Living in a Telenovela

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Natalie is living in a personal soap opera.
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SkylerLuv
SkylerLuv
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******

"Your grandfather is dying." I hear my mom say through all of the chaos.

I drop the flowers that I am holding and feel my heart stop.

"What?" I gasp.

Jennifer, my assistant, stops dead in her tracks and looks at me with wide eyes. It is not every day that I am seen flustered. I am always ten steps ahead and keep calm during hectic situations. Considering my client's wedding is tomorrow and we have yet to finish putting the final touches in the ballroom, I need to keep my cool. Jennifer's concerned green eyes keep staring at me until I snap at her to pick up the white flowers I dropped.

I hear my mom sniffle through the phone. Jennifer sends Paul a pleading look and he rushes to my side. I wave him away and everyone continues to work on decorating the place. My feet are killing me and I feel my shoulders wound up so tight I know no massage in the world can help. Not until I get through tomorrow. I remember to breath and clear my throat.

"What?" I repeat again.

"Your father thinks I'm overreacting but you should see him! He's barely eating anything and just lays in bed."

I rub my hand against my forehead. My grandpa has never been one to sit around as the day goes by. He is the type of old person that gets up before the sun and doesn't go to sleep until after everyone else. Considering I was his favorite and only grandchild growing up it is a little heartbreaking to hear his days are coming to an end. I haven't seen him in over a year. I wonder if he's putting on a show just to have me visit. It wouldn't be the first time. My mother also didn't get her dramatic side from my grandmother. It has been six years since she passed away. I thought my grandpa would have found someone by now. So him being alone makes this even more tragic.

"You have to come immediately!" She no longer sounds fragile. She is desperate.

My mother and I have never had the best relationship. She is neurotic and anxiety driven and I have tried avoiding any type of contact with her if I could help it. Once I moved out of the house at the age 18, I have never looked back. My father completely understands he wishes he had the guts to leave.

"Mom I have to be here for my clients wedding. If all goes well, this will be all over the newspapers, blogs, websites, and I will have stellar reviews. I need this to push my career into the next level."

I snap my fingers at some idiot carrying beige tablecloths. He stops dead in his tracks and looks frightened. Paul rushes to my side and starts to let him have it. How can he be so stupid as to think those would be placed at the head table? After more yelling he scurries off. I give Paul a grateful glance and try to focus on what my mom is saying on the other line.

"I don't care if this wedding is for the queen of England! If you don't show up tomorrow and your grandfather dies, it will be on your conscience. I am catching a plane there tonight." She hangs up.

I huff and groan. This could not have been worse timing.

******

I feel disoriented when I get out of the taxi.

The dirt is just starting to settle as the driver leaves when I see someone coming out of the house. It's a Spanish style home with a wrap around patio. The roof is a light brown, the shutters are the same shade but the actual house is light pink. The sunset in the background feeds into my nostalgia. It feels like I'm back in time to when I was eight and my grandmother is about to come out through the front door.

Instead there is a tall brooding figure on the front steps. His tank top does a poor job of covering his ridiculously muscular chest. His arms are ripped and there is even some muscle jutting out of his shoulders. His lean waist is covered up by worn out jeans that are stuffed into work boots. His skin is dark and tan. His midnight black hair is long enough to brush shoulders. He has a guarded look.

"Necesitas ayuda?" His voice is deep and intimidating. I must look lost.

I feel my body shiver.

I shake my head, at a loss for words. Who is this person?

"I think you have the wrong house." He says with a slight accent. He stops walking and stands on the front porch.

I snap back to reality. This stranger probably thinks I am some lost ditzy, blonde. Anyone who looks at me will automatically assume I am an all American girl who has probably never stepped foot outside of the country unless it was to some touristy spot in Europe or wherever my ancestors came from. With my blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin it is not a random assumption. I see him taking me in. I am a lot shorter than him, my legs are short and stumpy and the dress I chose to come in doesn't look flattering on me. Not like I really had a choice, I rushed here as soon as the wedding was over and left Paul in charge. His eyes stop at my breast and I feel a slight blush. When was the last time a random stranger checked me out?

I clear my throat. "No, estoy en el lugar correcto. Dónde está Don Luis?" I ask for my grandfather.

