Magdalena's Shadow, page 10
“Stop it,” Coco blushed at the thoughts. She was a seventeen-year-old virgin. How could he not see that?
“What?”
“I’m not like that. I could see what you were thinking but you’re wrong. You could try to guess forever, but you’d still get it wrong. I’m happy with my life and with Bebe, so please don’t ask and don’t think about it. We’re good.”
“You are, I know. I’m sorry for prying.” Rob pushed another marshmallow onto his skewer and roasted it.
Coco watched him for a while before glancing at Bebe. “I should get her home.”
“In a minute.” Rob brought the marshmallow out of the fire, blowing the heat off the smoldering tip. The expression in his eyes had shifted from warmth to something very different in the flickering light. “This night got pretty intense pretty quickly and you still haven’t even had a marshmallow.”
Rob held the marshmallow up to her lips. She opened her mouth slowly, sucking off the crunchy top, leaving the soft center on the skewer. A fleck of white marshmallow clung to the corner of her mouth. Rob watched her as he slid the remaining marshmallow into his mouth and placed the skewer down on the tile.
“You have got some right here.” He indicated her upper lip, but before she could move her hand to brush it away, his lips met hers, nibbling at the sugary lip. She melted, leaning slowly into the kiss that was so light, so gentle at first it was hardly a kiss at all. She kissed him back, the pressure increasing until she could hardly breathe. His lips parted hers as she felt how totally vulnerable she was to him. His sugary sweet tongue flickered over her own as she hesitantly met the open kiss.
And then it was over the way it had begun, dizzyingly sweet with a hint of gentle surprise. When Coco finally opened her eyes, he was staring down at her, his expression questioning her look of complete surrender.
“Don’t play with me, Rob.” Coco blushed. “You’ll ruin us if you’re just playing.” She sat up, suddenly aware of how she must look. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I’m not… worldly like you. I don’t play around.” She looked embarrassed and ashamed.
“Who’s playing?” His brow creased as he looked at her. “Everything you are is new to me; I’ve never known a woman like you before, Coco.” He kissed her again, gently, sliding his hand down the side of her face. Coco kept her eyes closed, her hands resting on his broad shoulders, loving how he explored her face and throat with his lips. When he drew away again, Coco couldn’t look up. If she moved it would be to ask for more. She felt his hands move over her collarbone, coming to rest on the cross at her throat.
“Beautiful.” He lifted the symbol up into the firelight. “It looks so worn.”
“It was my mother’s.” Coco lifted the cross out of his hands remembering Tia’s plea for honesty. The gold felt warm to the touch. “I think it’s been in my family a long time.”
Rob kissed her again, this time on the forehead as he got up.
“Come on, I’ll carry Bebe home.”
Coco shook her head. “You don’t have to.” She felt afraid of what more kissing could lead to inside #2. In that moment, she realized how easy it would be to sleep with him.
Rob walked her to the door, stopping her before she left.
“Sleep well, beautiful.” Leaning over, he kissed her goodnight.
I’m only seventeen, Coco reminded herself as the early morning bus took her toward Gilman’s. She felt nervous and excited at the same time. In four months she would be legal but until then she had to hold out… stay friends or stay away. The problem was she wasn’t sure she could manage to do either.
Carmen was waiting for her in the rotunda in a green fifties-era dress and black high-heeled leather boots. On Carmen, as always, it worked.
“Vintage?” Coco pointed at the green organza.
“You know it. I picked this up in Seattle last year.”
“Cool.” And it was. Carmen exuded confidence in the same way Rob did. Everything he had done with her the night before he had done with graceful self-assurance. “You were right. Men are dangerous!”
“What happened?”
“Just a kiss. It could’ve been more but….”
“Is it that cute neighbor you’re always talking about?” Carmen interrupted. “Was he nice or do I need to kick his ass?”
“He was wonderful. I just hadn’t expected things to accelerate so quickly.”
“Just be careful and stay in charge.”
Coco fingered her cross while she thought. “Tia says God’s in charge. She says He has a divine plan for us.”
