Forever, For Always Page 2

  “Thanks, Gloria, me too,” I answer as I shut and lock the door behind her.

  I turn around to Benny holding up a white piece of paper with scribbles that resemble two rectangles and circles below them. “Mommy, do you like my picture? It is a police car and fire truck!”

  I crouch down to his level so that I’m face to face with him. “That is the best police car and fire truck I have ever seen!” I exclaim to him while grabbing it out of his hands. “Let’s go hang it on the refrigerator.” Benny grabs my hand as we walk to the kitchen.

  The aroma of the ropa whatever it was called has taken over the entire kitchen. I lift the lid to the pot and am in heaven. I never knew something could smell this good. It is still a few hours until dinner time, so I let Benny choose a movie for us to watch together.

  Hours later after snuggles while watching his favorite movie for the thousandth time, devouring that wonderful shredded beef and rice, and Benny’s bath time; I’m now doing my favorite thing. It is rare that my now three year old lets me rock him to sleep. He is still feeling a little under the weather, so I’m going to take advantage of it while I can. I sing our nightly bed time song, You Are My Sunshine, three times until he is finally asleep. I always replace the last “sunshine” of the song with “Benny” so that I sing, please don’t take, my Benny away. That is his favorite part. The warmth of his little body in my arms is a reminder that a piece of Dominic will always live on.

  Chapter Two

  I step out of the shower from my daily cry session. It’s the only time I allow myself to grieve. I don’t ever want Benny to see this side of me. I hate so much that we have to live our life like this, on the run. I’m so scared that he will never have a normal childhood because of it, which is the one thing I had always wished for a child of mine. My heart breaks most though, that he’ll never know his daddy. I found out I was pregnant about a month after leaving Manhattan. Benedict Dominic Bruno was conceived on our wedding night. I decided to give him the name that Dominic had chosen for himself and his father’s real name as his middle. It is astounding how much Benny resembles Dominic. If I had not given birth to him myself, I would have never believed he was mine. Dominic would have been so proud to be a dad and he would have been amazing at it. I wish every single second of every single day that he could be here to watch him grow. I just have to remind myself that he is always watching over us.

  I sit on the bathroom sink as I blow dry my shoulder length, slightly angled bob of white blonde hair. I’m worried that the bleach will forever damage it, but not as worried as I am about being recognized somehow, so I deal with it. I’ve become a pro at coloring my hair and eyebrows. Just in the week we have been here, the Miami sun has already given my skin some color as well, so that adds to my new look that is forever changing. I only blow dry my hair halfway to give it a wavy look today.

  I get dressed into my Carlos’s Café tee-shirt and khaki shorts. Just as I’m lacing up my tennis shoes I hear Gloria lightly knock on the door. I rush to the living room so Benny doesn’t wake up and open the door for her.

  “Buenos Dias, Vada,” she quietly says with a big, cheery smile as she walks in. “How was Benny last night?”

  “Good morning, Gloria.” I smile as I think of how lucky I was to find her. I make a mental note to say an extra thank you to God in my prayer to work this morning for sending her to me, or me to her I guess. “Fever free and slept like a rock all night. It must have been one of those twenty four hour things.” I grab my purse off of the couch and throw my phone into it before slinging it over my shoulder. I sneak into Benny’s room and pull his blanket back over him. I move a piece of his jet black hair off of his forehead so that I can kiss it. “I love you, Benny. Forever, for always. For all of time,” I whisper to him and then quietly walk out of his room.

  “Have a good day at work, Vada. You should try one of the guava and coconut pastelitos today. They are a café favorite. I only make them once a week. It makes for great sales on Tuesdays,” she says with a wink.

  “Thanks, Gloria. I will, those sound delicious. See you this afternoon.”

