Teaching Roman (19 page)

“I told you. For moral support,” I repeated.

“When my ex’s grandma died, I gave him a card,” Lil said. “You’re running off to Mexico.”

I practically bit my tongue off trying to hold back what I wanted to say about that. The operative word in Lil’s example was
ex
. I didn’t say it, but not because I wasn’t feeling bitchy or defensive. I didn’t say it because I had no business being judgmental about my sister’s relationship with her ex-boyfriend. Not at the moment.

“You don’t want me to go,” I said.

“It doesn’t really matter. I can’t stop you. If I wanted to stop you, I would never have agreed to pick you up and take you to the airport. You have to make your own decisions when it comes to your relationship with him.”

I knew that. Just like I knew that jumping on a plane to be with my ex when his Aba died sounded crazy. If I had heard someone else say they were doing this, I would have rolled my eyes. But it made sense in a way I couldn’t explain.

“You’re a grown-up, Jess,” my sister continued. Her fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel. It was abnormally nervous of her. “I’m trying very hard to keep that in mind, because part of me wants to tell you no and send you to the corner.”

“But you can’t.”

“No, I can’t. Whatever you do, promise me one thing, okay?”

I nodded slowly, unsure what I was getting myself into and hoping she wasn’t going to lecture me on sex again.

“Listen to your heart.” Lil’s voice cracked.

It was the last thing I expected her to make me promise. Lil wasn’t exactly a follow your heart type unless you counted following your heart to a ‘not guilty’ verdict in the court room. Even then, practicing law didn’t seem to make her very happy. She was simply good at it.

“This is going to sound like the beginning of a sad romance novel about a modern spinster,” she said, “but I gave up love for my career.”

“Lil, you’re only twenty-six,” I reminded her.

She shrugged, her eyes now glued to the road as though she didn’t dare look at me. “Believe me, I threw away my one chance at love. At a family. If your heart tells you to go after Roman, then I want you to trust that, because if you don’t you’ll wind up working every waking moment of the day so you can cope with the loneliness.”

I couldn’t find the words to comfort her or reassure her, even though I sensed she was on the verge of tears. Comforting people was supposed to be my speciality. After all, I was the one with the bedside manner, but when it came to my big sister, the thought of her not being in control of her life scared me too much. I had joked about Lil being married to her work before, but I’d never considered why.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I managed to push the question out despite the awkward silence hanging between us in the car.

“You don’t need to hear my sad story,” she said, forcing a smile across tight lips. “You only need to not make the mistake that I did. You love Roman. The big sister in me wants to protect you from getting hurt, but the woman in me knows it will hurt you more in the long run if you lose your chance with him.”

Reaching over she grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Trust me on this.”

“I will,” I said.

“So you do love him?” she asked me.

“I do. I thought I was over him, but...” I hesitated, still not certain how to explain it to my sister.

“But some guys you never get over,” she finished for me.

“Yeah.” I readjusted my ponytail. “I’ve made a list of all the reasons I should never speak to him again.”

“Your heart doesn’t care about pro and con lists.”

“I guess that’s why I’m going to Mexico.”

Lil nodded and released my hand, returning to a perfect driving position. “Viva el amor.”

––––––––

B
y the time we got to SeaTac in rush hour traffic, I only had forty-five minutes to get through security and make my flight. Thankfully Cassie had packed my carry-on with the precision only an OCD fashion nut can muster. Unzipping my bag I discovered neat stacks of clothing, a small selection of socks, two pairs of shoes, and my liquids separated into a TSA approved plastic baggy. The next time I ran off to a foreign country at the last minute, she was definitely packing for me. Of course, with everything neatly separated and ready to go, my wait time in line was spent obsessing over how to reach Roman. His phone was still going to voicemail, which meant he was probably in the air. I could only hope I got there in time. I hated the thought of him facing Aba’s death alone.

Behind me, people moved over to allow someone to pass them. I turned my head before the stranger could ask me to let him through. I had somewhere important to be, too.

“Excuse me...Jessica?”

If it was biologically possible for a heart to skip a beat without an underlying medical condition, which it isn’t, mine did in that moment.

