Again, Page 2

  Sheena was feisty. It was what initially had attracted him to her: her spunk. She had plenty of it, and, at first, he thought it cute, an attractive quirk. But after years of being with her, he realized that spunky could easily convert into argumentative—very argumentative and confrontational. He should’ve known. Even his mom had argued with him that how could he not have known what he was getting into when he fell for a third-year law student.

  In hindsight, however, he also knew his mother was partially right about something else. Sheena hadn’t been his first serious relationship that failed. For years, he’d been hoping to find someone who could replace Lynn in his life. She’d been his best friend since the sixth grade. She was everything he could ever ask for in a girl. Not only was she beautiful in every way, she had something so much more that he loved. Lynn knew him better than anyone else did. Even after all these years, she could nail it on the head when something was bothering him.

  Sydney had yet to meet anyone who got him the way she did. He never met anyone he could have so much fun with doing nothing more than hanging out and chatting. She was so down-to-earth, and the way she laughed at her own jokes, or rather her attempts to tell them, would never get old. The thought had him chuckling now.

  Still lost in his thoughts even as he got to his apartment building and entered the elevator, he barely noticed the young girl in there. It wasn’t until he pressed the button to his floor that he even turned to look at her. Though her pretty face was familiar, he was fairly certain she was new to his building. He’d only seen her in the recent weeks, so he smiled politely, motioning to the small laundry basket she held against her waist.

  “That time of the week, huh?”

  Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected him to address her, and she nodded a bit timidly, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “I just hope the laundry room is not as packed as it was last week.”

  The elevator came to a stop just as a long, low, buzzing noise started, and she seemed to freeze. The noise turned into a high-pitched squeal and ended in a sudden chirp that could only mean one thing.

  Flatulence.

  It almost didn’t sound real. It was too long and drawn out, but judging by how beet red she suddenly was, Sydney could only assume it was her. Since they were the only two in the elevator and he knew it wasn’t him, it could only mean . . .

  He had to refrain from smirking because the sound had been so ridiculous, but she looked so mortified Sydney didn’t have the heart to. Though the glance he gave her was so quick he hadn’t been able to make out whether she was getting ready to cry or burst into laughter. Without another word or even glance in his direction, she rushed out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, nearly colliding with the couple waiting just outside.

  Finally, he allowed himself to chuckle until he remembered that, if any lingering odor remained, anyone getting in now would think it was him. But curiously, no odor was present. None at all. In fact, the smell in the elevator was quickly overpowered by the couple who walked in after the girl had rushed out. One or both were obviously smokers.

  By the time he reached his apartment and what happened in the elevator sank in, he couldn’t stop laughing. He wondered what he might say or do the next time he ran into the poor girl. She seemed so young—couldn’t have been more than eighteen, nineteen.

  The apartment building was too expensive for a young girl like her to be living alone—even if she had a roommate her own age. So he could only hope she might be visiting a family member or something because he was certain he wouldn’t be able to refrain from laughing the next time and anytime he saw her from then on.

  Still laughing, he checked his texts. Lynn texted him in response to his earlier text confirming he’d be attending the repast on Friday. He’d duck out on his plans to get together with Diane. Another lawyer. What the hell was wrong with him? But in his defense, Diane wasn’t nearly as argumentative as Sheena. Still, seeing and hanging out with Lynn beat out hanging with Diane any day, even if he knew his night wouldn’t end with a bang.