  The colorful city is still dark when I walk to work each morning. I am definitely not in the safest part of Little Havana, either. I take my rosary out from my purse and start my daily morning prayer for the five block walk. This makes me feel safe and not as scared walking by myself. Dominic’s mother was a devout Catholic, and she took him to mass regularly. After she died, he still made sure to keep his faith, and he is the one who introduced me to it. It was the one thing in our life that we didn’t have to question, regardless of how badly we were treated. We had God. That is what got us through each day.

  Once I get to the café, I see Carlos out back unloading the pastries Gloria made for today. I walk over to his car to give him a hand.

  “Pastelitos?” I ask him as he hands me a big glass container.

  “Ay yi yi,” he says shaking his head back and forth as he grabs another container filled with the same thing and follows me into the building. “Mama thinks she is so business savvy with this only once a week stuff. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but Tuesdays are a mad house if we run out of these too quickly. You wouldn’t believe the amount of angry phone calls I get. These have become the bane of my existence. To think, they used to be my favorite thing in the world Mama made.”

  He sets the container down beside the display case as I’m already filling it from what I had carried in. “Sounds about like how many times a day I’m asked where Marisol is,” I grumble under my breath.

  Carlos lets out a big whoop as he laughs. “Sorry about that. Marisol was a perfectionist and everyone she came in contact with couldn’t help but love her. I guess that is why her quitting without any notice threw me off. People just don’t like change around here. It will get better, I promise.” He drums the top of the display case with his fingertips in thought. “Oh, I have one more container of the pastelitos to bring in before I leave. I’m going to put them in the office as back up, I’m sure you will need them by noon. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Carlos,” I say to him as he turns and heads out the back door. I walk to the front of the cafe to turn on the OPEN light and unlock the front door when I notice the same police officer as yesterday standing outside waiting.

  “You know we don’t open until five, right?” I ask as he walks right in as soon as I click the lock.

  He looks at me puzzled. “It’s Tuesday,” he mutters matter of factly.

  “Well, I’m glad that you know what day of the week it is.” I take a quick glance at his badge. “Officer Monroe,” I say as I walk behind the counter to the register. “Extra-large Café con Leche, extra shot of espresso,” I announce out loud as I ring his order before he can even say it himself.

  I look up at him as he is staring at me as if deep in thought. “Actually, I meant it as it is pastelitos day. Gloria only makes her famous guava and coconut pastelitos on Tuesdays. Good to know that you remember my drink order though.” He smirks.

  What is with this guy? I don’t like his arrogance. He can’t be but a few years older than I am. Even though I hate to admit that he is quite attractive, something about him really irks me. “That will be five dollars even,” I say as I hand him the paper bag with his pastry inside and turn back to the counter behind me to make his drink. I can see him watching me the entire time from the corner of my eye. I hand him his drink as he hands me a ten dollar bill. I place it in the register and hand him his five dollars in change. He immediately drops it into the tip jar. Strange, one hundred percent tip, just as yesterday.

  “Thank you,” he pauses, “Not-Marisol.” Then he turns to leave.

  “It’s Vada,” I holler at him as he gets to the door. He stops and spins around with a faint smile as he nods his head and lifts his cup in the air. “Thank you, Vada.”

  Carlos wasn’t kidding when he said I would need the back-up pastelitos. But, he was wrong about it being by noon. I needed
them before it was even ten o’clock. After Officer Monroe left and the clock hit five a.m., there was literally a line out the door until every last pastry was gone. I really need to brush up on my Spanish, because I’m positive that several people were saying some not nice things about me once we ran out. Not a single person has walked in since eleven-thirty. It is almost noon now and I’m starving, so I decide I might as well sneak back into the office to eat the one last pastelito I’d saved for myself.

  Now I know why people so look forward to Tuesdays and literally stand in long lines to get one of these. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m leaning back in the tattered leather office chair with my feet propped up on the desk. I close my eyes as I pop the last piece in my mouth to savor it.

  “It’s a good thing it was me and not someone else who just saw you eat that last pastelito, or you would have a lynch mob after you.”

