I am gasping for air by the time I reach the door to my apartment. I lean against the outside of the frame, letting it hold me up for awhile because I am simply too tired. It feels as though there is a pair of hands wrapped tightly around my throat, keeping the air from reaching my lungs.
I can't seem to let myself relax; I am a prisoner to my own heart. Sometimes it hits me so suddenly and so hard, I am nearly crippled. I am reminded of the love I have for Todd; it's not like I can ever forget, but I do forget its power. Derek reminded me of that and while I was visiting him, I had to squeeze the edge of the table just to keep from crying.
The door flies open, nearly causing me to fall flat on my face. Rachel stands on the other side with a concerned expression on her face; asking me without speaking if I am okay. I nod, only once, and step inside.
"Carlotta's mad at you." She closes the door behind her and follows me over to the sofa. "Said you don't keep in touch the way you should."
"Yeah, I know," I sigh, "I just can't find the time."
"She said you always have time for your family."
Her face does not bear the streaks of tears or the remnants of old mascara. I think today is a good day for her; when she's up, I seem to be down and vice versa. "What'd you do today?"
"Nothing much, just, you know, hung around."
The tension between us is still very thick, though it has began to fade, just a bit. I can see a little of that mysterious glint in her eyes; it's not much, but it is a start. "So, what are you up to tonight?"
"Nothing."
"Mmm, well, sometimes it's good to veg." That sounded lame, even to me. I used to know all the right things to say, now I can't say one word without thinking I may hit just the nerve to drive her over the edge. I know she's still seeing him; I know they've made up. She hasn't said anything, but there is the slightest of bounces in her step and a very quiet hum in her voice.
"Well, I'm gonna let you call Carlotta," Rachel says, standing to leave the room.
"You don't have to go."
"Oh yes I do; I don't want to hear her yelling at you."
After she leaves the room and I know she is far out of seeing and hearing distance, I begin to nibble on the tips of my fingernails. Carlotta, what can I say about her? She loves me like a daughter and protects me with the fierceness of a mother. That is why I feel so damned guilty for not staying in touch; that is why I try to put off the inevitability of talking to her.
I take a breath, hold it and slowly let it out; I repeat this several times to try and calm myself. This is so much like high school and the call I would put off for as long as I could, not wanting to deal with my father when I told him I was going to be late yet again. I finally psyche myself up enough to call her and just when I let myself believe she is not home, someone picks up the phone.
"Hello," Antonio sings into the phone, sounding as close as if he is right next door. I smile to myself, loving the sound of strength in his voice.
"'Tonio, it's Tea."
"I know who it is. You think there's someone else running around with a voice as sexy as yours."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, my friend." He chuckles on his end; I can hear him walking around, probably looking for Carlotta. There is an unhappiness in his voice I'm not used to hearing and a part of me really wants to ask what's wrong. But then, there's this other part, telling me to leave it alone and mind my own business for once.
"How are things in New York? Ready to come back here?"
"Never," I answer quickly and truthfully. "I'm here for good."
"You'll get bored."
"Not here."
"Hmm, well, it's probably for the best." His hand covers the receiver as he keeps me from hearing something. After a moment or two, he returns to our conversation, and says, "Mami is going to beat me up if I don't put her on the phone."
"Oh, well, you'd better obey her then."
"Yeah. Maybe I'll come and visit sometime? You know, we can catch up or something?"
"Sure, we'll pick a time. Now, put your mother on the phone before she draws blood." He laughs at me and gives the phone to her. There is definitely something wrong with him and the strain, I bet, it's something between him and his mother.
They have always had a slightly tumultuous relationship; best friends most of the time, and the bitterest of enemies at others. They are more alike than either of them will admit; different sides of the same stubborn coin. I have a feeling I was called to mediate between the two of them; lend an impartial ear and be that same impartial jury.
"Well, Ms. Delgado, you've forgotten about your family?" It sounds less like a question and more like an accusation.
"Hello to you too, Carlotta. How are you?"
"I would be much better had my children not forsaken me," she replies, more hurt than angry.
"Uh oh, what have the boys done?"
"Humph, between you and Antonio and your secret lives, you have completely locked me out of your lives."
I could see this conversation coming like a blazing fire surrounding me with no escape. I am surprised that it has taken this long; she gave us plenty of rope to hang ourselves. "I can't speak for Antonio, but I've been working."
"Yes, of course, but you're not too busy to talk to Viki."
"That's something entirely different; that's about my job."
Carlotta fought her insecurities the same as the rest of us, she was just better at hiding it. It's like watching someone try to do Ali's rope-a-dope, letting insecurity beat her the ropes until she comes bouncing back, lashing out at everything in her path. Just like Ali, I think. Antonio and I, I think, are her closest victims.
"Mija, we've known each other for how long?"
"My entire life, but-"
"But nothing. Tea, you used to come to me, crying because you said your father never paid any attention to you, yet you're an adult and you're doing exactly the same thing."
I hang my head in shame, knowing that she is right; I am my father's daughter. For all of my preaching about honesty and openness, I am so emotionally closed off, it's a wonder I've survived this long and not choked on my "secrets." I close my eyes and mutter a pitiful, "I'm sorry." Sometimes, I don't stop to think about how what I do affects more than just me and by the time it's brought to my attention, it's too late to repair the damage my inattention has brought.
"Are you mad at me for some reason?" Carlotta asks with the hurt permeating her voice. "When you were a child, you would stop speaking for weeks; no one would know what was wrong with you until you decided to tell them."
"I know."
"And you're like that now, Tea. You wear your heart on you sleeve when you love someone and bury your pain deep within your soul. It is not healthy."
She knows me better than I know myself at times, knows how I run and how I refuse to burden anyone else with the mess I've made of my life. I am a child again, chastised for my shortcomings, for habits that have existed far too long and are impossible to break. I want to say something, give an excuse, but nothing comes to the mind, so I sit quietly, cradling the phone against my shoulder and playing with ring that adorns my finger.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, how are you? What's going on in your life?" she asks, as if the anger that was just there had suddenly left her exhausted body.
"Um, I'm okay."
"Just okay?"
"Yes, just okay; I'm really tired."
"Ah," she responds knowingly. "And the case how is that going?"
"Well, we've had some surprises, but I think everything will be okay," I lie. This might be the first case I lose and not because I wouldn't give a winning argument, but because the opposition was rigged; he can do pretty much whatever he wants and get away with it.
"Well, I have every confidence in you." She lowers her voice and says, "I've heard that Todd has run away from home."
"Mmm."
"Well, Blair was in here the other day with that Starr…I usually like children but that one is nothing but trouble…but anyway, she said that Todd ran back to you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, and I tried to set her straight; I said the Tea that I know and love would never take him back, especially after everything he's put you through."
I'm sure she doesn't really think she is clever enough to make me let something slip? Really, it's not a big secret that we're friends; I guess the secret is that there is nothing physical going on between us. I choose not to lie, but to not answer respond to her statement.
"Tea," she says after getting fed up with the silence, "tell me you're not with him again."
Technically, I am not with him right now, so technically, I am not lying when I say, "no, I'm not with him."
Relief floods her voice as she says, "Thank God." The door of the diner opens and closes as the bell on top of the door rings. I glance at my watch and realize it should be getting busy right about now.
"Well, I should let you go." We end the conversation with the promise of keeping in closer contact. There was more she wanted to say to me, but she held it back. I shrug my shoulders, knowing she will keep her thoughts close to her heart until she's good and ready to let them out. When she does this, you have to be aware; she is much like a lawyer and when you least expect it, she springs her secrets on your, casts her web and you're trapped.