His jaw drops, just like I intend. It always catches people off guard when they catch a gringa speak in perfect Spanish. Even though I am a bit rusty. The Spanish telenovelas are the only exposure I have to Spanish nowadays.

"Who are you?" He keeps speaking English. He doesn't appreciate my ability to catch him off guard.

I start to get irritated. The flight here was as long as I remember it and the cab ride here was even longer, I have no patience left.

"Who are you?" I spit back. I pick up my bags and move towards him. He moves out of the way and watches me walk to the front door. He doesn't even offer to open the door for me or help me with my bags, asshole.

I throw them near the entrance once I get the door open and look around. Everything looks the same. The house is colored a nice rose pink, after my grandmother complained that the white walls were too boring. The oak wood floors match well with the walls. I quickly peak into the living room but don't see anyone there. The couches are the same old tacky moss colored ones they have had for years. I try to walk straight ahead to the back, where my grandpa's room is. A hand wraps around my arm and pulls me back. I turn and find myself staring into deep brown eyes. He's leaning over me, his broad shoulders uncomfortably close to mine. I feel his body heat radiate off him. My breathing is the only sound between us, unless he can hear my heartbeat as well.

"Where do you think you're going, Gringa?" He's looking down at my lips.

I look down at his and I am tempted to kiss him. His lips look firm and unforgiving. The way he is holding me so close is starting to mess with my head.

"Esteban, stop bothering my poor granddaughter."

The spell is broken and I finally react. I push him away from me and turn to see my grandpa standing in the middle of the hall. He has a playful smile on his lips and opens his arms to me. I feel childish for running to him, but once I feel his arms around me I don't care. I forget about the stranger behind me for a second and just let myself feel happy in the moment. I am here. He's not dead. He actually doesn't look anywhere near dead. I pull back to take a good look at him.

His once full head of blonde hair is now almost white. He has a couple of more wrinkles since last year but other than that he looks the same. He's standing straight and breathing fine. After I do another check up he chuckles.

"I'm not a ghost." He hugs me again. "This is a nice surprise, I wish I knew you were coming. I already gave your mom your old room, since Esteban took hers. She should be back soon, she's visiting Margaret-"

I am trying to understand everything he is saying but at the mention of the strangers name I pull away. "Who is he?" I pretend he is not standing a couple of feet away from us.

"He's Petra's son, I hired him a couple of months ago to help me around the farm." Did I forget to mention my grandpa lives on a farm? I loved coming here as a kid and taking care of all of the animals. Not so much now. Right now I have my own 'farm' to run a million miles away from here. I try to ignore my urge to check my phone for any texts from Paul. I need to focus on him now.

"I want you to fire him." I demand immediately.

My grandpa chuckles at me, the he usually does when I throw a temper tantrum. "And why is that?" He humors me.

"He's extremely rude. I don't like him."

I feel the stranger walk our way but I turn my back to him and look at my grandfather. His faded blue eyes are laughing at me.

"I'll be in my room if you need anything, Don Luis." He walks down the hall and turns right, into the room that used to belong to my mom.

"Papa, I don't want him here. At least not while I am here." My grandfather always prefers when I refer to him as dad and I've done it since I was little. It is second nature.

"Are you going to get up at four in the morning to help me feed the pigs?" He laughs again at my facial expression and hugs me again.

******

"I can't believe I fell for it!" I accuse my mother the next morning. I would have said something last night but they got home too late and I was already asleep. It was the first night I had gotten more than four hours of sleep. It was somewhat hard trying to go to sleep at first knowing that Esteban's room was right next to mine. Had my mother not taken my room I would be across the hall, instead I am in the guest room with only a wall separating me from those dark eyes. I had to double-checked the door was locked before I was finally able to close my eyes.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic." My mom says as she reads over her magazine. We're all in the kitchen drinking coffee. My grandpa is sitting next to me holding my hand as I glare at my mom. My father is next to my mom texting on his phone. This spontaneous trip is not good for his job either.

