Karl clears his throat. “It’s what—”
“What Hendrix and Clapton played,” I say much too excitedly.
He nods with approval. I bring the guitar to my chest and hug it tightly to my body, letting my tears fall to my chin. My very first guitar is fucking spectacular.
After setting the guitar back in its protective case, I jump to hug Karl again. This time, our hug is prolonged, and we forget Adrian is here and barely hear him leave when he does.
“Thank you, Karl. Really.”
25
LOLA
I’m lying down on the floor, and Isael is pretending my curly locks of hair are curvy roads for his car toys as he drives them from root to scalp. He giggles as he makes car noises. When he pulls on my hair much too painfully for about the hundredth time, I sit up.
“That’s it,” I say. “You’re gonna get it!”
“Tía, no!” He screams as I roll him onto his back and start tickling him.
“Calm down, you two. Waffles are almost ready. Go wash up,” Ileana calls from the kitchen.
“Come on,mi terremoto, let’s go wash our hands.”
Isael pouts, his little chubby cheeks twitching in the most adorable way as he discards his toy car on the carpet. “Kay,” he says and takes my hand.
As we walk back out from the bathroom, we hear a knock.
“That must be Karl,” Ileana says cheerily. “Can you get the door, Lola?”
“Sure,” I say.
I came early to help her with Isael so she could cook breakfast. Once the roads cleared, she insisted on having Karl over so she could meet him.
Karl is smiling when I open the door. He’s wearing his aviator glasses, dark denim, and a form-fitting ribbed sweater that conceals his tattoos. He’s trying to impress Ileana, I realize. He’s also holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in another. “For mimosas.”
“Thanks.” I take the bottles, and he follows me to the dining room.
“Um, Lo?”
“What?”
“You have a toy car hanging from your hair.”
I spin on my heel to look at him and sigh, resigned. “Karl, there are at least five cars stuck in my hair at the moment.”
I know for a fact Isael rolled my hair into those wheels nice and tight. I have no idea how I’m going to free my hair from the toys without resorting to cutting it.
“Isa,mi amor. Come here. I want you to meet someone.”
Isael crashes onto my leg, and I lift him in my arms. “Isa, this is Karl. My good friend.”
For all his hyperness, Isael is really shy with strangers, and he lets his little head fall to nestle on my neck under my chin.
“Hey, buddy,” Karl says, taking off his sunglasses. He holds out a fist for Isael to bump, but Isael just stares at it. I squeeze him in my arms.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him, then bump Karl’s fist. “See? Like that.”
The gesture must seem interesting because Isael sits upright in my arms and blinks at Karl’s fist. “Go ahead,” I tell him. Gently, Isael bumps his fist.