6. I’m Not A Mermaid

6

I’M NOT A MERMAID

MESS, NOAH KAHAN

Cara

So many people are pretty criers. They have soft tears landing on their cheeks. Their eyes glow and get lighter and they look more kissed by the rain than anything else. I’m sure that’s what it feels like to be God’s—or whatever entity’s above—favorite. I, on the other hand, am not. I look more like a blowfish. My eyes get puffy and red. My usually light green eyes get as dark as emeralds and my skin gets blotchy. Definitely not kissed by the rain; more like you threw me in a pond while fully clothed and with regular mascara on. That’s exactly what I look like now after leaving my school for the last time. I’m a complete mess.

Saying goodbye to my friends from the past near-decade was not easy. It wasn’t pretty. It was so hard, in fact, that I almost considered throwing all my plans away and staying. Saying goodbye to the kids yesterday was rough, but saying goodbye to those who have become family was definitely not what the doctor ordered.

I make it home and get out of the van, but when I walk up to my house, I see Manuel standing by my door, looking fresh while I look like an absolute wreck. He has the whole ‘mysterious rich boy’ vibe that he always carries; but this time, with nice dark jeans and a dark collared shirt, he looks like the boy next door. Nice, approachable and hotter than sin. Jesus, I need to get laid. Can’t be lusting over this man. His back is against the wall and he’s holding a coffee in one hand and a bag from Lost Larson—my favorite bakery.

“Manny,” I greet him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. The Zabanas are Dominican and it’s part of their culture to kiss on the cheek when you say hello and goodbye. I have been a part of their family for so long that it is somewhat expected. I don’t mind it, and usually I just throw myself at Allie when I see her and I can ignore her brothers, but after hanging out with Manny last night and him actually trying to make my life a little easier, I sure as hell should show him some manners. Except the minute our cheeks touch, I feel the familiar zing on my body I’ve been getting lately when we touch, and I still don’t know how to deal with that.

“Hola, Carita,” he replies, smiling and handing me the coffee. “Coffee and croissants for my lady.”

“And from my favorite bakery. Are you trying to score brownie points? To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask while I open the door and we walk in. There are some boxes in the living room but there’s still enough space to sit and walk around.

“We need to plan the road trip, so I figured we could make that happen now. I have my assistant on call waiting to hear from us so she can finalize plans,” he explains, sitting in a recliner that looks too small for him .

“I’m not having one of your cutie assistants plan my dream trip for me. I can handle it.” Who does he think he is? Coming in here and telling me what we’re doing. I still sip on the fucking delicious coffee he brought me, though.

“First off, she’s not cute. Second, that’s fine. Then what are we doing?” Before I can answer him, I open the bakery bag and see a croissant, take a piece off, shove it in my mouth and set the bag on the table.

“Well I need to finish packing, I need to rent a trailer for my boxes and then I need to make an itinerary for the trip. Also, how long do you have? How long can we take? Those are the things I need to know so I can plan what we’re doing and when we’re going,” I add. It’s so kind of him to want to go on this trip with me but I also hate to bother him or take him away from his fancy job. I’m twirling my hair with my hand and my knee is shaking, waiting for him to say something.

“I can hear you thinking, Cara,” Manny says.

“Well, say something then,” I groan.

“I told you we’re going. And I also told you I am a man of my word. So how long do you want me? A weekend? A week? Three weeks? You say it and you got me,” he insists, reaching forward and grabbing my hand, pulling it away from my hair.

“I mean, could you come back? I still have to finish packing and make the itinerary and do shit and I can’t do all that today. I don’t want to pull you from work for that long and maybe I’ll be ready by Monday?” Holy run-on sentence. Breathe, Cara, breathe.

“Cara, breathe for me,” he adds as if he can hear my inner thoughts and sense the turmoil.

“Okay,” I whisper and Manny lays his hands back on his knees, sitting back and relaxing in the recliner again.

“Okay, so what’s on this checklist of yours? Because I’m sure you have it hiding in one of the girlie notebooks in your purse,” he teases and I want to roll my eyes but I grab my bag and pull out my pink planner instead. I let out a nervous squeal because showing someone your plans is never easy, especially when you’re trying to share the plans with them. I open it to the page that has my ‘Move Back to Baker’ checklist and hand it to him.

1- Packing:

Living Room

Kitchen

Bedroom

Bonus room

2 - Bags for road trip

3 - Itinerary

4 - Leave Key with Colleen

5 - U-Haul

6 -Book hotels

7- Get supplies

8 - Snacks?

Manny mulls over the list. “Okay, this is not that bad. Are you planning on road-tripping with a U-Haul?

“No, silly. I’m pulling a trailer with the van!” I exclaim, taking my notebook from him and putting it on top of the flower side table.

“You’re planning on road-tripping, and pulling a trailer, with that Powerpuff Girl bus?” Manny questions me with a surprised tone that mirrors his expression. I’m so annoyed at this whole conversation that I’m about to throw all the plans out the window.