My mother's natural blonde hair is dyed a copper color that makes her already fair skin look even more translucent. Her alert blue eyes look very striking against her new hair color choice. She has always been a looker. The wrinkles around her eyes are barely noticeable because of all of the face creams she uses at night. The wrinkles in her hands don't deceive me though. Growing up with her had me constantly accessing my own looks and body shape. It wasn't until I moved out that I was able to work on becoming more comfortable with my flaws.

"This wedding is career defining for me, and I nearly missed all of it because you said Papa was dying!"

My grandpa's eyes nearly pop out. He looks at my mother confused.

She rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her tea. "I expected you here yesterday, if he had died you wouldn't have gotten to say a proper goodbye."

My grandpa shifts in his chair. "Why am I being killed off so soon, Ana Barbara?" He's trying to make light of the situation. He hates when his girls argue, which is more often than not. He's also the only one who uses my mother's full name once in a while. She prefers to be called Ana.

"Dad, tell your wife she probably just caused me my career." I know he's going to choose to be on neutral ground but with my grandpa not picking a side I have to at least try to get my dad to see reason. My father's black hair is starting to go gray but he still looks handsome. He was born in Idaho and doesn't have any living relatives left. That's probably why he gets dragged around to most of our family gatherings. His job has him constantly working all the time so he has let himself go, his beer belly is not quite big but my mom points it out every time they fight. He holds up a finger as he types something else on his phone. I don't know if he's doing that because he's really busy or because he doesn't want to be dragged into this.

Just then Esteban walks into the kitchen. He's wearing the same thing he was yesterday but I can tell he changed. The jeans are a darker shade and the tank top is freshly white. I try not to stare at his muscles as he goes to the sink to get some water. This man could be a supermodel. His body is just hard to look away from.

My mother catches me looking and narrows her eyes. "Have you met Estaban?"

I turn away from him and ignore her question to talk with my grandfather instead.

"Don Luis," I hear Estaban say from the sink. His deep rumble sends a delicious shiver right to my core. I squirm. "I am going to go up to the store today. Do you need anything besides the items on the list?" His accent has my mouth watering. I'm used to hearing rich guys with proper grammar and nothing exciting about their voice.

"I don't, but I know Natalia usually goes there to pick up some things after she arrives here." My grandpa nods in my direction.

"I'll be in the car." He says and leaves.

"I don't need to go." I walk to the sink with my plate. Juana enters the kitchen and gives me a big hug. She has been the housemaid since before I was born. I have been telling my grandfather to let her retire, she's looking older and older every time I come but he insists that she cannot sit still and wants to keep working. Her dark eyes are merry. She loves that we're all here with my grandfather.

"I'll wash that for you." She takes the plate from me.

"Don't be stubborn. I know the first thing you do when you get here is go to the store so that you don't have to make that long trip again while you're staying here." He gives me a sweet smile.

I want to tell him that I don't plan on staying here past tomorrow but the way he is looking at me has me reconsidering. I really want to get back to work, and now that I know he's okay, I can. But what if this time next year he's not around? I would regret leaving here and not spending any time with him. Who knows how much longer we have to be together. Plus Paul and Jennifer think I am going to be here for at least a week.

"I don't want to go." I say finally.

"He's already waiting in the car. Make sure you guys get some of your favorite beers while you're out." He winks at me. My grandpa is all about having a good time.

I put my hands up and stop arguing. I am going to be on my best behavior while I'm here.

******

The car ride to the store is filled with me catching up on work.

I am glued to my phone returning calls and answering emails. Estaban keeps looking at me through the rear view mirror and I find myself blushing under his scrutiny. He looks both amused and annoyed. I want to stick out my tongue but that would just encourage him to make small talk. Once we pull into the parking lot of the closest convenience store I rush out from the back and avoid walking by his side. Don't need some nosy person from my past trying to start rumors while I am here. These people need a life.

There's an old ranchera playing through the speakers when I walk in. I want to laugh because this is unheard of where I live now. The AC must be broken. The fan that greets me near the entrance just blows hot air my way. I pull my hair into a ponytail glad to only be wearing a tank top and shorts. It is going to be a hot week.

