highway.
“So, where have you been?” Rosa asked. She leaned against the tree again, crossed her arms.
“Steven and I watched the sun rise.” I raised my camera. “I think I got some good shots.”
Rosa’s smile was crooked. At fifteen she had already bloomed into an exotic island flower. I was certain there were not too many boys who hadn’t tried to date her already. But Eliana—a widow with no husband to keep the proverbial shotgun prepared—had stood firm and stated emphatically that Rosa would not see any boy until she was sixteen. Even her escort for her quinceañera had been her cousin Luis from the mainland.
Secretly, I wondered though. Rosa was like a wild mustang that couldn’t be saddled with the rules of her “overprotective mama.”
“You went out with him last night too?”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “We did. Last night it was the sunset. Tonight . . . dinner.”
“Dinner? Steven Granger is gonna buy you dinner?”
I kicked at the sand with my sandaled toes. “Well . . . burgers.”
Rosa laughed. “Not me, chica. When I date, the boy is gonna take me to the fancy places in town or there will be no dating Rosa Rivera.”
We walked over to the platform, where the Adirondack chairs gleamed white in the morning sunlight. “Do you have your eyes on anyone?” I asked.
Rosa laughed lightly. “Maybe.” We sat. “But tell me more about you and Steven,” she coaxed.
I crossed my legs, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. “It’s all good.”
“Does he kiss you? I mean, other than that little pecking thing I saw in the truck there.”
I looked at Rosa and nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“What else do you do? Come on, now. You can tell me.”
I laughed then. “No,” I said. “Nothing like that. Just kissing.”
“But you want to, no?”
“But I won’t. I’ve made myself a promise to wait, and I’m going to wait.”
Rosa looked up at the house. “Papa Bear would kill you if you didn’t, I’d suspect.”
I laughed again. “He’d kill us both if he even thought it was a possibility. But Dad knows where I stand on that issue. He knows I want to wait.”
Rosa stood and looked down at me. “Then, linda , I suggest you be careful how you behave when you are with Steven.”
“Meaning?”
Rosa reached over and tugged at the loose strands of my hair. “It means, if you don’t want to fight the bull, stay out of the ring.”
11
The first thing I noticed about Patsy when she opened the door was the small digital camera wrapped in her hand.
“Ready?” I asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she answered.
During the drive to 1st and G streets, I asked her more about her family, most specifically if any of them lived nearby. “Not near enough,” was all she said in answer.
“You said you’re divorced. I imagine your sons are with their father now?”
I looked straight ahead. The sun was sinking fast and the sky was turning exquisite shades of red and orange. “Yes,” I answered. “For five weeks this summer.”
“Is this week one?”
I could only nod. “Patsy, do you live here full-time?” I asked for change of subject.
“Every day of the year as long as the Lord allows.”
I jutted my chin outward. “Do you ever get tired of this vista?”
“Never.” She raised her camera. “That’s why I brought this thing. One of my grans sent it to me. He’s stationed over in Iraq, and he says my pictures keep him close to home.”
“How nice of you to send him photographs, Patsy. I’m sure he enjoys your letters too.”
“What letters?” Patsy almost huffed. “We keep in touch on Facebook. Of course, he can’t tell me anything important like where he is and what he’s doing, but at least I know he’s all right.”
“My oldest, Chase, is on Facebook. Cody is champing at the bit for an account, but I told him he has to wait until he’s thirteen, like the rules say.”
Patsy reached over and patted my knee. “You’re a good mama.”
It felt
“So, where have you been?” Rosa asked. She leaned against the tree again, crossed her arms.
“Steven and I watched the sun rise.” I raised my camera. “I think I got some good shots.”
Rosa’s smile was crooked. At fifteen she had already bloomed into an exotic island flower. I was certain there were not too many boys who hadn’t tried to date her already. But Eliana—a widow with no husband to keep the proverbial shotgun prepared—had stood firm and stated emphatically that Rosa would not see any boy until she was sixteen. Even her escort for her quinceañera had been her cousin Luis from the mainland.
Secretly, I wondered though. Rosa was like a wild mustang that couldn’t be saddled with the rules of her “overprotective mama.”
“You went out with him last night too?”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “We did. Last night it was the sunset. Tonight . . . dinner.”
“Dinner? Steven Granger is gonna buy you dinner?”
I kicked at the sand with my sandaled toes. “Well . . . burgers.”
Rosa laughed. “Not me, chica. When I date, the boy is gonna take me to the fancy places in town or there will be no dating Rosa Rivera.”
We walked over to the platform, where the Adirondack chairs gleamed white in the morning sunlight. “Do you have your eyes on anyone?” I asked.
Rosa laughed lightly. “Maybe.” We sat. “But tell me more about you and Steven,” she coaxed.
I crossed my legs, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. “It’s all good.”
“Does he kiss you? I mean, other than that little pecking thing I saw in the truck there.”
I looked at Rosa and nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“What else do you do? Come on, now. You can tell me.”
I laughed then. “No,” I said. “Nothing like that. Just kissing.”
“But you want to, no?”
“But I won’t. I’ve made myself a promise to wait, and I’m going to wait.”
Rosa looked up at the house. “Papa Bear would kill you if you didn’t, I’d suspect.”
I laughed again. “He’d kill us both if he even thought it was a possibility. But Dad knows where I stand on that issue. He knows I want to wait.”
Rosa stood and looked down at me. “Then, linda , I suggest you be careful how you behave when you are with Steven.”
“Meaning?”
Rosa reached over and tugged at the loose strands of my hair. “It means, if you don’t want to fight the bull, stay out of the ring.”
11
The first thing I noticed about Patsy when she opened the door was the small digital camera wrapped in her hand.
“Ready?” I asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she answered.
During the drive to 1st and G streets, I asked her more about her family, most specifically if any of them lived nearby. “Not near enough,” was all she said in answer.
“You said you’re divorced. I imagine your sons are with their father now?”
I looked straight ahead. The sun was sinking fast and the sky was turning exquisite shades of red and orange. “Yes,” I answered. “For five weeks this summer.”
“Is this week one?”
I could only nod. “Patsy, do you live here full-time?” I asked for change of subject.
“Every day of the year as long as the Lord allows.”
I jutted my chin outward. “Do you ever get tired of this vista?”
“Never.” She raised her camera. “That’s why I brought this thing. One of my grans sent it to me. He’s stationed over in Iraq, and he says my pictures keep him close to home.”
“How nice of you to send him photographs, Patsy. I’m sure he enjoys your letters too.”
“What letters?” Patsy almost huffed. “We keep in touch on Facebook. Of course, he can’t tell me anything important like where he is and what he’s doing, but at least I know he’s all right.”
“My oldest, Chase, is on Facebook. Cody is champing at the bit for an account, but I told him he has to wait until he’s thirteen, like the rules say.”
Patsy reached over and patted my knee. “You’re a good mama.”
It felt
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