“Yes, I’m taking my girl with me back to Baker. I’ve told you this how many times now?”

“Okay, okay, but I thought you meant you would load everything up and send it back with movers and then just drive your bus, Cara. Can that even sustain a long trip like that, pulling a trailer full of stuff? And boy. Buses are boys,” he corrects.

“Are you giving me a gender lecture right now, Manuel? If I want my bus to be a girl, it’ll be a girl, and yes, it can. It’s in great condition, I take it to the shop every other month.”

“Vans are girls, and I guess you do call it a van even though it’s a bus,” he quips and I give him a death stare. “Okay, okay, just in Spanish I guess,” he groans, raising his hands and then pinching his nose. “But like have you thought about how much easier it would be to road-trip without pulling a trailer?”

“Manny, I’m on a teacher’s salary here. Do you know how expensive it would be to ship all my crap?

He lets out a breath, looking me in the eyes and considering his next words. Then he says, “In a perfect world, if everything from your list was ready tomorrow, could you leave tomorrow?”

“Yes, but that’s impossible,” I say.

“Leave the impossibilities to me, sunshine. Can you do that or not?”

“Yes, I guess.” God, he’s insufferable.

“If I could have someone here to pack your stuff, would that be okay with you?” Pack my stuff? What stuff?

“What stuff?” I ask sipping on my coffee, I close my eyes and moan because this shit is so good, I need to inject it into my veins.

“Your stuff. What was on your list? Ah yes, living room, bedroom, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Who’s gonna pack my shit, Manuel? Not all of us grew up with hot daddies and nannies,” I add and he physically shrinks. Mr. Zabana is actually a total asshole and he might be good looking for his age, but I don’t play around with older men. I’m too much of a child to embrace adulthood this early. I know I’m almost thirty and I should grow up or whatever, but we haven’t reached that point and I’m not rushing it. The rise I get out of Allie and her brothers about me calling their dad hot though? Worth it.

“Stop calling my dad hot, please. I have contacts; is that okay with you?” he asks. He’s being so docile and respectful, I wonder what happened to the Manny who is usually goofing around and not taking anything seriously but his job.

I nod gently and he smiles at that.

“Okay, let’s go.” Manny stands up and walks toward the door.

“Let’s go where? I’m tired, I look like shit and I want to take a nap.”

“You could never look like shit,” he scoffs with his megawatt smile. Then he adds, “We’re going to get some checks on that checklist of yours. I know how much you like to cross things off.” He winks and I grab my bag, following him out and into the van.

“Wanna drive?” I ask as I wiggle my eyebrows, thinking that he will say no. Manny surprises me when he opens his palm and lets me throw the keys at him.

“Might as well get used to driving this explosion of girliness.”

“Oh do tell, why do you need to get used to it?” I ask, walking around the passenger side and hopping in the front seat.

He gets in the van and adjusts the seat while he swears in Spanish. His sleeves bunch up at his forearms, drawing my attention to them and I get caught staring because when my eyes meet his, he shows me the cockiest grin and says, “Well, I’m driving this thing on this bucket list trip, aren’t I?”

Manny pulls out of the parking lot and heads into town.

Four hours later and I’m exhausted, but… hyped? Ready to fall asleep, but giddy? I can feel my body bouncing in the seat both figuratively and literally. Manny drove me around town until I got everything I needed. We bought our weight’s worth of snacks and drinks, grabbed scrapbooking supplies, and some other things we needed for the trip. Well, I needed, I guess. Manny, forever the gentleman, drove around without complaints. He carried my bags as I shopped, and overall was great company. His phone never stopped ringing but other than answering a few messages and a call here and there, he didn’t remove his attention from the task at hand.

We decided to grab takeout for dinner and head back to my place. He ordered sushi—or his assistant ordered sushi, I guess—and we’re pulling up when I see a U-Haul parked right outside my place.

“Manny?” I ask but he stays quiet and just parks the van. He silently walks around to open my door and offers me his hand like I need help to get out, but I take it anyway. I grab some of the bags of stuff we bought, but he takes them from me and carries them inside with the takeout bag, too.

As we walk to my place, I see movers shoving things into the U-Haul and after stepping in, I confirm my suspicions. My whole house is packed and ready to go. Not the furniture, though. I’m leaving it fully furnished and renting it to the girl who did her internship in a kindergarten class at school. She’s very ‘rainbows and butterflies’ so she didn’t even bat an eyelash at my quirky house.

The U-Haul is almost full and upon further inspection, I notice they’re bringing out the boxes from my room, which were already packed. Thank God for that, because I would have fainted at the thought of strangers going through my drawers.

A leggy brunette walks out in high heels and a tight fancy skirt. She seems as tall as the ceiling. I’m usually not surprised by tall women, as I’m five-foot-seven myself, but this woman is more than tall. She demands space with every step she takes. She demands all eyes on her. So fucking confident. And that makes me pull my shoulders back more and stand taller myself.