It takes me less than thirty minutes to get everything that I need. I push the small cart through the pack tight isles. My ears perk up when I hear Esteban's low chuckle. I turn the corner and see him flirting with the cashier. He has his stuff bagged and ready to go but his eyes keep traveling to her breasts, which are out on display. Disgusting. I clear my throat and begin to place my items on the counter. Esteban shifts away so that we make no contact. He still stands close enough to make me feel self-conscious.

"Entonces esta es la nieta de Don Luis? Ni que sea tan bonita."

My mouth falls open and I see the fear creep into her eyes. She, just like Esteban, would not expect a blonde hair, blue eyed woman to understand them if they spoke in Spanish. She definitely did not expect me to understand that she said 'I am Don Luis granddaughter who is not all that pretty'.

"You're Beatriz's daughter right?" That had to be it. Everyone in this small town knew my grandfather and treated me with some respect. She has a round face that would fool most into thinking she is innocent but the look she was wearing with Esteban was enough to let me know she knows a thing or two about men. She also has to be older than 18 because I know Beatriz's youngest was born around the time my great grandmother died. I never had an interaction with this girl, and I hope I never have to again.

She lowers her head and continues to scan.

I want to reach over the counter and slap her. I bite my lip to hold back my insults. This young, ignorant, bitch is just trying to play it cool in front of this other asshole. Esteban is having a ball barely containing his laugh. I will never stoop so low as to provide entertainment at my expense. She gives me the final total and I swipe my card so fast she cowers back.

"Make yourself useful." I shove some of my bags in Esteban's arms. He also picks up the bags he has and gives the annoying girl a charming smile. I want to slap him too.

******

The next morning I wake up hours after the sun has been up.

I'm surprised my grandfather hasn't woken me up yet. It is almost disrespectful to sleep in when there is so much to do. I briefly worry that he is still in bed, possibly getting sick like my mother said. I get up from the bed and put on my robe. Walking barefoot, I open the door and peak outside to make sure no one is out there. I tip toe past my old room, giving Esteban a stink eye as I approach his door and walk faster until I reach my grandpa's door. I am relieved to see him sitting on my grandmother's favorite rocking chair. I walk over to him and sit on the floor right next to his legs. He's looking outside the window deep in thought. He smiles brightly when he sees me.

"Mi Natalia." He pats my head and leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. I smell the coffee falling off his breath. There is also a faint smell of cigars. I wonder if mom knows he's smoking again, she would freak. I grab his hand and place my face on his palm. The guilt that takes over is instant. I work too much. I barely give anyone the time of day unless they work with me. One day I am going to regret not spending more time here.

"What do you say we go to the lake today?" My grandpa has never been like my parents. I don't have to voice my thoughts and feelings because he knows me so well.

"Let me get ready." I get up and kiss his cheek. The stubble tickles my lips.

I run out of his room straight into Esteban. He looks like he was about to knock on the door. His dark eyes go straight to my body, which is only covered by my thin nightgown. It exposes the soft swells of my breast along with my legs. I pull the robe tight around me and push him out of the way. My heart is racing and I can't help but want to give into the hunger. It has been a while since any guy has ever made me feel so raw inside. His eyes are so intense and his look is heated. I want to give him everything he wants.

I shut my bedroom door and lock it.

******

That night I am restless.

I keep thinking back to this afternoon. My mother opted out of going to the lake because she had a migraine, which I know is bull. She can't stand being in the heat for too long and doesn't want to mess up her flawless face with more freckles. My father had an important phone conference he had to attend to. Just like the good old days.

I thought it would just be my grandfather, Juana, and me but Esteban ended up coming with us. I tried coming up with some lame excuse about why I couldn't go but my grandfather's pleading eyes were enough to throw that plan out the window. I spoil this man too much.

I tried so hard to ignore Esteban but he was always in my peripheral. He was the first one to jump into the water, taking off his shirt and jeans. He was packing a lot. His muscles were well defined and flexed every time he jumped off the tree near the lake. I had my sunglasses on so I could watch him move in and out of the lake. I kept my sundress on, sitting on the blanket spread out on the grass and reading my favorite book, or pretending to. I planned on doing this for the rest of the time we were there but I started to get hot. My grandfather was taking a nap under the tree. Juana was walking around the edge of the lake plucking some flowers to put around the house.

SkylerLuv
SkylerLuv
799 Followers