“Oh the hell he does!” Carmen laughed. “That’s bullshit, Coco. God’s just watching, waiting to see us fall. You’re on your own, girl.”
The thought made Coco feel small and insignificant. With a belief structure like that it was no wonder Carmen went through life like a battle-axe.
“You okay?” Carmen looked hard at Coco.
“Fine,” Coco answered, feeling uneasy and confused.
Coco sat tapping her pencil on the table and stared out the window. It looked onto the busy North Western Avenue in Ravenswood. Carmen sat sewing at a table ahead of her, concentrating on her work. The sun sank low on that perfect late autumn day. The few leaves that held stubbornly to the trees thrashed like tethered balloons in the constant wind. Autumn always impressed Coco with its color and vibrancy. She wanted to capture it, to drape the season across her sewing table, to cut it, stitch it, and make it last. She felt the death of summer, its warmth sinking under the cold of winter in the same way she felt her platonic friendship with Rob melting and changed by the heat of their growing attachment. Loving him, being his would be deliciously complicated but was it a complication she was ready for?
A movement distracted her. Jack leaned over Carmen’s table and whispered into her ear. A second later she heard Carmen laugh. Jack leaned closer, and kissed her before going. Carmen stopped her work, her eyes lifted to watch him leave the room. Coco hadn’t meant to stare, but in that second Carmen turned and caught her gaze. The two women locked eyes.
Carmen sighed, “Coco, remember when I told you men were trouble? Well, the real trouble is that I never follow my own advice. Jack and I are dating. I’m sure you have got something to say. God knows you had plenty of opinions on this subject before. Are you happy now?”
“I have nothing to say on the subject. Remember? I’M… NOT… BEING… A… TWIT,” Coco said, turning to smirk at her friend.
The sun was setting when Coco returned home feeling tired and worried. Class had run late and she had needed Tia to stay with Bebe, but Tia hadn’t answered any of her calls. She walked up the front steps past the evening doorman to the elevator. Inside the elevator car, the mirrored walls reflected a tall girl with long wavy black hair, thigh high leather boots, and a tri-colored fur coat that almost completely covered her black micro shorts. Staring at her reflection, she couldn’t help thinking that she looked like a hooker, home from a hard night’s whoring.
The elevator reached the top floor, the doors sliding open with the usual ding, but the view that greeted her was far from usual. A note was taped on #2, and another on #1. Coco moved toward her door to read that letter first. “Took Bebe to Karen, had a family emergency, see you tomorrow. Tia.”
Coco walked to #1 where the second note hung. “Mila sick, Mr. Banks working late, at the drug store for fever reducer. Karen.”
Coco moved back toward #2, pulling the note down as she unlocked the door. The interior was its usual gloomy circa 2000 postmodern self, except for the brightly colored toys on the couch and floor.
“You need redecorating,” Coco said to the empty room, knowing how fun it would be to add color and warmth to the white-on-white room.
“I don’t think it looks bad.” Rob answered, walking in the door behind her.
Coco turned in shock; she had not heard his door open let alone him entering the apartment.
“Hey.” She didn’t return his smile. “That’s the second time you have crept up on me. Do it again and I’ll make you wear bells.”
“For you,” he answered seductively, “anything.” Coco melted when he smiled his crooked smile, reeling her in. “I had an awful day.” He nuzzled her ear, and breathed her in, “so I thought I would end it with… something nice.” Rob kissed her neck and pulled her close.
“Rob,” Coco tried to catch her breath, his charm and heavenly scent overwhelming her, “sometimes I wonder if you’re good for me.”
He raised one eyebrow as if challenged and then grinned wickedly. “It’s a wise woman who asks herself that question.” As he looked at her serious expression his grin faded slightly.
“Well?” Coco looked him straight in the eye. “What exactly are your intentions? I need to know.”
He shrugged, the grin creeping back to his lips. “I’ll let you know when I figure them out.” He moved to kiss her.