I turned to face Roman, hoping that all the suave lines I’d been coming up with in my head while I waited wouldn’t fail me. They did. Instead of sounding calm and reasonable, I word-vomited all over him. “I know about Aba. I’m going to Mexico. My liquids are in a baggy. And I’m sorry about—well, everything. I know you were thinking of me.”

“Jess—”

But I couldn’t stop myself. “And I’ll always choose you, too.”

Roman dropped his suitcase and lifted me into his arms before I could process that I’d spilled my guts to him in front of a huge crowd of travelers.

“I love you, Jessica Stone,” he said, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

My feet kicked in the air with joy, an involuntary reaction to the most romantic gesture of my life. My heart was definitely beating irregularly now as I lowered my mouth to his. I was vaguely aware of clapping and cheers from the onlookers around us, but they faded into the background when our lips met. Something clicked into place, something I didn’t even know was still broken. Happiness spread through my chest with such force that it physically hurt. How could I have ever thought I could live without him?

We were interrupted by a polite cough. Looking up, we realized the line had kept moving and we were backing up the entire checkpoint. Roman set me back on my feet and we gathered our things in a frenzy. This time I wasn’t stopped for trembling by the TSA. They only gave us a bemused smile, although the man overseeing the x-ray machine winked at Roman.

“What flight are you on?” he asked, checking my boarding pass.“Same flight.”

“S Gate then. We have to haul ass.” I was suddenly grateful Jills had talked me into wearing TOMS. My foot beat a nervous rhythm as Roman stopped to tie his sneakers.

“And you’re eloquent, too.” Roman pecked me on the mouth and grabbing my hand, we ran for it.

“Need...to do...more cardio,” I panted out as we ran.

“I can help you with that,” Roman said without so much as a gasp for air. He probably could help whip me into shape and I was pretty sure I’d like how he would do it.

We stumbled into the south train as the doors were sliding shut. I’d never been so thankful for a means of transit before. Roman held onto a pole, wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me close to him.

“Why are you here?” It wasn’t really the question he was asking. I’d already answered that.

“Because this is where I belong,” I whispered.

“Thank god, you realized that,” he said in a low voice.

I pressed closer to him, turning my face up to his, desperate to feel the light brush of his stubble on my cheek and to taste him on my lips, but the train jerked to a stop. We broke apart and ran for it again. By merciful chance, the gate was on the near end of the terminal. I skidded to a stop next to Roman, just as he began to laugh.

“Delayed,” he said. “We have at least twenty minutes.”

My eyes flew up to the monitor. He was right. “I ran for nothing.”

“And survived,” he said.

“I totally deserve a drink.”

“You deserve a lot more than that and I’m going to make sure you always get what you deserve from now on.”

I reached out and hooked my fingers over the waist of his jeans, drawing him to me. “That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s not,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s a promise.”

T
he flight was overbooked, so we spent it in separate aisles. I tried to distract myself with the magazines that Cassie had thoughtfully thrown in my purse, but mostly I obsessed over Roman: how he was feeling, whether or not he really wanted me here with him, when I would get to be alone with him. That inevitably led to me feeling guilty for being more focused on our relationship than on Aba’s condition.

But all my doubts and insecurities vanished when I found him waiting for me at the top of the jet bridge. His face said everything I needed to hear to calm my fears. We were in this together, and we both finally realized it.

There was no time to stop at the hotel that Cassie had arranged for me. Instead we headed straight to the hospital. Roman hadn’t received any more messages from the doctor, so we could only hope she was still hanging on. The halls of the hospital squeaked against our shoes, and there was a faint smell of bleach in the air. Most people felt uncomfortable in hospitals, but not me. I belonged here. But for the first time since my dad died I felt nervous as a man in a white lab coat crossed to greet us at the door to Aba’s room. Thanks to my studiousness I understood bits of what he was saying, including the fact that visitors to this unit were limited to family only.

I pulled my hand from Roman’s, giving him a reassuring smile. He needed to be with Aba right now. “I’ll wait outside.”

