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Authors: Alice Montalvo-Tribue

Tags: #Contemporary

Translation of Love (4 page)

BOOK: Translation of Love
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The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up. The distinct ringtone lets me know that it’s Jordan on the other end of the line. Jordan is the opposite of me physically. I am tall for a girl, curvy with naturally brown hair and brown eyes. Jordan is slender and petite with blonde hair and blue eyes. Simply put, she is stunning. Half asleep, I clumsily reach over to my nightstand, grab the phone and touch the screen to answer.

“Hello,” I answer dazedly.

“Rise and shine, pumpkin. Get your ass out of bed and come meet me for breakfast.”

“Mmmm. What time is it?”

“It’s eight am. Get up, take a shower and meet me at Laura’s in an hour.”

I’m all set to argue with her when I hear my stomach growl. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

Laura’s Café is the most popular place in town to grab a good, inexpensive breakfast. They are open for lunch and dinner too, but breakfast is where they see the most traffic. During the summer months, when all the tourists are in town, the line to get a table is normally out the door. This morning is busy as usual but luckily we are seated at a table immediately. We had just gotten our coffee and placed our orders when Jordan begins.

“I broke up with Mark yesterday.”

“What? Oh my God, Jordan. Why?”

“I don’t know. It was all getting to be too much, ya know? The constant attention, the phone calls, the text messages. It was all too much.” She picks up her cup of coffee and takes a sip, waiting for me to impart words of wisdom. Clearly, I’m in no position to give relationship advice to anyone but I do know that Mark cares about Jordan.

“That just means that he really likes you. Did you tell him that you maybe needed him to take it down a notch?”

“I tried, I really did but he just said that I was looking for excuses to push him away. Trying to create problems where there weren’t any. Then he asked me to move in with him!”

“He did what? You’re joking right?”

She takes another sip from her cup and shakes her head like a woman possessed. “I wish I was.”

I’ve known Jordan since I was 12 years old. She defended me from a girl that was twice my size who decided that I would be her new punching bag. Jordan had always been petite and, at first glance, looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly, but piss her off and she could go absolutely nuts. It was just the right combination of scary and hilarious and she developed quite the reputation as a fighter over the years. After she saved me from years of misery at the hands of a bully, we became an inseparable pair. She had been with me through the best and worst of times. Her parents divorced when we were in high school and it was an ugly divorce. They fought over everything, including custody of her. After they’d gotten married, her parents had a hard time trying to conceive but after years, and many failed attempts, they finally had Jordan. She was their only child and they doted on her, both wanting her so badly that they put her in the middle of a horrible custody suit. It was clear that she had not fully recovered from the trauma because every time a guy got too close, she would end the relationship.

“You know I like him, Elle. I really do but I can’t do it. I can’t do the whole forever thing. You saw how well that worked out for my parents. I’m not going through that shit.”

“I know, sweetie, but it’s not like that for everyone. If you care about him, you owe it to yourself to try. You never know, he might be the one.” I don’t believe a word that has just come out of my mouth, but as a friend it’s my duty to at the very least try to be supportive. Here I am telling my best friend to take a chance on a relationship when I’m as unconvinced as she is that it will work out. It’s not that I don’t think love ever works out, it’s just a crapshoot and the odds don’t seem so good to me. See, I have come to learn that men like my father are rare. The kind of man who would give his heart to one woman and in return he would take her heart and cherish it. Finding a man like that is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

“This coming from the girl who hasn’t been on a date in over two years.” Here we go. I knew this was coming. “When are you going to put yourself out there again, huh?”

“I’ll have you know that I was out on a date last night, thank you very much!” I reply smugly. I regret telling her instantly when I see her eyes grow wide.

“What!? You went on a date with who?” I hear the mix of shock and excitement in her voice.

“Just some guy I met at the bookstore yesterday, no big deal. We had a drink and talked a little bit.”

“Just some guy? Well, if he got you to have a drink with him he must be a God damn miracle worker.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

She puts her cup down, takes a breath and looks me in the eyes. I know I’m about to get a lecture. “Elle, you won’t even give a guy the time of day. You just finished telling me that I need to try to work on a relationship with Mark and you know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do. Maybe I do sabotage my relationships but at least I play the game. You are so far removed it’s not even funny. I know Brian put you through the ringer but enough is enough. At least try to get out there and have a good time.”

Why is the truth so hard to hear? I’m not stupid, I know that she’s right. I know that I’m a hypocrite. I’ve just given her advice that I have no intention of ever following myself. I often wonder what my life would be like if there had been no Brian. If, instead of him, I would have met a man who would have really loved me and respected me. How different would my life have been then? I know that I should be more open to trying to get back on the horse and see what else is out there, but my spirit has been crushed. And, up until last night, I’ve never had the desire to get to know another man. Okay I admit it, I would like to get to know Victor better but it’s just too hard to take that kind of risk again. I will allow myself to have this one date with him and then I have to put an end to it.

“Did you at least get this guys number?”

“I’m actually seeing him tonight. He asked me to go to dinner with him.”

She beams my way. “I love him already. This is great, Elle. Really! Just go out and have a good time. You don’t have to marry the guy, just enjoy yourself for once.”

I smile back, take a sip of my coffee and make a promise. “I’ll try.”