Coco ducked. “I like you a lot,” she breathed, her heartrate soaring as she caught his hands before they could slip around her waist, “and if you kiss me I’ll like you even more, but I’ve got priorities and you need to give me time. I can’t fall for you right now.”
Rob looked earnestly into her shy gaze, her eyelids flickering uncertainly over honey colored eyes. “What do you mean fall?” His words slid sweetly into her ear, the resonance in his deep voice sending shivers through her body. “I believe in your case it’s fell. I’m quite certain you’re in love with me, Coco.”
He raised her hands to his lips, kissing each one gently on the palm before running the tips of his fingers up her arms, sending sparks coursing through her body. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that left her breathless. He drew back slowly, taking in the soft yielding expression on her face before he kissed her again. The second kiss was every bit as gentle as the first, as soft and loving yet more purposeful and passionate as he explored her lips with his own until he felt her body melt toward him, her legs no longer supporting her.
He ended the kiss to look seriously into her eyes. “Get some rest,” he added, nuzzling her ear, gently nipping the lobe before turning to go.
Coco sagged onto the couch tired and annoyed. Why did he tease her? Why did he push all her buttons and then leave her alone? She hated wanting him and she hated that he knew she wanted him. Why can’t I control myself better? Why am I lost the moment he enters the room?
“Rob… Rob… Rob,” Coco sighed, knowing that just the sound of his name turned her on. Add in the sound of his voice, his confidence, his intoxicating scent, and she was at his mercy, a toy without a will of her own.
Chapter Fourteen
Karen delivered an exhausted Bebe at a quarter to eight. Mila’s temperature was high but Bebe’s was higher.
“I brought you this.” Karen pulled a bottle of fever reducer out of her shopping bag. “They’re both sick and this stuff works like magic.”
Coco thanked her and saw her to the door. At the same instant Bebe leaned over the side of the couch and vomited.
“Bebe’s much worse.” Coco stood with Karen an hour later in the atrium. “Her fever is so high that I’ve called a cab to take us to the hospital. Has Mila’s temperature gone up?”
“No, not like Bebe’s has.” Karen looked with worry on the red-faced toddler. “Poor sweetie.”
“I wish Tia were here. Did she tell you why she had to leave early?”
“No, only that she had to go. I hope everything’s all right.”
The taxi waited at the curb. Coco slid into the dingy interior with Bebe clutched to her chest. Coco had dressed the two-year-old warmly in quilted pants, a snow jacket, and a hat. Though it was only fall it was already dipping toward freezing outside. Coco shivered in her micro-shorts and fur. She hadn’t had time to change and her feet were killing her in the stiletto boots she still wore. Lights flickered through the glass as the cab wound through the empty streets past the closed shops and low lit store fronts. Every beam of light that passed over Bebe’s face brought Coco closer to panic. The distant city lights cast her sister’s feverish features in long shadows, making Bebe look almost corpselike. The only sounds Coco heard when the cab pulled into the emergency entrance were Bebe’s shallow breaths and the panicked beats of her own heart.
Coco scrambled out of the cab, tossing cash at the driver before turning to run on clattering heels up the sidewalk of the old hospital. Patients clogged the doorway, smoking and talking under the eaves of the building in an attempt to escape the cold north wind. Coco pushed through the gathering only to find that the lobby was as thick with people as the doorway had been.
Nurses conducted triage in the overcrowded waiting room while patients sat, stood, and lay everywhere. Coco froze, her breath caught in her chest as she wondered if coming to the hospital had been a mistake. The reality was that without help she couldn’t bring Bebe’s fever down.
Coco walked toward the Admissions sign on the ceiling, looking at the line that ran under it. It took her thirty seconds to spot the end and sixty more to move through the crowd to reach it. Her feet screamed as one, then two hours ticked by. Bebe slept on, peacefully unaware that she was anywhere but home.
“Next,” the nurse called from behind bulletproof glass.
Coco staggered up to the admissions desk. “My daughter’s sick.” She turned so the nurse could see Bebe’s flushed face and black ringed eyes.
