Read Lovestruck Forever Online
Authors: Rachel Schurig
“I
have a feeling your parents would have killed him if he hadn’t.”
I
grinned up at him. “You’re catching on fast. It’s
like you’re a part of the family already.”
“What
were you like?” he asked. “When you were a teenager?”
“All
shy and awkward with my nose always stuck in a book.”
“Your
nose is still always stuck in a book.”
I
stuck out my tongue at him and he leaned down close to whisper in my
ear. “But I would hardly call you awkward. Or shy. More like
beautiful and impossibly sexy.”
I
leaned into him and he took my hand, his other arm firmly across my
back. “I wish I had known you,” he said, starting to move
us around the room in a silent, private dance. “I wish I had
always known you.”
“You’ll
have to settle for knowing me for the rest of my life,” I
replied, letting him lead me.
“Is
this how we’ll dance at our wedding?” he asked.
“Hopefully
I won’t step on your toes the way I did with Carlos.”
His
soft laughter was interrupted by Sofie clearing her throat in the
doorway. “Food’s here,” she said. “You look
ridiculous, by the way.”
“We’re
practicing for the wedding,” Thomas shot back, and she made a
gagging noise.
“Whatever.
I’m going back to the table and pretending I don’t know
you.”
I
released Thomas, and he made a noise of mock-outrage. “You’re
ditching me on the dance floor?”
“Didn’t
you hear her?” I called over my shoulder as I made my way to
the door. “The food is here.”
He
sighed loudly, quickly catching up to me. “I should have known
not to attempt to come between you and food.”
I
smacked his bottom lightly, making him jump. “See? You
do
catch on fast.”
***
The
food was delicious, as always. The owner, Miguel, came over after
we’d been served to check in on us. “How is your mother?”
he asked me, holding my hand, a concerned look on his face.
“Much
better,” I told him. “She’s been working hard in
rehab, walking and talking almost like normal.”
“Oh,
good.” He looked visibly relieved—Miguel had known my
parents for years. “You’ll give her my love? And tell her
dinner’s on the house whenever she feels up to getting down
here.”
I
gave him a quick grin. “Knowing my dad, ‘dinner on the
house’ is all he’ll need to hear. They’ll probably
be down within the week.”
Miguel
laughed, releasing my hand. As he did, the diamond on my left ring
finger gleamed in the light, and I could see it catch his eye.
“Elizabeth, is that an engagement ring?”
I
ducked my head, feeling a little shy. “It is.” I gestured
to my left. “This is my fiancé, Thomas.”
Miguel
swooped down to kiss my cheek before grabbing Thomas’s hand in
both of his. “Congratulations! You’re a very lucky man.”
“I
am that,” Thomas agreed, smiling at me. From the corner of my
eye, I thought I saw Sofie look away, an unreadable expression on her
face.
Miguel
gushed over us for a few more minutes, telling Thomas that I’d
been coming into his restaurant since I was a tiny little thing in
braids, how I had celebrated my quince right here, and he had been
honored to host it. He finally left us to finish our meals before
they got cold, promising he would send over a celebratory dessert
later.
“You
say hi to your parents for me, too, Sofia,” he said before
leaving, patting Sofie on the shoulder. She smiled in return, but I
couldn’t help thinking it seemed forced.
“So,”
she said, her voice bright enough to make me think that perhaps I was
imagining that she’d been acting somewhat strange all day.
“Speaking of the engagement, when are you guys going to set a
date?”
Thomas
and I shared a glance. “We kind of did last night,” I
told her. “Now that Mama is feeling better and the party will
be out of the way, I think we’re ready to get going. We’re
thinking October.”
She
clapped her hands, all trace of tightness gone from her face now.
“October! That’s so soon! You better tell them about
London ASAP.”
I
sighed, the same frustration from last night filling my chest. “You
were right before. They probably won’t go for it.”
Sofie
shook her head, her expression much more bitter than the situation
seemed to call for. “It’s such crap. You should get to do
what you want—it’s your wedding.”