  He texted her back, laughing once again about the elevator incident and knowing full well Lynn would get a good laugh when he told her about it Friday.

  ~~~

  Coincidence? Maybe. Who knew?

  Sydney had to do a double take the moment she walked into Romero’s backyard. Elevator girl. He looked around to see if anyone was waiting for his reaction. What happened in that elevator was still hilarious and so far out to him he had to wonder if maybe he’d been punked. But how? No way could anyone have timed what happened in the elevator so perfectly. And why would they?

  He’d already told Lynn about the incident, and she just about busted a gut hearing about it. Even now, he had to smirk when his and elevator girl’s eyes met. Yep. No doubt about it. It was her. Curiously, she didn’t look nearly as mortified as she did that day. A thought crossed his mind momentarily. Maybe he should have mercy on her and not smile even bigger. Maybe act like he didn’t recognize her. But despite her looking a little embarrassed, not to mention as surprised as he did that they were in the same backyard more than two hours away from their apartment building in Los Angeles, she smirked.

  Clearly, she was over the embarrassment and could appreciate the humor, but Sydney thought there might be more to this. Even he would still be more embarrassed than she appeared now.

  Even more surprising, after stopping to talk to a few people, she walked straight to him where he’d been briefly left alone by Lynn. Lynn’s oldest had gotten a sudden bloody nose, and she’d run off to help clean him up. Most of the other guests, like elevator girl, were still arriving.

  Smiling even bigger, Sydney watched as she approached him. She was very young and very pretty in a sweet kind of way. The first things he noticed looking at her this close and eye to eye, unlike in the elevator where he’d only glanced at her sideways, were her eyes. They were the kind that smiled even if her mouth didn’t. Though, in her case, her mouth was smiling pretty big now. He’d noticed the curves the day she’d rushed out of the elevator, and now he had an even better view. Nice curves, perfect in all the right places, but again she was obviously very young. Getting a more detailed look at her face now, he also confirmed what he’d thought even that first day. She was way too young for him to be looking at her in any other way.

  “Just so you know,” she said, already laughing and bringing her hand over her lips as she approached, “that day in the elevator? That was not me.”

  “Well, it wasn’t me,” he retorted immediately, smiling just as big.

  “No. I mean it was my phone,” she said, and even her laughter was sweet—genuine—and she was really laughing now, much as Lynn had when he’d told her about it. “My brother rigged my ringtone that day,” she said between laughs. “I didn’t know it until that moment in the elevator. Oh my God”—she laughed even more—“of course this could only happen to me. I just spent the last few days vigilantly dodging you every time I saw you in the building and planned on doing so for the rest of my life. And now here you are.” She glanced around the yard curiously. “Who do you know here?”

  Her blunt honesty and the fact that she could laugh so wholeheartedly at herself were refreshing. He’d been worried for a moment she might not mention it and they’d have an awkward introduction with both trying to pretend what happened in the elevator never had.

  “I’m Sydney. I’m a friend of Lynni’s,” he explained as her laughter began to calm, but she still wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Lynni Fierro.” He shook his head quickly, snapping his fingers. “I mean Moreno. I’ve known her since she was still Fierro.”

  Elevator girl still seemed lost. Then it hit him, and he shook his head again, feeling like a dope. “I’m sorry. I forget almost no one but me and my mom call her Lynni. You probably know her as Sarah. Angel’s wife?”

  She nodded, immediately acknowledging she knew Sarah. “I’m Emilia,”
she said, extending her hand out to him. “This is my cousin Moe’s house. Mando was my”—she paused to think about it for a moment—“second cousin? It’s complicated,” she added with a smile. “But we were related.”

  Sydney shook his head, remembering how half this family referred to Romero as Moe, even though he couldn’t remember why. “Well, I’m so sorry for your loss. I’d known Mando for a few years now. I’d gotten pretty close to him and his wife. He was a good guy. It’s a shame he died so young.”