As I walk back into my house after breakfast with Jordan, I hear my phone beep alerting me to an incoming text message. I dig my phone out of my purse and look at the screen. I don’t recognize the number but I know who it’s from.

 

Good morning, Ellie. Hope you slept well. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up at 7:30.

 

Ellie? No one has ever called me that before. I’m not sure how I feel about it. In fact, I’m not sure about any of this. Do I want Victor to know where I live? I don’t get the axe murderer vibe from him but, then again, I don’t exactly have the best track record. I’m a legend when it comes to attracting losers. If there’s a scumbag within a ten mile radius, I can spot him. I text Victor back with an alternate suggestion.

 

Good morning. Why don’t you just let me know where you’re staying and I’ll meet you there. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.

 

That should do it. He’ll think I’m just being thoughtful. Having him come to my house is just not in my comfort zone. I have to keep him at bay and giving up where I live would mean letting my guard down. That’s something that I’m not prepared to do, EVER. The familiar beep from my phone alerts me to another text.

 

Don’t worry, Ellie, I’m not a murderer. You’ll be perfectly safe with me. My rental is equipped with a GPS. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding you.

 

Shit! He didn’t fall for my thoughtful act at all. He saw right through my message. That was my only good excuse for him not picking me up. He left me with no choice so I do the only thing I can do. I text him my address and hope that I haven’t made another bad decision

 

 

I spend the rest of the day cleaning my tiny, two-bedroom house. Cleaning for me is cathartic. It’s one of the only activities I can do that helps me to think and clear my head. My house isn’t much but I love it. With an open floor plan, the front door leads you immediately into a small living room covered in hard wood floors. There is a light blue love seat and a distressed white coffee table with matching end tables on either side of the couch. Directly in front of the couch is an old working fireplace with a mantle that houses pictures of my family. Above the fireplace is a flat screen television mounted on the wall. Everything about it is inviting. Two glass double doors separate the living room from the dining room, which is painted a faint shade of yellow. In the middle of the dining room sits a rectangular wooden table, which comfortably seats four. The dining room opens up to a small kitchen on the left that has been updated with white cabinets, light granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

After making sure that the lower level is spotless, I climb the stairs to the upper level where the two bedrooms and bathroom are located. The second bedroom is used mostly for storage but there is a daybed in there for the occasional guest, which is mostly limited to Jordan after a night out at the clubs or Gemma when she wants a sleepover with her Auntie Elle. The bathroom is small but it has also been renovated with Tuscan style ceramic tiles and a new tub and showerhead. My bedroom is my sanctuary. It has large windows that let in the sunlight, making the whole space seem open and airy. The queen size bed is my favorite piece of furniture and, even though I rarely sleep, it’s very comfortable. Next to my bed is a matching nightstand that holds my laptop and some of my books. Directly in front of my bed is a large dresser and mirror that is framed by two antique sconces I picked up at a yard sale. I purchased this house for a steal early last year when it was nothing more than an old abandoned shack. No one wanted it so it had been on the market for years. I, however, knew it had potential. It had been abused and left to rot just like I had been and after seeing it once, I knew it had to be mine. I loved the neighborhood and the idea of being just a few miles from the beach, so I threw caution to the wind and enlisted the help of Dad and Gavin to fix it up. I was proud of the final outcome. It was a labor of love and I had to put in a lot of overtime hours to be able to get this house to look more like a home.

In my bedroom, I move to my walk-in closet to choose an outfit for tonight. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard but I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t care at all. I want to look good. I promised Jordan that I would try to make the most of this date and that’s exactly what I intend to do. After standing in front of my closet staring at my clothes for ten minutes, I decide on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a sky blue tank top, paired with a charcoal gray jacket. I finish off the outfit with a beaded necklace, matching bangle bracelet and black pumps.

I take a long shower, blow dry my hair and decide to wear it down in soft waves which cascade down my back and frame my face. I keep my makeup simple. Small amounts of foundation, bronzer, and eyeliner, a slight dusting of blush and a bit of mascara. I finish the look with a nude lip gloss. I change into my outfit and take a look at myself in the full-length mirror hung behind my bedroom door. Pleased with the final result, I turn off the lights in my bedroom and go downstairs. At around seven twenty, I decide to wait outside on my porch swing. If I can’t keep Victor from knowing where I live, at least I can save myself from having to invite him inside.

I see headlights turning down my street. Moments later, a dark SUV slows in front of my house. I quickly grab my purse off of the porch swing, get up and descend my front steps. As I reach the last step, Victor rounds his car. He smiles wide and starts walking in my direction. With every step he takes toward me, I feel like my feet get heavier and I’m rooted to my spot on the ground. I can’t tear my eyes away from him. His hair is styled the same way as it had been yesterday. He’s wearing black shoes and dark straight leg jeans that fit like they are made for him. He paired this with a deep navy blue, button down shirt with long sleeves that he has pushed up to expose his forearms.

He makes it to me and instantly pulls me into a hug that consumes me with warmth. I have to admit, it feels very nice to be hugged by him but more importantly to be in his arms. He pulls away, leaving me cold again. As he pulls back, he looks over me from head to toe. Then his eyes meet mine.

“Ellie, you look beautiful.”

BOOK: Translation of Love
8.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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