There
it was again, that same weirdness when our family was brought up. She
had said her mom was on her case—were they arguing more lately?
I knew Sofie was starting to hint about getting her own place. For
many families, that probably wouldn’t be a big deal—she
was twenty-four years old and had a decent job in a hospital billing
department. But in our family, it wasn’t exactly common for
girls to move away from home before they were married. Could that be
what was bothering her?
We
were interrupted by the waiter bringing the desserts that Miguel had
promised. Sofie quickly changed the subject to Thomas’s movie
career.
“I
haven’t had any good celebrity gossip in ages,” she said
pleadingly. “You need to get back out there, dude!”
A
thoughtful look came over his face—he almost looked wistful.
“You
know,” I realized aloud, “now that we’ve set a
date, you could totally start looking for your next project.”
He
turned to me, clearly surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well,
we haven’t really known what our schedule was going to be like,
right? That’s why you were holding off on looking for roles.
But now we know when the wedding will be and when the honeymoon will
be—won’t you want to start working after that?”
I
could tell from the eager expression in his eyes that he was
absolutely ready to start thinking about work. His expression made
perfectly clear the thing I had known these last few months in
Detroit—he had given up a lot to be here with me.
“I
don’t know,” he said, his tone much more cautious than
his expression. “We haven’t really talked about where
we’ll be after all of that. Won’t we want to get settled
into married life first?”
“We’ll
be wherever you need to be.” I hoped he could tell how serious
I was. “My mom doesn’t need me around every day anymore.
I figured once we were married, we’d just relocate to wherever
your next project was.”
He
couldn’t hide the excitement in his face at the prospect of
working again, but still he merely nodded. “We’ll see.”
“Well,
I for one am totally ready for you to start working again,”
Sofie said, grabbing her sopapilla and taking a huge bite. She
swallowed and smiled at him. “Lizzie said she’d take me
to the next premiere and find me a hot actor to hook up with.”
“Absolutely,”
I agreed, straight-faced. I found Thomas’s hand under the table
and squeezed. “So you better get to it, buddy.”
We
were all so full after lunch, we decided to walk for a bit before our
stops at the market and bakery. Sofie and I led Thomas down the busy
street toward the residential blocks beyond. When we passed a dress
shop, Sofie insisted we stop in front of the window display so she
could show Thomas the big, flouncy, crinoline- and tulle-filled
dresses. “Hers was a lot like that one,” she said,
pointing at a hot pink dress with a particularly large skirt.
“And
Sof’s was more like that one.” I pointed to a straighter,
slinkier dress in the back of the display. “But with twice the
number of crystals.”
“I’m
definitely going to need to see pictures of these.” Thomas slid
an arm around my waist and winked down at me.
We
continued down the street until the bustle of shops and pedestrians
had faded somewhat. “This was our Aunt Anita’s house,”
Sofie said, pointing at a tall, narrow house surrounded by a white
iron fence. The small, neat yard was filled with flowerpots and
several iconic statues of the Virgin Mary. “She moved out to
the suburbs a few years after our parents.”
“And
down there,” I pointed a few houses further, “was our
grandparents’ house. My parents moved us in there after our
abuela died.”
“Did
you live there?” he asked, peering down the street with
interest.
“Until
I was two.”
“Then
I want to see it.”
We
held hands, Sofie beside me, as we strolled down the block. It was
one of those interesting Detroit streets, full of history and charm
but only blocks from the more run-down areas. I had long ago grown
used to the contrasts of a neighborhood like this, of the carefully
maintained, proud houses on one street and the more rundown,
sometimes abandoned houses on the next.
“It
looks small,” I said, looking up at the house that my parents
and I had lived in for a brief time. “Hard to imagine us all
fitting in there.”
“Hard
to imagine us all fitting anywhere,” Sofie muttered.
“It’s
pretty,” Thomas said, his head tilted back to take in the
entire house. It was tall and narrow, like the houses on either side
of it. Like my aunt’s house, it had a low, white iron fence
surrounding the front yard, which was very neatly manicured. I looked
up at the bright yellow door, the lace curtains on the windows. So
much of it was exactly the way I remembered.
