July (The Year of The Change Book 1) (4 page)

The men shook hands and Dad meandered back to us and got in the van. My heart still pounded and it wouldn’t calm until we were back on the interstate and this little dust bowl was a memory.

He chuckled. “The coach wishes he could post you at the finish line. He said that was the fastest he’d seen his team run all summer.”

I didn’t laugh with the others, and Sue didn’t, either. My heart refused to find its normal rhythm and all I could think about was how my little sister could’ve been hurt, that it was all my fault and Sue would never forget it.

Tam moved to her seat and buckled in. Her eyes were still wide as the shaking subsided.

Starting the car, Dad drove us out past the track team. They gawked, their faces pressed against the windows. We gawked at them. I, from a slouched position with my face covered. The young one, Bahr, made a lunge for the door. All the others held him back. When the brunette with braces raised his arm, I couldn’t watch any more.

Tam wasn’t scared now. "Did you see how fast those boys were? I thought for sure they were going to catch us, but Sylv was faster!" She picked up her MP3 player from the floor where it had fallen. "I didn't see any boys in the van when we passed it to go see the cows. Did you see the cows? They were big, I --"

Tuning her out, I let my head flop back and closed my eyes, wishing I had a large family sized basket of fries with chocolate dipping sauce.

How could Dad drag me away from my home where I was safe? This year had been hard enough and now he had me on the road,
exposed
. If he really cared about me I would be at home in Oklahoma, not being chased in the middle of nowhere in Kansas. I swallowed back the tears. No use in crying.

Around nine that evening – about fifteen minutes after the twins stopped talking about the track team and the cows - we found a motel north of Salinas, Kansas. The bed was lumpy. I settled in and sleep came quickly along with a dream of Calvin crying while the track team ran back and forth behind him. My heart ached that Calvin cried, but there was no way to comfort him. His tears tortured me all night.

Crete

I awoke in the shabby motel room and couldn’t shake the dream or the sad feelings it evoked. I’d left behind the greatest guy in the world and broke his heart in the process.

Sluggish, I couldn’t get moving fast enough to make Sue happy. Then again, a jet couldn’t move fast enough to please her. Even so, we were on the road by eight and, as expected, arrived in Crete, Nebraska by noon where we were scheduled to stop for lunch.

As we pulled onto Thirteenth, the main street, Dad spotted a brightly painted Mexican restaurant, called Los Marin. The parking lot was only half full and Dad was in the mood for a good spicy meal. My stomach didn’t care what it tasted like as long as there was lots of it. We pulled in and parked next to a flashy red Cadillac.

My stomach gurgled for me to hurry as I stepped out of the van and stretched to loosen my muscles. In the beginning I never thought my stomach could get so insistent it would rule me, but it had. And it would be queen until the end of The Change. After that, it would have to go back to being mostly unnoticed, my grandmother promised it would. My stomach laughed at me.

Behind the van I waited for the others and scanned the area for possible problems. Most of the people walking around were Hispanic, which made it feel a little bit like home. I smiled. The town was greener than home with trees everywhere. Across the road, a group of six boys walked down the sidewalk. They probably ranged in age from twelve to sixteen. My stomach rolled. All the unsuspecting boys had shiny black hair and dark brown eyes. They were cute and playfully pushed each other as they kidded around. The tallest, in the middle, walked with confidence. A chubby cheeked boy, a head shorter, waved his arms and spoke almost as much with his eyes as he did with his smiling, overactive mouth. What could he be talking about that had him so animated he practically hopped alongside the tall boy? Whatever it was, the other boys laughed. Thankfully, they were not aware of me and I wanted to keep it that way.

Dad must’ve seen them, too, for he urged the twins to move faster. I’m sure he didn’t want a repeat of the Kansas track team and neither did I. My stomach didn't care about the boys. It wanted me in the restaurant,
NOW
.

My father herded us to the entrance. From over my shoulder I could still see the tallest one. He was cute and I wondered what he would’ve been like as a boyfriend. There were plenty of Hispanic kids at my school in Oklahoma. None of the boys had ever shown an interest in me. They weren’t the only ones not interested. Well, not until The Change caused problems.

The bell over the door jingled as we rushed in. I slammed face first into the aroma of sizzling peppers and tortillas. My mouth watered as my stomach sounded off. It wanted more than a whiff. It was hungry like always and didn't like being teased.