The nurse shoved papers through a slot before telling Coco a triage nurse would be with her as soon as possible. Thirty more minutes ticked by before a chair became available. Coco sat down feeling the blood in her feet slowly begin to recirculate while trying not to imagine the blisters and swelling she would find when she got home.
Another hour ticked by before a nurse called Bebe’s name. Coco jumped up, afraid that if she moved too slowly they would skip her and move on to the next patient.
The nurse took Bebe’s temperature before hitting a button at the side of her desk. A single light blinked and less than five minutes later a blue clad male nurse appeared to take them to a room.
“You’re lucky we’re not busy,” the nurse said, glancing quickly over Bebe’s file.
“You’re not busy?” Coco asked, incredulous.
“No, like I said, lucky for you.”
He led them to a small room sectioned off by curtain partitions. Twenty minutes later a second nurse bustled in with an IV and a blood drawing kit.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said to the unconscious Bebe, “I’m going to take some blood and give you some fluids.” The nurse glanced up at Coco, who sat at Bebe’s head, holding her hand. “There’s a severe viral infection going around. Your daughter has the same look and symptoms as a little girl I treated an hour ago.”
A young intern no more than twenty-six entered the room but stopped dead when he saw Coco sitting beside Bebe’s bed. He stared at her smeared makeup, disheveled hair, and stylishly risqué clothing. After the awkward pause, he took Bebe’s vitals and left the room.
Another hour passed and no one disturbed them. The constant noise of people and machines eventually faded to background static. Coco draped Bebe’s little pink snow coat over her lap for warmth and lay her head on the bed next to her sister. Within minutes she was fast asleep. Her last thought was that whatever it was they were giving Bebe, it was making her better. The color in her cheeks looked closer to normal and she was no longer too hot to touch.
Coco awoke to a hand on her arm. When she looked up she saw a small woman in a green plaid dress with a clipboard.
“Hello,” the woman smiled down at Coco. “I need to ask you a few questions before your daughter can be released from the hospital.”
“Bebe was born in Argentina.” Coco blurted the statement as her first line of defense, her sleep muddled mind adding, “In Miramar. She doesn’t have a Social Security card yet. We’re Argentinean but we’ve lived here all our lives. I can pay you for her care. Honestly, I’ll give you cash. I have cash!” The woman listened quietly, but her serene composure made Coco even more nervous. She couldn’t admit that Bebe wasn’t hers. If she did she could lose custody of her. “I had Bebe… by myself… when I was… in Miramar. I have cash. We can skip insurance and I’ll just pay you and go, okay?”
The woman set down her pencil and said nothing; after an uncomfortably long pause, she got up and left the room. Three minutes later she returned with Bebe’s release papers.
“If you fill these out, Miss Rodriguez, Bebe might qualify for medical coupons. With the coupons, you can keep your income. It’d also be a good idea to have her naturalized as a citizen seeing as you have citizenship here.”
“I do?” Coco asked before she could stop herself.
“You have a social security number? You wrote it down on the intake papers.” The woman looked a little sad as she presented Coco with a flyer for drug addiction and another for streetwalkers, tucked discreetly between two sheets of plain white card. Coco stared at the flyer and almost laughed. But the woman’s sober expression pulled the smile from her lips.
“Listen. I know you’re a lot younger than you pretend to be. I know you have had it rough. You have a baby and you’re on your own, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a fresh start, Miss Rodriguez. There’s always hope. Many women turn their lives around. Haven House,” she pointed to the pamphlet for streetwalkers, “has helped a lot of girls reenter mainstream society.”
“I’m not a prostitute,” Coco protested. “I’m in fashion.”
“I’m sure you are.” The woman nodded, an understanding smile touching her lips.
Bebe was off the IV and grumbling loudly. She hated being woken up, touched, or moved. Coco didn’t have an easy time getting her into her pink winter coat. Bebe was nearly dressed when Coco heard movement behind her. She turned to look and saw Rob standing beside the open curtain, a look of concern etched on his features.