“It
was such a big deal for them,” I said, shaking my head. “Moving
out to the suburbs. It was like they were really moving up in the
world.”
Sofie
snorted, thinking, I was sure, about the sleepy little suburb we had
grown up in. “That’s us, living the high life,” she
said.
“They
worked hard to get there,” Thomas said. “To provide more
for the lot of you.”
I
looked down the street, wondering how my life would have been
different if we had stayed in the city. I still would have had the
constant family presence, maybe even worse if we’d all lived
within mere blocks of each other, instead of miles. And I probably
would have had more classmates that looked like me, as opposed to the
predominately white schools I had attended. Other than that, I wasn’t
sure what would have changed. Less room, I guessed. But the same
love, the same lessons about family and loyalty and self-reliance.
They
really do love you
, I
thought to myself. Everything Sofie said about the wedding was
probably true—they’d make a huge deal out of everything
and try to make all the decisions for me. But they would do that
because they would want me to have the perfect wedding. They’d
want the whole family to be there, to celebrate with us. Because, no
matter how annoying they could be, nothing was more important to them
than family. Than love.
Maybe
they’ll be okay with London
,
I thought.
They want me
to be happy and have the wedding of my dreams. Maybe if I can show
them London is what I truly want, they’ll be okay.
Sofie
interrupted my musing. “We should get going.” She pulled
out her phone to peer down at the clock on the screen. “Maria
gave me a giant list of things to pick up.”
So
we ambled back toward the market where Sofie could check things off
her list. Spices, dried peppers, horchata mix. Everything my sisters
and cousins needed to create a delicious meal for dozens of people.
While Sofie shopped, I picked up a few bottles of Manzana Lift, my
favorite imported soda, for us to enjoy on the way home. I found
Thomas standing in front of a candy display.
“I
don’t know what half of these are,” he admitted.
“This
is good.” I pointed at a rose-shaped candy wrapped in clear
plastic. “Mazapan. This one is different. It’s called
tamarind. It’s hard to describe, there isn’t really an
anglo candy like it. A little spicy, I guess.”
Thomas
picked up several of each of the candies I pointed out, as well as a
few more brightly colored wrappers that must have looked interesting
to him. I grabbed the lot and headed to the register with the apple
sodas. I finished paying for everything right as Sofie approached the
counter, her basket full of items.
“You
weren’t joking about that list,” I muttered, reaching for
the basket.
“Don’t
even think about it,” she said, plopping it down in front of
the register. “This is coming from the party budget.”
I
held up my hands. “Be my guest.”
Thomas
was leaning against the counter, ripping open the wrapper on his
tamarind. I watched as he examined the flat, chewy piece of candy
before shrugging slightly and ripping a bite off with his teeth. He
chewed for a minute, his expression going from curious to horrified.
“What
is
this?” He cried, grimacing.
“I
told you it was different,” I reminded him, struggling not to
giggle. He shook his head in disgust.
“What’d
you give him?” Sof asked, turning away from her conversation
with the clerk.
“Tamarind.”
She
snickered. “Did you
warn
him?”
“Of
course.” I used the bottle opener on the end of the counter to
pop the top from his soda, handing it to him and swiping the tamarind
from his other hand.
“Here,
you’ll like this.”
“I
don’t know if I trust you anymore,” he muttered, but he
took the bottle and gulped down a long swallow.
“I
told you it was hard to describe,” I reminded him as he wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand.
“In
the future, I’ll remember ‘hard to describe’ means
terrible.”
“Oh,
it’s not terrible.” To prove my point, I shoved the rest
of the candy in my mouth, chewing happily. “You’re just a
baby,” I mumbled through a full mouth of the sticky candy.
He
stuck out his tongue at me. “Candy should be sweet.”
Sofie
finished paying for her purchases, and we waved goodbye to the store
clerk. Thomas, ever the gentleman, took her bags from her.