The noise in the restaurant quieted upon our entrance. Everywhere I looked, beautiful brown eyes watched us amid quiet whispers. The silence communicated loudly that a pale, blonde haired family was an oddity here.

A teen girl, about my age with beautiful black curly hair, showed us to a large table in the back. She, too, wore glasses. Hers were stylish and made her look sophisticated unlike my cheap generic ones.

Sue always lectured us on not getting the name brands. With as much as it cost to feed me these days, I’d chosen the least expensive pair that looked halfway presentable on me. It didn’t really matter because nothing was going to make me look anything but plain. If my grandmother was right, next year I wouldn't need them. That is, if I didn't fail.

Dad pulled me close as we walked to our table. Sue put Tam between her and Dad before I could sit there. She would rather – if anyone sat between her and her husband – that the twins were in that protected position. They were younger and deserved to be sheltered.

After handing us menus the hostess cleared her throat. "Your server will be right out." She had only a slight accent.

With any luck our server would be female, too, so I could relax and enjoy my meal. The menu was printed, for the most part, in both English and Spanish. Not that it mattered. All my stomach wanted was volume. I looked for the dishes that listed the most ingredients and busied myself trying to match the Spanish to the English words.

The other customers watched us. From stolen glances at the other patrons I saw their eyes appraise us. They varied from disinterested to curious. The novelty wore off quickly and as if someone turned the volume back up, their conversations returned to normal.

Have I mentioned yet that my luck isn’t very good?

Our waiter came over with a big smile and my head snapped up. He was about twenty with curly black hair that threatened to fall over his sparkling brown eyes. White teeth showed bright against dark smooth skin. He was exotic and tall and good looking. I couldn’t help, but stare.

“Hello my name is Shalem. I will be your waiter. What would you like to drink?” He had the cutest dimples.

His accent was even more subtle than the hostess' and his deep voice vibrated my bones. Dad tapped me on the arm and frowned. I stopped staring and reminded myself to breathe.

We ordered our drinks and I watched his broad shoulders as he left, so far, so good. He wasn’t affected. I went back to trying to figure out the Spanish words on the menu and kept my attention at our table to avoid the curious glances. I didn’t mind their friendly curiosity. I was just afraid there might be one among them that would become affected and it wasn’t something to take a chance on. Why didn’t I pay more attention in Spanish? It would be nice to know what they were saying. That way I could be ready when it was time to run if some guy lost control.

Sue had insisted I take Spanish as a freshman and I failed it miserably. She forced me to retake it last year when I started my sophomore year. I didn’t do much better. It wasn’t until the teacher convinced her I didn’t have an aptitude for language that she finally gave up and let me switch to another elective class after the holidays. The worse part about the failure was I wanted to learn Spanish and tried very hard. I thought speaking two languages would make me special.

Shalem returned with our drinks gripped in his long fingers. He served the others before coming around to Dad and me. As he leaned between us and placed our glasses on the table, he froze.

Dad and I looked at each other. We knew that look all too well. I tipped as far away from Shalem as my chair would allow. Tim even leaned away to give me more room. Meanwhile, Dad tried to get our waiter's attention to no avail.

Shalem was stunned.

He slowly turned his head to me and stared. A slaphappy grin spread across his gorgeous face. “
La encontré
.”

His voice was deep and made my blood pulse. I didn’t care what he said, and only hoped he would speak some more.

Dad put his fingers in his water and flicked them at the affected waiter. “I think we’re ready to order.”

Shalem didn’t move. “
Que ojos bonitos
.” He whispered as he stared at me.

I really wished I’d done better in Spanish. I looked away, fairly sure what he was thinking, even if the exact words weren’t known.

Dad tugged at Shalem’s sleeve. “We’re ready to order.” He fought back a grin.

I was so glad he could find humor in the situation because I sure couldn’t. Until this trip he hadn’t dealt with the affected boys like I had. We’d see how much amusement he gets from it by the time we get to Alaska.

Shalem came to his senses enough to turn to Dad. “What can I get you?” His eyes slid back to me, his smile lopsided.

I kept my face in the menu. I wanted to stare at him and drink in the loving eyes that I had to avoid. My soul was so desiccated I couldn’t swallow any more dry loneliness. I wanted to find out if he was as kind as he seemed.

His breath tickled the top of my head. “
Con cabello rubio y bello
.” He forced his attention back to my father who pointed at the menu.

