Rosa, My Love

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Afterwards we lay on the bathroom floor, kissing tenderly and stroking each other's hair, while I silently cursed the fact that I didn't have a single condom anywhere in the goddamn house. Slowly we disentangled ourselves and finished the cleaning, constantly glancing at each other, and pausing frequently to hug or to exchange light kisses. When Rosa left that day, I felt happier than I had in months.

That evening, Lisa was home late. I was peeved that she hadn't let me know, as I'd cooked. She was flushed with excitement when she arrived. She pecked me on the cheek and said, "Sorry honey, I'll order in pizza. But I'm working with Gary Gillespie on a big contract for Jefferson Nagle, and I guess we're going to have to put in a few extra hours." I should have felt jealous, on two counts. The Jefferson Nagle Corporation was a huge construction industry client that I'd had dealings with in the past, and the contract Lisa was negotiating was worth millions -- it should have been mine. The other reason for jealousy was her partner on the deal, Gary Gillespie. He and I had joined the firm on the same day, and had one of those complex relationships that sits on the border between close friendship and mutual hatred. He was what a colleague from London had described as a 'shyster', at least as ambitious as me, but totally ruthless, believing that the end justified pretty much any means. I knew he'd dated Lisa before she moved in with me, but I'd had the impression she'd rather come to despise him. So I was a little surprised that they'd been teamed up on the Jefferson Nagle deal; but not jealous. A few weeks earlier I'd have been kicking the furniture and throwing my cell phone at the wall over being shut out of that work, but that night I just felt slight regret, and never really thought any more about Lisa's interaction with Gary.

I was really looking forward to seeing Rosa when she came round again, but I was to be disappointed. The morning she was due I awoke to a message from her on my cell phone. She'd left it in the early hours, when she must have known I wouldn't be awake to answer it. She sounded hesitant and upset. "Hi Mark, is Rosa...look, I...sorry, I not come over no more, I quit. You tell the missus for me, yes? It just...I can't do this Mark. You an' me, we from diff'rent worlds, it jus' crazy to even think about goin' on. You got the missus, and I don' wanna be your little spic mistress. So we stop while we can. You nice guy, an' I hope I don' hurt you, but...this best, for you and me, an' my kids. 'Bye, I...'bye"

I slumped onto the bed in a daze. It occurred to me for the first time that I really hadn't given any thought to where my relationship with Rosa would go, what I would say to Lisa, whether I would say anything at all. But I knew, suddenly and with a sick feeling of absolute certainty, that I couldn't bear not to see Rosa again. I also knew that I felt things for her that I simply couldn't remember feeling for Lisa -- that maybe I never had truly felt for her. I kind of consider myself a 'new man', but I hadn't cried since my mother died; I realized then though, with amazement, that my throat had closed up with emotion and big, burning tears were trailing down my cheeks. I angrily swiped them away and stomped to the shower, cursing at increasing volume.

I wasn't prepared to tell Lisa that Rosa had gone. That day I cleaned house myself. I wasn't as good as Rosa, but I knew from her what to do. By the time I finished I was exhausted and bathed in sweat, but I'd developed a plan. I knew the name of the restaurant Rosa waited table at, I was going to go right over there and beg her not to end our relationship, pretty much before it even started, promise whatever I had to in order to change her mind. I showered, scribbled Lisa a hurried note that I'd had to go out, and prepared for my trip.

I didn't know Queens that well; mostly my trips there had been either to Flushing Meadow for the US Open tennis, or Shea Stadium for occasional Mets games, usually with a corporate client. I knew parts of the area could be pretty shady though, and I didn't want to look like a walking victim, so I hunted out from my closet my oldest jeans, a plain black T-shirt and a beat up leather jacket I hadn't worn for years. I mussed up my hair too. When I looked in the mirror I saw an upper-middle class geek looking like he was trying out for a college production of Grease. I shrugged -- it was the best I could do. I thought it unwise to take my little car, so I took a cab to Roosevelt Avenue in the Corona district of Queens. All the way I rehearsed what I was going to say to Rosa -- the cabbie must have thought I was learning my lines as Danny Zuko!