  Her face went a bit somber, but she smirked again then brought her hand over her mouth her eyes going wide. “I’m sorry. It really is sad.” She sat down next to him, glancing around as if she just remembered they were at a repast and here she’d been laughing from the moment she first reached him. “My heart’s broken for his wife and kids, but this is exactly why I tore out of that elevator without explaining about my ringtone. I’m terrible about laughing at the most inopportune moments. Once I get a case of the giggles, I’m hopeless and it’s so bad. That day I already knew I was going to laugh so much I’d make an even bigger ass of myself than I already had. Oh, gosh.”

  She turned to Sydney when Romero walked into the backyard, holding the arm of an elderly woman. An equally elderly man held her other arm. Sydney’s eyes went from Emilia’s to the somber elderly couple then back to Emilia’s sweet eyes.

  “They’re Mando’s parents, Tia Perla and Tio Chuy. They can’t see me laughing. It would be so disrespectful, especially given how hard Tia is taking Mando’s loss.”

  Emilia glanced back at them quickly then turned back to Sydney. Those sweet smiling eyes were not helping her cause, but they sure made Sydney smile. He looked over her shoulder and watched as Romero helped Tia Perla into her seat. The woman was sniffling and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. The hefty older man with her, Tio Chuy, while he appeared saddened, was a bit more composed than she was.

  “I have to clear my head before I go over there and talk to them,” Emilia said just as Lynn walked over.

  Lynn seemed understandably confused since Emilia was sitting so comfortably next to Sydney and still trying desperately not to laugh.

  “Do you two know each other?” she asked as soon as she sat down on the other side of Emilia.

  Immediately, Emilia’s hand came over her mouth and her brows pinched. Now he understood why he hadn’t been able to tell if she was about to cry or laugh when she ran out of that elevator. The brows pinching together so tightly almost looked like she might cry, but instead she muffled her laughter under her hand. That only made Lynn look even more confused.

  “The elevator girl I told you about,” Sydney started to say before Emilia gasped.

  “Oh my God, you told her?”

  Lynn’s eyes grew big and even more confused, and then she turned to Emilia. “No!” She turned back to Sydney. “Fart girl? In the elevator?”

  Emilia’s eyes did that thing again. The same thing they’d done in the elevator that day. She looked like she might cry, but she slapped her hand over her mouth and muffled her laughing then was barely able to say it. “Fart girl?”

  “I didn’t call you that!”

  Now he had two girls at a repast busting up. A place where people where grieving for Christ’s sake! They were both in tears but not the appropriate kind. Emilia’s pinched brows looked like she might be crying—only she was laughing her fucking ass off!

  “Stop it,” Sydney whispered to them, glancing around.

  “Did he,” Emilia asked, “call me fart girl?”

  “Elevator girl,” he said before Lynn could respond.

  The giggling continued as Emilia explained what happened. Even then the laughter only continued, but they managed to bring it down a notch.

  “Tia Perla,” Sydney tried to remind them, shaking his head in Emilia’s aunt’s direction, “is still devastated, and she might hear you two.”

  “You’re fart girl?” Lynn asked.

  “I didn’t call you that!” Sydney reiterated as Emilia looked at him again, the smiling eyes now narrowed together in a still painful attempt to keep it together. He’d never seen anything like her expressive eyes. They could smile without her smiling, and at the same time her brows could pinch together so tightly like someone crying. It was as sweet as it was funny. Only unlike Lynn and Emilia, he was too worried about being disrespectful and didn’t laugh with them. Emilia hadn’t been kidding when she said she was terrible about laughing at the most inopportune moments.

  When things finally calmed down and Emilia, whom Lynn referred to as Emi, went back to explaining the ring-tone thing to Lynn, the hysterical laughter was at least brought down to shushing laughter.

  Angel, Lynn’s husband, came over as the girls were still trying to calm themselves.

  “Sydney,” he said with a smirk, “always the trouble maker. You do know this is a repast, right?”

  Sydney stood up. “Holy shit! These two,” he said, shaking Angel’s hand.

  “You don’t have to tell me.” Angel smiled even bigger, shaking Sydney’s hand firmly. “I don’t know which is worse. Look at them.” Angel pointed to the girls as they both hugged each other in a clear effort not to laugh. “They’re pathetic!”

  They finally got past the laughing as Lynn and Angel’s other family members joined them. For a while, Sydney was separated from Emi while he caught up with a few of the others he hadn’t seen in a while. Then she came over and took a dramatic, deep breath.