Dad ordered for all of us and Shalem wrote it down. I hoped he got it right. Not that I wouldn’t eat whatever he brought, nevertheless the others should get what they wanted. When our order was complete he hurried off to the kitchen, repeatedly glancing back over his shoulder.

A short time later, bored of the drink menu, I saw Shalem come out of the kitchen dragging a petite woman with the same adorable dimples. I tried not to be obvious as I peeked at them over the dessert menu that I’d grabbed from the middle of the table. The woman with Shalem had beautiful, thick black hair that was twisted up in a bun. Her attractive face showed concern. Could this be his girlfriend?

He pointed at us. “
Esa es mama
.” He smiled broadly, satisfied with something.

He’d called her mama which obviously meant mother. Or at least I hoped it meant mother.

His mother, I hoped, turned her mouth down and nodded. “
Es bonita, pero puede cocinar?
”

The way the small woman stared I worried she didn’t like what she was seeing. Since she was looking at me, it wouldn't have been a surprise.

His eyes shot wide as he turned to the small woman.
“Claro que si. No tanto como ti pero puede enseñarla.”
The way he hugged her, she must’ve been his mother or his sister, aunt maybe? That thought should not have brought such relief.

She shrugged and tilted her head from side to side.
“Ella parece que tiene salud…aun fuerte.”
I tried again not to watch as she tipped her chin. “…
pero vamos a ver
.” What could the woman be pondering? Maybe I didn’t want to know.

“
No te preocupes mamá, ella es perfecta.
” His eyes caught mine as I looked up and knew I wasn’t just fooling myself, as they looked so lovingly. I wanted them not to be glazed, but they were.

He was affected and I could imagine what he was saying to her even if I couldn’t understand. My face was already scarlet and the heat of the blush spread throughout my body.

The woman hit him with the back of her hand. “
Hay que cuidarlas si quieres la atención de ella.
” Shalem’s beautiful face became concerned as the woman went back to the kitchen. I wondered what she’d said to make his brow crumple like that.

He rushed over. “While your food cooks, is there anything I can get you?”

He stared at me, even though Dad answered.

“Yes, we would like some more chips and salsa.” He handed our waiter the empty basket with the salsa bowl.

Shalem took the dishes, never taking his smoldering eyes from me. I wanted to view those hot bubbling pools of chocolate up close and personal. I shook myself and looked away.

My stomach grumbled for more. Up until now I’d controlled myself. The next basket was doomed. I was so hungry and my stomach didn’t handle being titillated by the wonderful aromas that floated around it.

Shalem was quick and brought two baskets this time, the second he placed in front of me with a flourish.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

Oh yeah, you can get me a wedding ring
.

His beautiful face was only inches from mine. Oh how I wanted to reach out and touch his perfect lips, to find out if they were as hot as his eyes. I was a good girl, though, and leaned as far from him as I could and shook my head. I sure hated being a good girl.

An older couple, at the next table called his name and waved their arms, to no avail. He didn’t notice anything except me. I drew my attention to their table so I could think of something besides his lips.

I pointed to them. “I don’t need anything, but they do.” If only he would move, so I could breathe again.

He looked up, his eyes narrowed, his red lips a straight line and if looks could kill … oh my gosh. “Of course, I’ll be swift.” He turned for the other table and frowned at the small round old man. “
Qué quieres Fredo?
”

“Quiero más refresco y patatas y que te dejes de hacer tonterías.”

I couldn’t help watching as the old man whip his hand back and forth at the younger man.

Shalem stood up straight.
“No hago tonterias. Encontrado la mujer de mis suenos.”
He huffed and set his jaw.

What had made him so mad at the inoffensive man. I hoped they weren't talking about me. Who was I kidding? Of course they had to be talking about me.

Sue tapped me with her foot and shook her head at my rudeness. Before I could avert my gaze the old man turned and looked me up and down. Yep, they were definitely talking about me. In search of somewhere to stare I caught the eye of a young short man with deep black eyes two tables away. He sat with a young, pretty woman who hit him on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

She scowled.
“No la mires.”
She folded her arms over her ample chest.

I quickly avoided his gaze. There didn’t seem to be a safe place to look so I studied the colorful posters of bull fighters that hung around the room.

Shalem whispered harshly at the old man.
“Necio viejo, no la mires.”