railing. He comes so close our clasped hands touch. I bite my upper lip. “How did you know I like girls?”

“
Uy, mijita,
rumors spread quickly. Everyone in Miami knows.” He lets loose and gets all queeny. In a high voice with a lisp, and with a bent wrist he whispers, “
Uy, chica
, I’ll tell my parenths I’ve fallen deeply, passionately in love with you and I turned you thraight. All those thtupid friends of our parents will love that I’ve transformed you into a dignified hetero. We can walk the threets holding hands and people will treat you with rethpect.”

I belt out a laugh. If Mami saw him she’d fly off the veranda to her death.

He clears his lisp and puts on a serious tone.

“Actually, the truth is, if we don’t act as if we’re together and one day in the future get married, Shai, we’re doomed to live a miserable, empty life. People who matter, like professionals, will always point fingers at us. They’ll never stop saying horrible things behind our backs. We’ll never be respected like the straights.”

I search the sky without answering him. I remember London and what I did to him. If I could take it all back, I would. I shake memories of him and prepare to speak my mind.

I grab my hair with both hands and face him. “That’s exactly why we need to tell everyone about us. The more people get to know us, the more they’ll respect us. We’re everywhere. If an ER doctor is an ‘out’ lesbo, will a dying homophobic person stop her from giving him the immediate care he needs? I don’t think so. If the lesbian doctor saves his life, he’ll have more respect for gays. Anyhow, I tried being straight, and I hurt someone really badly. I’ll never do that again. We can’t let people keep hating us. We need to be in their lives and prove to them they’re wrong.”

“I wish I could be as strong as you.” He blinks a few times with such tenderness I feel like hugging him. I come closer to him. He puts his arms around me and hugs me tightly.