  The voice startles me so much that I shriek as I flip back the chair I was leaning in, falling on my back.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says in between his laughter as his grabs my arms to pull me to my feet.

  I yank my arms free from his help and set the chair back up under the desk. Police officer or not, I shoot him daggers with my eyes. Who does he think he is coming back here like he owns the place?

  He is trying to stifle his laughter, but is not doing a good job at it. “I really am sorry, Vada.”

  “Well, isn’t that courteous of you.” I try to walk around him out of the office but he blocks the doorway with his body.

  “No, courteous of me would be to tell you that you have some guava on your cheek,” he says while pointing to the left side of my face. He smiles this time, succeeding in not laughing.

  I try to inconspicuously wipe my cheek as I duck around him to get out, but he catches on and quickly blocks me with his forearm. “I’m glad you find this amusing, Officer Monroe, but I need to get back to my job.”

  “Please, call me Isaac,” he says, finally releasing me.

  “I’d rather not,” I huff at him while making my way back to behind the counter.

  He laughs all the way back to the counter and is now standing across from me on the other side with both hands in his pockets. “You are definitely not as friendly as…”

  I cut him off before he can even say it. “Marisol? No, I’m not. Not everyone is sunshine and rainbows.”

  “So what are you? A hurricane warning?”

  “More like partly cloudy with a chance of rain.” I turn around acting like I’m stocking the cups and lids so he doesn’t see how much answering that affects me.

  “I really am sorry. I know you are new to the area and I just thought that you might need a friend,” he backtracks his words as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

  I turn back around to face him and lean both palms down on the counter to look up at him. I’m only 5’2 and I’m guessing he has a good foot, if not more on me. “I don’t need any friends. Now, what can I get you? Did you want another Café con Leche?”

  His demeanor changes with my obvious attitude toward him. “I actually stopped in on a quick break to see if there were any pastelitos left, but I saw you inhale the last one, so I guess I don’t need anything anymore.” He walks away to leave just as a customer walks through the front door.

  After enduring two more hours of explaining that unfortunately there were no more pastelitos left, my shift was finally over. Thank the Lord! I quickly sweep up the small dining area before heading out.

  As soon as I get outside, I have to roll up my tee-shirt sleeves over my shoulders because of the intense heat. I wonder how long it will take before I get used to the Miami weather. While walking home I contemplate what Officer Monroe said to me today. I was a little harsh on him when he was only trying to be nice. Sometimes it is exhausting putting up these barriers to anyone I come in contact with. I can’t risk one single person finding out who I am though. It wouldn’t have been so hard if it hadn’t been for the several month long news coverage of Dominic’s murder. The combination of me missing, my blood soaked clothing found in the dumpster of the crime scene, our spontaneous marriage, and his trust fund depleted, made me the number one suspect. Not many people get to say they are on the FBI Most Wanted list. No one would believe me over Vincent Rossi. This could not have turned out more perfect for him. How many times he is going to get away with murder?

  Because of my circumstances, I can’t ever get close to anyone, as lonely as that is. I have to protect Benny no matter what it takes. If my identity were ever discovered, I would go to straight to prison and Benny would go to Vincent. I can’t ever let that happen.

  I walk through my apartment door and am not greeted by my usual tiny hug. “Gloria? Benny?” I call out.

  “In the kitchen,” Gloria shouts.

  I love her little accent, I think to myself.

  I walk through my kitchen and see Benny standing on a chair at the counter, covered in flour with a rolling pin in one hand. “We are making passeeoss,” his little voice drags out.

  I smile at him and look at Gloria who is sprinkling the fresh baked pastries with coconut shavings. I would know these anywhere now after my first Tuesday at Carlos’s Café.

  “My hijo called and said that he didn’t get his usual second pastelitos today, so we are making him a fresh batch for when he is in the area shortly.”

  I’m slightly confused as to why Carlos would be complaining about them since he seemed to despise their existence this morning.

