Saint tore his eyes away. “I’m not obsessed. We’re spending a lot of time together because we are trying to find a place to set up a new El Hogar.”
“Oh, did you expect to find it in her throat or up the back of her dress?”
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“Now Iknowyou’re lying. I’m hilarious. You’re just mad that I’m calling bullshit.”
Saint didn’t respond.
“Look, bro. I don’t care how you want to dress up whatever it is you’re doing with her. All I know is that for the first time since you came back, you seem, I don’t know, alive. Lord knows you’ve been a serious stick-in-the-mud since you were born, but ever since Robyn died and you came back to take care of Rosie, it’s like you’ve been a zombie or something, just going through the motions. I like seeing you alive, and if it’s because of her, you have my full support...even if her singing reminds me when the cats in the alley behind El Coquí are in heat.”
Saint barked out a laugh. “It’s not that bad.”
“It is.”
It was. And Leo was right about him too, as much as Saint hated to admit it. It wasn’t that he’d simply been going through the motions. It was that everything had changed so quickly and in such an unexpected way. Then everything just kept right on changing and he’d never been able to catch up. The only way to get through it had been to just keep going even as he felt himself falling farther and farther behind. It had taken Lola completely knocking him off track for him to stop, look around, and realize that he was nowhere near where he wanted to be. Lola who never faltered in her path, who could look at something, see what was wrong, know how to fix it, and work doggedly until the task was completed.
Working with her pointed him in the direction of the shore, so that he could finally stop simply treading water. He was going to help create a new home for the kids in his neighborhood who needed it most. He’d help Lola create a place they could go to be safe, eat, sleep, learn, grow, and just have fun. Somewhere they could have a positive experience no matter what they’d experienced before. Lola was giving Saint a sense of purpose and he was so glad she had decided to come home.
16
The front door to Saint’s house swung open revealing Rosie in a black dress covered in daisies and a leather jacket. She had little combat boots on her feet and thick tights on her legs. Her curly hair was down but with a severe part on the right, with the left side held back by a twist. There was no missing the similarity to Lola’s look a few days earlier at karaoke night.
Lola’s heart melted.
“Look at you, girlie. You look awesome.”
Rosie smiled, grabbed Lola’s hand, and pulled her into the house.
Lola looked around but didn’t see Saint. She did hear a shower running in the distance. “Is your dad still getting ready?” she asked, having learned to ask Rosie yes or no questions.
Rosie nodded. She pulled Lola over to the couch and pointed at it.
Lola sat. “I’m really excited about today,” she shared. “Have you ever been to Navy Pier?”
Another nod. Then Rosie turned away and headed to the kitchen.
Lola heard the refrigerator door open and close.
She returned a moment later with a juice box, which she handed to Lola along with the remote. “Oh. Thank you, Rosie. You are such a good hostess.”
She smiled. She motioned for Lola to stay there, pointed to the TV, then spun on her heels and raced to her room.
Apparently, she was supposed to entertain herself while the Vegas finished getting ready. Not wanting to offend Rosie, Lola turned on the TV and opened the juice box as directed. On the screen some distinguished-sounding British man was narrating a scene of sea otters frolicking in the water. Lola had barely begun to pay attention when a door opened somewhere in the house and heavy footsteps approached.
Saint entered carrying a pair of black, white, and gray Nikes that almost perfectly matched her black, white, gray, and purple ones. He had on a black hoodie with thin white cursive lettering and black jeans, but it was the hat that did her in. It was a simple all black baseball cap, but she hadn’t seen Saint in a hat since they were teens and fuck did he look good in it.
He stopped short upon seeing her sitting on the couch. “You’re here.”
Lola swallowed the drool in her mouth. “Yep.”
“Where’s Rosie?” He took a seat at an island stool and pulled on a shoe. His bicep filled the arm of his sweater.
Lola stared. “Uh.” She tried to pull herself together. “She went to her room.”
He slipped his other shoe on, tied it, then stood up. When he adjusted his sweater to make sure it lay how he wanted, Lola almost groaned. This was not good. It was as if every single thing he did was designed to make her wet.
He knocked on Rosie’s door. “Nena, come on. It’s time to go. What are you doing?” Of course, there was no answer, but there was a lot of sound coming from the room.
