Inner Diva

Excerpt

Taken from ... Chapter One 

Despite the stressful dash across town, Monica broke land-speed records getting to the neighborhood of Senora Josefina Garcia on the west side of St. Louis.  She arrived only seventeen minutes behind schedule, her car and her person intact.  She hated to start off on the wrong foot for this first meeting together, when she was volunteering for a job as a positive role model.  But hopefully Mrs. Garcia would give her a chance to make up for it.

She parked in front of the tiny bungalow-style house and dashed up the front steps, her breath coming in nervous pants.  The door snatched open, revealing a short, somewhat chubby woman.  Her dark hair, slightly graying, was pulled back with a thick barrette and she wore the unmistakable brown and gold polyester of a fast food restaurant uniform.

“Que tarde!  Dios mio.”  The woman waved her inside.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.  You see, …”  But Mrs. Garcia made a sharp tsk-tsking  sound, effectively cutting off any further explanation.

“Five thirty.  You say five thirty, right?” 

“Yes, I’m sorry.  I got held up.  I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”  Monica glanced around the tiny living room – cluttered with furniture but clean and tidy.

“I don’t have time now.   I late for my second job.”

During this first meeting, they were supposed to cover what Mrs. Garcia expected of Monica in her relationship with her daughter, as well as what Monica expected of Mrs. Garcia.  Then, if they were on the same page, Mrs. Garcia would introduce her to Luisa.

“I understand,” Monica said, anger stoking, directed at her mother and sister.  “Do we need to reschedule our meeting?  I swear I won’t be late again.”

“No no.”  Mrs. Garcia shook her head fiercely.  “I don’t have another night.  You must meet Luisa.  But you need to talk to an adult from the family first, yes?”

Monica nodded.  “Yes, that’s the program.  But I understood Luisa doesn’t have a father, is that correct?”

“No, no papa,” Mrs. Garcia replied, shaking her head sadly.  “My Pablo, gone.”

“I’m sorry.” 

She waved the sympathy away.  “So you must talk to Carlos.  I call him.”  And she did, loudly, “Carlos!”

Monica looked around the room expectantly. 

“Carlos!  Venga aqui!”  Mrs. Garcia checked her watch and began shuffling around the room, collecting her purse and a big canvas bag.  A sound from the kitchen doorway made Monica turn her head and her breath caught in her throat.  A man entered the room.  The cliché, “tall, dark and handsome” flashed through her mind.  So this was the man who had inspired that tired phrase.  It had never held much meaning for her before – until it came to life today. 

He was dressed in worn jeans, frayed around the pockets, Monica imagined, from the thousands of times he had thrust his big, powerful hands into their depths.  Hands he was currently wiping on a greasy white cloth, as if he’d just been called in from some dirty, sweaty, manly work. 

He wore a black sleeveless muscle shirt, which did an excellent job of revealing his brawny shoulders and arms.  His thick dark hair framed a face complete with sculpted cheekbones and the most intense mocha brown eyes she’d ever encountered.

She loathed the heat that washed over her face, because she knew her skin was blushing along with it, all the way down her neck.  She gave herself a mental toe-stomping and tore her gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes. 

 “Carlos, mira.  Tienes que hablar …”

“In English, Mama.”  Carlos shook his head at her.  “You know you have to practice.”

“Ay!”  Mrs. Garcia spit out.  “I’m running late and I don’t have time for this nonsense.  Listen to me.  You must talk to this young woman for me.”

Carlos looked in her direction and gave her a nod of his head in greeting.  A heart-stopping smile followed and Monica felt the heat begin its travels again.

“She is to be Luisa’s Big Sister.”

Carlos shook his head, his face now clouded with confusion.  “What?”

Mrs. Garcia turned and shuffled to the door.  He followed, bending closer to her.  His words became quieter as he spoke in Spanish.  Monica turned her back to them, giving them privacy.  Although she couldn’t understand the words they were exchanging, she couldn’t mistake the tone.  Carlos didn’t know she was coming.  And from the sounds of it, he wasn’t inclined to welcome her with open arms.

Monica had often felt invisible around her sister Barbie, and although she generally hated the sensation, now she would prefer it to standing there in the room, a third party knowing that one of the child’s family members didn’t want her there.

The door closed and the conversation stopped.  Monica turned to see that Mrs. Garcia had left.  Carlos stood by the door, his chiseled arms even more defined as he crossed them in front of his chest.  He ran a hand over his chin and lips, a picture of a man normally in charge, now unsure of how to proceed.

A silent moment passed while Monica determined her plan of action.  Becoming a Big Sister was something she’d thought long and hard about.  She wanted desperately to have a positive impact on someone.  She wanted to help and guide someone less fortunate.  And she’d love to show her sister and her mother that there was a greater purpose in her life. 

She took a few tentative steps in Carlos’ direction.  “Excuse me.”

He aimed those gorgeous, albeit stormy, light brown eyes at her.  “Yes.  I’m sorry.  My mother hadn’t told me about your appointment.  If she had, I could have saved you the trip over.”

Monica nodded.  “Your mother applied to Big Brothers/Big Sisters for an adult companion for Luisa.  I was assigned.  I’m supposed to meet with the family about expectations.  That’s how it starts.” 

He stared motionless, then he walked toward her, stopping a hand-breadth away.   “Yes, she filled me in before she left.  But my mother is mistaken.  Luisa doesn’t need a Big Sister.”

Monica frowned.  Maybe he wasn’t familiar with the program.  Once he knew how helpful the organization was, and what positive things could come out of the time she and Luisa would spend together, there’s no way he could object.  “A Big Sister is simply an adult female role model to help enhance her schooling and social network.  I would help her with homework, reinforce her learning, take her to plays, movies.  How does that sound?”

 He ignored the question, but shook his head.  They stood so close to each other that when she inhaled she took in his aroma – a clean soap smell combined with the tartness of oil.  He looked down, his jet-black hair falling over his forehead, and for a moment hid his eyes from her view.

“Could I meet Luisa?”

But the words were barely out of her mouth when he chopped them off with his own, “No.”

“Why?”

Carlos turned his back and interested himself with a figurine sitting on a nearby table.

Monica sighed, unsure of what to do.  They were at an impasse, and without Mrs. Garcia, she could see she’d make no headway with this protective older brother.  Despite Mrs. Garcia’s insistence that she didn’t have another free night, she would have to try to reschedule the meeting.  She looked at Carlos and shrugged a single shoulder.  “All right then.  Thank you for your time.”

She slipped past him and returned to her car.  He stood leaning a muscled arm against the doorjamb, watching her drive away.  She gripped the steering wheel, her mind focused on the challenges ahead.  Somehow, she had to clear the obstacles in the Garcia family so she could provide a positive role model for Luisa.  First, she must figure out how to get around a dark, stormy and totally gorgeous hermano.