Roman shook his head, grabbing my hand and clasping it tightly as he said something quickly to the doctor. The other man nodded in understanding and motioned for us to enter the room.

“He says that she’s in critical condition. The damage to her heart was very severe,” he said in a whisper. “She’s not maintaining consciousness well.”

I didn’t need him to explain what that meant. We were lucky that we got here when we did, because Aba wouldn’t last much longer.

Roman dropped softly onto the bed, took her hand, and waited. In that moment I would have given anything for her to wake up, because the thought of Roman not getting to say goodbye was more than I could bear.

“Aba,” he said, but there was no response.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and said nothing.

“You have to wake up,” he said, his voice cracking. “Jess is here. We’re here together.”

Tears sat in a lump in my throat, and I tried to swallow against them. I’d only met Aba a few months ago, but she raised the man I loved and I wanted to know her longer.

“You were right,” Roman continued. “About her and I. You can’t walk away from love. I shouldn’t have tried to, but I don’t want you to worry. I won’t lose her again.”

He reached up and wove his fingers through mine, and it was there. The electric charge I always felt at his touch, but it had shifted. It had evolved into something else. Something deeper and harder to explain. It penetrated past my skin and into my blood and bones. I had never felt anything like it before and with it came a sense of unshakable certainty—a pure, undeniable moment of clarity. This was it.

Roman was
the
one.

It was somehow truer than simply being in love, and the realization sucked the air from my chest.

“Bien.” Aba’s blessing was thick and cottony, and although she didn’t open her eyes, I rushed from Roman’s side to find her a cup of water.

The pitcher in her room was empty, so I caught Roman’s eye and pointed to it. He nodded and leaned in to speak with his grandmother.

The hallway was deserted, so I took my chances, hoping I would find a nurse or a bathroom or even a garden hose at this point. Anything to help Roman have more time with Aba. Rounding the corner, I knocked into a nurse. The pitcher fell to the floor and she bent to pick it up, popping back onto her feet and holding it out to me.

“Agua?” I asked, pointing to it.

“Para?”

“Room one twenty-seven.” I held up a hand to correct myself. “No, ciento veintisiete.”

She nodded and took it from me. I tiptoed back to Aba’s room, but hesitated at the door. Roman and Aba were speaking in low voices, while he stroked her hand. As much as I wanted to be there for him right now, I also wanted to give him privacy.

“Señora Markson?”

I turned to discover the nurse was speaking to me. She offered me the pitcher.

“Oh, no, I’m not...” I blushed at her assumption.

The nurse looked confused as I took the pitcher from her. “Tù eres su esposa?”

Are you his wife?

Before I could respond, an alarm sounded down the hall and she dashed off, leaving me with a pitcher full of water and a red face. I guess it was natural to assume I was Roman’s wife since I was here at his side, but part of me was relieved that Roman hadn’t heard it while we were still on the shaky legs of our newborn reconciliation.

When I entered the room, Aba was awake and she smiled at me, even now she lit up the room. It was hard to imagine she was in such bad shape, but heart conditions were tricky like that.

“I’m happy you’ve come,” she said to me as I hovered next to Roman, but as soon as she said it, she began speaking Spanish again too quickly for my moderate knowledge of the language. Roman nodded, a grin breaking over his face as she spoke my name, which I did understand. Reaching out he tugged me down beside him and I sat on the edge of the bed, balancing carefully so I wouldn’t fall off or disturb her. Everything about this moment was awkward and uncomfortable and painful, except for being next to him and that meant that no matter what, it was going to be okay.

––––––––

W
hen we reached the hotel that night, exhaustion had set in, making us equal turns inappropriately giddy and somber. This time Cassie had snagged us a reasonable room in the main hotel. Ducking into the bathroom I took the opportunity to comb my hair, which was a tangled mess from the flight, and brush my teeth. But despite the travel and emotional roller coaster I’d endured today, I was wide awake. My body was tired, nearly numb from it, but my brain was on full alert. I wasn’t certain if I was waiting for the other shoe to drop or if I was simply overwhelmed by everything that had transpired through the day.