  She sees the look of confusion in my face and elaborates. “Isaac called me this afternoon and filled me in on the new barista eating the last one,” she says with a chuckle. “I may have failed to mention that I know that new barista and told her to try one.”

  I’m now even more confused than I was before. Officer Monroe is definitely not Cuban like Gloria, so I’m trying to distinguish how he could possibly be her son. I guess people could say the same thing about Benny and me. Benny looks one hundred percent Italian, just like his father, and nothing like my true Irish heritage before changing everything about my appearance. “Office Monroe is your son?”

  “Well, Isaac isn’t really my son by blood, but he is in here,” she says, making a fist and tapping it to her chest in explanation. “I practically raised the boy while his single mother worked two full time jobs just so they could survive. That was, until she was killed in an armed robbery at the gas station where she worked the night shift.” Gloria touches her forehead, chest, and then both shoulders, making the sign of the cross. “God bless her soul. After that, I took in young Isaac as my own.”

  Well, that explains why he walked in the office today as if he owned the place. Shoot! I bet if he wanted, he could have Carlos fire me for being so rude.

  “Now that I know the two of you have met, I hope that it is okay that he stops by in a few minutes to pick up his pastelitos. I know you said you didn’t want any strangers around Benny. Isaac may seem a little rough around the edges, but I can assure you that he has the purest heart of anyone I have ever known.”

  “Please, Mommy, please?” Benny pleads. “Glory-ya told me is he is policeman! I never met a real policeman!”

  Before I can answer him there is a knock at the door. Benny hops off the chair and runs as fast as his little legs allow to the front door with Gloria right behind. I stand still in the doorway to the kitchen.

  Gloria wipes her hands on her apron and then opens the door. Officer Monroe leans down to kiss her on the cheek as he walks in.

  “You must be Benny, who I have heard so much about,” he exclaims as he stoops down to one knee in front of him. He seems to be really good with kids. At least he has one redeeming quality.

  Benny’s face lights up at the real live policeman right in front of him. He stretches out his hand for a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Officer,” he tries to say professionally.

  I can’t help but cover my mouth to stifle my laughter.
Isaac stands up and says, “And you must be his mother, who Gloria speaks so highly of,” he trails off as he recognizes who he is looking at.

  “Hello again, Officer Monroe,” I reply as I walk up behind Benny, placing my hand protectively on top of his head.

  “I told you earlier, please call me Isaac,” he says, daring me with his eyes to counter him in Gloria’s presence.

  Benny saves me by interjecting. “Can I see your police car?”

  “Sure!” Benny instinctively grabs Isaac’s hand as they walk outside.

  I turn to Gloria apprehensively. She hands over a plastic container to me in response. “Go on. I need to clean up the mess I made in your kitchen.”

  I slowly walk over toward where his police cruiser is parked. Benny is in the driver’s seat pretending to drive. I hand over the container to Officer Monroe with my lips pressed in a tight line in silence.

  He grins as he takes it from my hand. “So, I was just telling Benny that I would love to take you two to dinner as thank you for the pastelitos.”

  I shake my head in disagreement. “Gloria made them for you, so that is unnecessary.”

  Benny stops pretend driving and sticks his head out the window. “I made them too, Mommy! I want to go to dinner with the policeman, he already promised.”

  I cross my arms in irritation. “You can’t do that to a child. You can’t promise something that you can’t keep.”

  “Then don’t do that to him,” he disputes with a sly smirk.

  “I told you I don’t need any friends,” I argue at his blatant ruse.

  “Everyone needs a friend,” he retaliates.

  “Possible 10-55 on South Bayshore Drive. I need back up. Over,” his radio transmits.

  “I’m still on duty. I need to go.” He opens the door and lifts Benny out of his seat. “I’ll pick you guys up Friday at seven, okay buddy? Make sure your mommy remembers.” He ruffles his hair and gets into his car.

  “Okay,” Benny yells, giving him a thumbs up. I glare at him as he pulls away with what I could have sworn was a wink.