The cab dropped me at a street corner and I walked the short distance to the restaurant, La Romana Barra y Diner. It was large, paneled with dark wood, the back wall filled by a long bar, over which hung a flag with a white cross dividing red and blue quarters, some sort of crest in the center. The place was also crowded and noisy, with something that sounded like a mariachi band on speed blaring from the sound system. It took me a few seconds to spot Rosa, flitting between the tables, pausing to share a joke with a customer. She was simply dressed in a white blouse and black skirt, a little longer and more flowing than the one she wore when she came to my home. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders, and she looked quite beautiful. I felt my stomach tighten and my loins twitch at the sight of her. She didn't see me, and I made my way to one of the tables it looked as if she covered.

I was disappointed at first when a different waitress, a pretty young blond who sounded more Italian than Hispanic, came over to take my order. I nearly asked her to let Rosa know I was there, but something stopped me. I pulled on the Presidente beer the girl brought me and gazed around me at the other diners, mainly Hispanic, laughing, talking and generally having fun. I was roused from my reverie by a small gasp, and looked up to see Rosa standing over me, a steaming plate of spiced barbecue chicken in her hand. She hissed, "Mark, what you do here?" and glanced around nervously, as if our guilty secret was displayed in flashing lights for anyone to see.

I tried for a nonchalant smile, but didn't quite pull it off. "I'm eating -- well, I'm about to. Rosa, can you get a few minutes? We need to talk." She closed her eyes in despair and started to argue, but I interrupted her. "Please? This may be the most important conversation I'll have in my entire life." Blowing air from her cheeks, she slapped the plate down in front of me and said she'd see what she could do before stalking away.

Two minutes later she was back, a fluffy pale blue sweater pulled over her blouse. She sat opposite me with a wine glass filled with gently fizzing water. She gave me a weary smile and said, "Rico says to take my break now." I glanced towards the bar and saw a slim man in his fifties with a pencil moustache watching us with curiosity. Rosa spoke again. "So what you want, Mark?"

I laid down my knife and fork; suddenly I felt too nervous to eat anyway. "I think you know what I want, Rosa. No, let me finish. I think I'm...no, I know I'm in love with you. And I think you care about me too." She closed her eyes for a moment, but opened them again and continued to silently listen to me with a frown. "I...neither of us planned for this to happen, but it has and I can't escape that. I want us to be together. You were right about what you said, it wouldn't be fair to Lisa, or to you, to sneak around behind her back. That's why I'm going to tell her it's over between us." Rosa sat up straight and drew breath to speak, but I held my hand up to stall her. "I'm going to tell Lisa whether you agree to give me a chance or not; because, either way, not telling her wouldn't be fair to her either.

"I don't love Lisa. I don't think I ever really have. It's funny, you think you love someone, then you meet someone else and you realize that, until that moment, you didn't really know what love felt like before, and you know that what you felt then wasn't it. Does that make sense?"

Rosa's frown had faded, to be replaced by a look of uncertainty. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and she gnawed on it absent-mindedly. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she reached across to me and curled her fingers into mine. "Oh Mark, I...you a lovely, sweet guy, I'd be honored to be with you, but...I can't, it can't work, we from two diff'rent worlds. My life is here in Corona, my friends, Julio's just startin' to do well in school, I cou'n't just leave that behind."

I squeezed her fingers. "I'm not asking you to -- I'll come and live with you." I couldn't help smiling as her jaw dropped in astonishment. "I mean it Rosa -- I'd love in a hole in the desert if it meant I could be with you."

She shook her head, disbelieving. "But you don' know nothin' 'bout me."

I smiled again. "Sure I do -- I know all about your widowed mom, and your three brothers and two sisters, and your life in your unpronounceable village; I know about Angelina and Julio, and your time with Raimundo, and what the bastard did to you." Unconsciously she stroked her fingers down the scar on her cheek. "I know you have to use half a can of air freshener when you clean the Rosens' place to get rid of the stale cigar smell. I know how you like to go out on Monday nights with Anita, and Margarida, and Luisa. I know all that about you Rosa. And I know you're a sweet, funny, smart, beautiful lady, who I love being with, and who I can't stop thinking about when I'm not with you."

Rosa still looked amazed, and wiped a tear from here eye with a thumb. She said, quietly, "Look, I gotta get back to work. An' I gotta think. I get off at nine -- can you stay till then, walk me back to my place?" I started to nod, but she stopped me. "You can't stay over...the kids, you know."

