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“What sort of things does Carmen like?” I heard Isaac ask. “I know your wife is a fan of flowers if your yard is any indication, but does Carmen, um, like flowers?”
I was going to kill Winnie. She’d put these thoughts in Isaac’s head. Now he thought he wasn’t doing his job as a florist or something.
Papá chuckled. “You’re lucky I’m not a jealous man. My wife loved those flowers. I keep hearing her talk on the phone to her friends about them. But Carmen… she doesn’t like flowers so much. There was a boy. I won’t call him a man, he doesn’t deserve that title. He brought many flowers to Carmen. But he didn’t love her. Even though he said he did. Many times.”
I rubbed my chest. Papá had a way of getting right to the heart of things. I didn’t like to think about my last ex and his cutting words. Thinking about him gave him power to hurt me all over again. It was true. I didn’t like flower gifts anymore, especially long-stemmed red roses, though I’d never planned to admit as much to Isaac.
Papá continued. “Carmen has a sweet tooth. For sweet things and sweet words. But you have to mean them.”
“I don’t think she’ll accept sweet words from me.”
“Ah, you’ll find a way.”
And now I was going in. That was enough Team Isaac talk to last a lifetime. I made a loud zipping noise with my coat and shuffled into the room, looking up at the two of them with award-winning surprise. “There you are. Sorry I took so long. You ready to go?”
“Of course.” Isaac stood up and touched Papá’s shoulder. “Should we bring you back anything?”
“I couldn’t eat a single bite. Francesca doesn’t know what else to do for me, so she keeps bringing me food.” As if afraid she overheard, he added louder, “Which I love.Te adoro, Francesca.”
“Te quiero, Eduardo,” Mamá called back from the kitchen. “Mucho, mucho.”
“Come on.” I tugged on Isaac’s arm. I didn’t like the dreamy half-smile that came over his face, like he was gathering inspiration from my goofy parents. “I’ll even let you play navigator for real this time.”
“We’re taking your Bug?” he asked.
“Sí, señor. I just need to text my girlfriends real quick and let them know you’re coming along.” I’d meant to do it earlier, but it was another thing I’d neglected with my one-track felting mind. I texted them while we walked outside and over to my car.
Carmen: Ladies, I’m bringing a guy friend along. We’ll be a few minutes late.
Ally: Who’s this now?
Kimber: Yeah, is this like a friendzone thing or a real guy friend, where the thought of kissing him makes you throw up in your mouth a little?
Carmen: Very funny.
No, the thought of kissing Isaac did not make me queasy, at least not in the way they were talking about. But I wasn’t going to admit that.
Carmen: We both have dates with other people this weekend if that tells you anything.
I couldn’t help glancing up at Isaac, who was opening my driver door for me, fearing he might be reading along again, but he was oblivious. At least, until he noticed me staring at him with my phone clutched in my hands. And then he smiled. Curse my lack of a poker face.
“What are they saying about me?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Mm hmm. They’re asking if I’m hot, aren’t they? Tell them I’m hideous.”
“Whatever. That’s not what they’re asking.” Not exactly. But yeah. That was information they’d definitely want. And it made me uncomfortable in ways I didn’t care to think about.
I left my messages app and opened up Maps, handing my phone over to Isaac once he was done folding himself into my tiny car. Next time we’d take his truck, but there was no denying my Beetle was great for tight parking situations.
Of course, right then, a text from Kimber popped up.
Kimber: Is he good-looking?
Isaac laughed.
I reached over and swiped the message away so only the map showed. “We’re heading for the north side of Heritage Park.”