  “Okay, I think I’m composed enough to go talk to Tia Perla now.”

  “You sure?” Sydney asked apprehensively.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I talked to her at the hospital the day Mando passed, but I really should go over and say something to her now.” She glanced back at her aunt who, for the moment, was sitting alone. “Look at her; she looks so sad.”

  “I haven’t given his parents my condolences either,” Sydney said, peering over at the solemn old woman. “I should go talk to her too, but”—he glanced back at Emi—“I don’t know if I wanna go with you.”

  She turned back to him with a playfully offended smirk. “No, c’mon,” she said, touching his arm. “I’ll be good. I’m not gonna laugh in the poor mourning woman’s face. Give me a little credit.”

  “Go,” Lynn nudged him. “You’ll be fine. I’d go with you guys, but I have to check on the baby.”

  Sydney followed Emi, who walked over to where her aunt sat. The moment the woman saw them approach, her expression fell and Emi hugged her.

  “Ay, mija. My heart hurts so much.”

  Emi kept her arm around the woman, nodding. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s so hard when they’re taken too soon.”

  “Too soon,” her aunt repeated.

  Sydney leaned in and held his hand out. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Romero. I was a friend of Mando’s. He’s going to be missed very much.”

  “Very much,” Mrs. Romero said, taking his hand and cupping it in between her own. “Parents should never have to bury their own children. I just don’t understand why he was taken from us so young. I’m still so angry with God. I prayed and I prayed.”

  She began to cry as Sydney’s own throat began to tighten. Glancing at Emi, he could see she too looked a little teary-eyed now. They exchanged a sad glance as her aunt continued.

  “I kept asking God, ‘Why my Armando? Why Lord? He’s so young and he has little ones who need him here. Why?’” She fisted her hand in the air as her words got angrier. “I said take Chuy if you have to take someone!”

  Emi’s head jerked up, and her eyes met Sydney’s in wide-eyed panic. Her lips quivered as her eyes pinched in that familiar way like she might cry but not the appropriate way.

  “Chuy’s lived his life. My Armando still had so many years ahead of him,” her aunt went on, and Emi covered her mouth, closing her eyes and shaking her head, but Sydney could see she was losing it.

  He touched Emi’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, b
urying her face at his side, shaking as her aunt continued with her argument with God.

  “Chuy’s overdo anyway with all the drinking and smoking that man does.”

  Emi tightened her grasp on Sydney as she laughed, but Sydney could tell she was trying to make it sound like crying. It was a struggle even for him not to crack a smile, so he just nodded and, at one point, squeezed his eyes shut, thankful Lynn hadn’t walked over with them or they would’ve all been goners.

  Finally, the woman stopped with her rant and patted Emi’s shoulder. “There, there, mija,” she said, wiping her nose with her handkerchief. “We just have to be strong and trust that the Lord has his reasons for who he takes and when.”

  Nodding, Emi finally looked up, her eyes still dripping with real tears, but Sydney knew better. She took a deep breath, pressing her lips together before attempting to speak. Emi managed a few consoling comments before excusing them both, and they walked away.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped when they were far away. “Take Chuy?” She giggled. “Who says that? I almost died!”

  “You’re gonna get yourself all worked up again,” Sydney warned.

  She nodded quickly, taking a deep breath. “I know. I know.” She turned to him and touched his arm. “Thank you, by the way, for letting me pretend to cry on you back there.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m just glad she stopped when she did. I wasn’t sure how much longer you could pull off the crying act.”

  “Oh, not much longer at all.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I should’ve been ready for something like that from my aunt.”

  It amazed Sydney how quickly this young girl he knew nothing about before a few hours ago, except that she was the elevator girl, had warmed up to him so quickly. What was crazier was how fast he felt so comfortable with her. The kids and the rest of the family kept Lynn busy, the person whom he thought he’d be spending the most time with today. Instead, he was now spending most of his time with Emi, and he was content with that.