I smiled. "Sure I know. I didn't expect to stay over, and I would be delighted to walk you home." To be honest, I felt the tiniest bit relieved: I thought it was maybe a bit early for me to meet with two kids who might possibly resent some burnt out hot-shot white lawyer trying to woo their mama.

I finished my meal and sat at the bar sipping Perrier while I waited for Rosa. The owner, Rico, seemed a nice guy, who was obviously fond of Rosa, in a paternalistic kind of way. When he discovered I was a lawyer he introduced me to one of his regulars, a guy called Alfredo Bargas. Freddy ran a local community law center, funded by the city. It sounded as if he and his team were doing a very worthwhile job, but they couldn't have helped all the people they'd have liked to if they had as big a staff as Crombie, Noble, Hansen and Petrie.

When Rosa finished we walked the few minutes to her home. She stared straight ahead of her as she said, "Okay Mark, I thought about this. You right, I like you -- prob'ly as much as you like me. I keep comin', cleanin' for you -- an' let's just see how it go with us. We should both be sure 'fore we make any major commitment. You don' have to tell Lisa now, that up to you; but if we decide this for real, then you tell her for sure. Okay?" I leant towards her, gently kissed her hair, and told her I agreed with every word she'd said. After that we walked arm-in-arm. When we reached Rosa's apartment block I kissed her on the forehead and turned to leave, but she caught my hand. "You wanna come up for coffee? Please, I like you meet Angelina and Julio."

God, I was nervous as I climbed the stairs to Rosa's second floor apartment. I knew that was going to be a major encounter: if her children hated me, I was sunk. We entered the apartment to the sound of screeching laughter and enraged bellowing. As we walked into the lounge the kids were on the couch, having a play fight over the TV remote. When they saw us they instantly stopped, Angelina leaping to her feet with an embarrassed smile, Julio scrunching down into the couch with his arms folded as he resolutely stared at the set. Angelina kissed Rosa on the cheek, and said, "Hi momma." Then she turned a curious half-smile on me. "Hi." I shook her hand awkwardly and introduced myself, hearing what sounded suspiciously like a tut from the hunched figure on the couch. Angelina offered to make our coffee, and skittered off to the kitchen.

It was stuffy in the apartment, and I slipped off my jacket. The reason was clear: the a/c wasn't working, and the landlord was clearly in no hurry to fix it. We sat and chatted, awkwardly at first, but more easily as we relaxed. The exception was Julio, who remained sullen at the end of the couch. At one point Rosa, sitting next to him, stroked his hair from his forehead, and he batted her hand away angrily. Angelina by contrast was very open and cheerful, with no trace of her mother's Hispanic accent. She enjoyed secretarial school, but was interested to find out my background, as she had ambitions to become a paralegal.

Trying to open up the conversation, I said, "Hey Julio, I saw a Mets banner in the hallway. How often d'you get over to Shea?"

The kid shrugged, and mumbled, "Now an' then."

Angelina glanced fondly towards her brother, but said in a jokey voice, "Come on J, you know you only went that one time, a couple of years back." He cast a spiteful look in her direction but then re-focused on the TV and just shrugged again.

I wasn't surprised. Ball games aren't cheap, and with no man in Rosa's life it couldn't be easy for the boy to go to games. I winked at Angelina, and said, "Huh, a Mets fan who never sees the Mets? We're gonna have to do something about that. How about, if your momma doesn't mind, we go next week? They're hosting the Dodgers."

For the first time the kid really looked at me. With a slight note of doubt in his voice, he said, "Really? Mom, would that be okay?"

Rosa absolutely beamed at me, and said, "Of course it'd be okay Julio, if Mark really don' mind." When Rosa saw me out a few minutes later she put her arms around my neck and kissed me lightly on the lips. "You din' have to do that, you know -- about the ball game I mean." I placed my arms around her waist and told her I was happy to -- I hadn't seen a game in a while, and Julio seemed like a nice kid.

Even before the door fully closed behind me, I heard Angelina squeal with laughter, "Momma, he's gorgeous!" Rosa giggled in response, and I walked down the stairs feeling like I was about to break into a chorus of You're The One That I Want. On the taxi ride home I determined that I was going to tell Lisa the truth that night; but she got home even later than me, and she looked so beat I wasn't sure it would be fair. The next day I made a couple of phone calls. The second was to Rosa, to give her the name of an air conditioning engineer who she was to call to make an appointment at her apartment, at my expense.

