“Toc, Toc, Toc”
“Tap, Tap, Tap”
“Toc, Tap, Toc”
“Someone’s at the door.”
“Well, answer it tonto.
Don’t just sit there. I’m cooking.”
There she stood, as I
opened the door, carrying a small, blue suitcase. She was tall, curvaceous, with
blonde, straight hair that fell all the way down her back.
“Is this where I can find
Socorro?”
My mouth was open but
words could not escape my lips.
“Excuse me, is this where
Socorro lives?”
“Oh yes. Prima, te buscan!”
“How can I help you?”
“Manuel Miranda said he spoke with you …”
“Ah, yes. Raquel, right? Come on in. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
“Cierra la boca Javier. Te van a entrar las moscas.”
Raquel was visiting the country for the first time and my cousin agreed
to host her for a few days while she got a place to stay and got familiar with
the area.
“Hola, I’m Javier.”
“Gusto,” she nodded as she sat down with Socorro.
Raquel was a designer, like my cousin. She wanted to seek out ideas for a
new collection of clothing in the foreign markets. She heard there was an
untapped potential for targeting Latinos and Chicanos seeking a new identity. The
clothing would be affordable but fashionable.
Noticing that the two women were talking shop, I decided to excuse
myself and leave.
“¿No vas a comer antes que te vayas?” asked Socorro.
“Another day. I have to pick up Marilyn at work.”
That night I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about, while I lay there
looking at the ceiling, were her light colored eyes and her smooth, cream skin.
Her voice was strong, determined and confident. Most women I encountered lacked
that stature, but Raquel was different. She both intimidated me and sparked my
curiosity.
I couldn’t help it. The next day I showed up at my cousin’s house not
knowing what excuse I would use to be there. It probably was a bad idea to be
there, but it had been a long time since I’d felt this type of attraction.
“¿Tan pronto?”
“Well, I couldn’t let your delicious cochinita pibil go waste.”
“Sientate, I’ll make you a torta.”
“So, where are the kids?”
“Ramón took them to the matinee.”
“Ah, que bien. Y…?”
“Mira Javier, calm your hormones.
I don’t want any problems with Marilyn or my friend. He entrusted me
with ….”
“Good morning. Sorry I slept for so long. I guess I was jetlagged.”
“No te preocupes. Want a torta de cochinita?
“Sure, is there anything I can help with?”
“No, it’s all done. You want some coffee?
“Black and without sugar, please. Thank you.”
“So, what are your plans for the day?”
“Javier…” Socorro warned.
“What? I’m just asking a question.”
“Hola Javier. Disculpa, it was rude not to greet you earlier. I might
just stay in today. I’m still a bit tired and I need to rest up. Tomorrow, your
cousin and I will go to the Fashion District to check out some fabrics and meet
some shop owners she’s worked with. Besides, it’s Sunday and there isn’t much I
can do on a weekend.”
“Well, if you want…”
“Javier!” Socorro interrupted.
“I appreciate it. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Socorro made the best cochinita that morning. Or, perhaps it was the newfound
company that made it taste so great. I found out Raquel was reared only a
couple blocks away from where I grew up, yet somehow we’d never met. She was
the first woman in her family to earn a degree and even travel.
It would be a week before I saw her again. I kept my distance trying to
heed Socorro’s warning. When I came back to deliver a cabinet I’d built for
Antonio, one of my cousin’s children, I found out Raquel was moving to nearby
hotel that offered all the amenities of an apartment, plus some much needed
privacy.
“Well, I’m going to wait for the taxi outside. Thank you so much for
hosting me Socorro.”
“As I told you, you are welcome to stay here as long as you want. Are
you sure you don’t want Ramón to take you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
I overheard the conversation from Toñito’s room.
“Bueno prima, here you go. My nephew has a Javier Andrade original”
“Thank you. ¿Comes?”
“No, I have to be at work tomorrow. As you know, being artist doesn’t
pay the bills.”
“Bueno cuidate. Te quiero mucho. Gracias.”
Raquel was still waiting for her taxi when I got down the stairs.
“Te van robar.”
“No, this looks like a nice neighborhood. I should be okay.”
“Nevertheless, let me give you a ride.”
“Well, if it’s not much of a bother…”
“It’s settled.”
I took her to her hotel not expecting to see her again. She told me
about her travels and I told her about my dreams. She said she didn’t regret
pushing thirty and being single. She liked her independence. There was
something about her voice though that expressed a longing for something more.
As the weeks went by I found any excuse to see her. First it was ride
to downtown, then lunch, dinner and then a trip to Disneyland. I knew I was
playing with fire but it burned in every pore of my body and I wasn’t willing
to ignore it.
One night on the dance floor I kissed her. It was passionate and wild.
It was sensuous and tender. It woke up my dormant soul.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Sorry.”
“Please take me home.”
I did. Yet, it was too late. We were both in love and nothing, and no
one would get in the way. What may have been a fleeting moment became our
story. The story of a love that should not have been. The story of love that
gave me a reason to exist within the iris of her eyes.
I left my loveless marriage and decided to build a life with Raquel.