I hadn't told Lisa the position by the next time Rosa came over, either. I think I hadn't quite been sure she wouldn't change her mind again. At first we were nervously polite with each other; but instead of taking our coffee at the kitchen table, as we normally did, we sat on the couch. We started kissing, and one thing led to another and...I slipped my hand into Rosa's panties, a sexier thong this time, while she unzipped my fly and wrapped her hand around my pulsating dick. Then, to my surprise, she lowered her head towards it. Just before she took me into her mouth, she chuckled, and muttered, "Mmm, I like the look of this the firs' time I seen it." I thought back to that day when she'd walked in on me in the bedroom and began to laugh, but my laugh turned into a groan as her sweet lips closed over my prick and her tongue swept around the tip.

I was so aroused by the situation that I came in a matter of seconds. I started to apologize, but Rosa hushed me and kissed me. As we pulled apart, she murmured, "It's been a long time since I do that." I couldn't believe she'd never been with another man since Raimundo had walked out on her, but she shook her head. "Look at me -- who want this?" She gestured towards her scar.

Gently, I kissed the scar then traced a finger down it. "I do. With or without it, you're beautiful. It's part of what makes you you, and I love you exactly as you are."

Rosa smiled, with tears in her eyes, and replied, "Oh God Mark, let's go to bed."

I hugged her to me, and whispered, "Rosa, I don't want to rush you. It was you who said let's take our time, and I'm ready for that."

She smiled up at me. "It too difficult with a man like you. I crazy 'bout you Mark, I really wanna make love to you."

I stood and began to pull her to her feet, then smacked my head in anguish. "Shit, I still don't have any cond..." I stopped as Rosa grinned and pulled a small white box out of her bag.

When Lisa and I had sex, it was screwing -- that was how I always thought of it. She went crazy in bed, wriggling like an eel from the start, scratching, cursing, screaming, even biting and punching. What I did with Rosa really was making love. Her body was far more cushioned than Lisa's, more pleasurable to be against. And with her, instead of scratching and biting there was kneading and caressing; in place of screamed curses, whispered endearments, and sighs of pleasure. I loved suckling on her big titties, with their dark chocolate nipples. I stroked my tongue down her body, tickling her belly button before moving on to her beautiful, silky, pubic zone. As I got close, she cupped her hand across my head and whispered, "Oh si, mi amor, por favor, si!"

I rested my head on her big caramel thighs for a moment, just gazing at her lovely dark snatch, glistening with drops of juice, wispy dark hairs circling it. Then I moved closer. I blew lightly along the length, and she gasped in anticipation. I stroked my nose along her and she squeaked, her hips twitching momentarily off the bed. Then I launched hungrily into her, my tongue caressing her insides while the fingers of one hand stroked her and those of the others toyed with her clit and labia. Her thighs tightened gradually around my head, and it was only a few minutes before she came, sobbing with sheer joy.

We held each other in whispered tenderness before I stroked her pussy again for a while then, at long last, eased on my condom and entered her. Knowing it had been a while for her I did it gently, and we indulged in a long wet kiss, with my prick nestling happily inside her, before I began to pump at her in earnest, with long, slow strokes, gauging my speed and power from her expressions and her whispered words. We held each other's hands while we made love, and Rosa wrapped her legs around me, the soft soles of her feet stroking my legs. We climaxed within seconds of each other, a glorious release as we kissed again, then lay in each other's arms grinning goofily at each other.

I'd again resolved to tell Lisa that night that I wanted to break up with her, but she stormed in like the Wicked Witch of the West. The first thing she said to me was, "I gotta fly to friggin' Chicago in the morning, for this fucking Jefferson Nagle deal." She slumped into a chair, then added, "Gary's going with me. We're going to have to stay overnight." Something about her tone of voice suggested that she was testing me, that I was supposed to exhibit jealousy. As it was, I just kind of grunted in response. That made her really mad. Leaping to her feet, she almost screamed, "Jesus Christ Mark, have you heard a word I just said? God almighty, do you listen to anything I say anymore? In case you've forgotten, you're seeing the firm's physician next week, to decide whether or not you can start back at work. You know what they're calling you in the office right now? The lame duck. You'd better start getting your act together, or you'll be lucky if they let you count the fucking paper clips."