She walks past me and straight to Manny. She gives him a big smile that he doesn’t return and says, “All set here, Mr. Zabana. Things will be delivered to your sister’s address and we’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Lucia. Have a great night. I won’t need you again here. Can you send a car for me in about an hour? We need to have dinner first.” Manny’s voice is commanding and holy moly does that made him hotter. His business-like tone, his serious demeanor, and the respect that he used to give her instructions, while not treating her like she’s any less. His mom is a great lady so I’m sure that’s where he gets his good manners from but fuck me because that was both hot and sweet.

Lucia walks out of the house and closes the door behind her. The house is empty now. No boxes anywhere. No people roaming around; just me, Manny, and the food. He sets the table and I join him, sitting down and opening the first container to see if it’s my sushi roll. I grab the chopsticks and the yum-yum sauce and start eating.

“That’s not really a sushi roll. That’s more like breaded rice with chicken inside smothered in sauce. ”

“And who are you, the sushi police? Let me eat my Highway Seventeen roll in peace, please.” Deep-fried deliciousness with cream cheese, avocado, and chicken inside. The perfect combo.

“Sushi without fish shouldn’t even be called sushi,” he argues.

“I don’t like seafood, fish, or anything that breathes underwater, Manny. Why would I trust it? I’m not a mermaid. If it breathes underwater, I’m not eating it. Let me live happily with my chicken sushi, please.”

“Whatever you say, Carita, whatever you say.” Manny shakes his head before laughing loudly.

This might be my favorite thing about all of the Zabanas: how easy it is to talk and laugh with them. How easy it is to just be with them. Allie and I have been friends for forever so her brothers were always part of the package. Manny’s twin brother, Augusto—Gus for short— is funny as shit too, but we really don’t talk as much.

Manny was the one that I could always talk to, either because he was always nagging at me or because he was always asking me how I was. As we grew older, Manny became more than Allie’s little brother—he became my friend too. He became someone to talk to every now and then when I needed a pick me up, because I knew I could count on Manny to make me laugh. He became someone that I wanted to share things with because he always replied quickly, no matter what it was, and this led to us talking frequently. He became a good friend.

However, since adulthood, it’s been harder to spend time with him, or any of them actually. Jobs all over the country, relationships, responsibilities, and whatever else gets in the way. Whoever said that growing up was a fraud was right. This shit’s for the birds .

“So Cara, you bought a whole stationery set… what are you doing with all that?”

“Funny you should ask,” I say, getting up to grab the bag of things on the table and pull out the new journal. It came with tabbies to match the colors on the cover and I have never been happier. I’m surprised Manny saw me pick out these things since he was on his phone during this part of the shopping spree.

“See here?” I ask, opening to the first page to show him the bullet points in my journal. “This is a bullet journal. You can use it for many things, but I got it to document the road trip and to write the itinerary. I’ll be working on that tonight. I want loose plans, if that’s okay with you. I want to be able to seize the day and enjoy it—does that make any sense?”

I hate that I turn into this jittery mess when I’m trying to ask for something. I used to be able to ask for what I wanted head on. But in all the years that I was with that ass-who-shall-not-be-named, he made it seem like I was being annoying. You ask for too much, Cara. Just chill. I can hear his words echoing in my brain. My therapist says that I need to let go of the girl I tried to be when I was with him and embrace who I am now. Who I always knew I was deep down. Go back to the things that make me happy without daring to think of who might like it or not. I’m trying but it’s not always easy. Journaling is just one of the many things.

“Whatever you want to do works for me. I’m yours for the trip and I’m down for whatever,” Manny answers and I raise my eyebrows at him. “I mean, I will draw the line at some crazy shit that I’m sure you’ll try to pull off, but I’m game. You said three weeks, you got three weeks.”

“I said it was going to take me two weeks to do this road trip, not three,” I add and he looks at me and smiles. His soft smile. Not the ‘I want to seal a deal’ smile. This is his ‘I’m comfortable with you’ smile. The one that reaches his eyes and makes them gleam. The one where his eyebrows are soft and relaxed. The one that could make any girl jealous he’s not flashing it at them. And he’s showing it to me.

“But you also said you have to be in Atlanta in three weeks for your friend’s wedding, right? So why would you cut your trip short to go back out, unless you want to? I figured we could add some more stops to that one-in-a-lifetime dream trip of yours, I can drop you off at this wedding, and after we can drive straight to Baker. Does that work for you?”

“Is this what makes you a great businessman? Your attention to detail?” Did I just say that aloud? Fuck my whole life.

“What? Are you surprised I remembered you have that wedding? It’s not hard, Cara,” he says it nonchalantly. Other than my friends—my close friends, the friends who will never get rid of me friends—I don’t think anybody pays attention to what I say. My parents do, but I won’t bother them with trivial things. The people at work, we just talk about work. And all the boys I’ve dated, including Cole, seemed to be more interested in my pretty mouth than the words coming out of it. So no, not easy at all.

My expression must say it all because he shrugs and continues, “You like to talk, you need to be around more people who like to listen. Hell, you should be around people who pay attention to what you have to say.”

The air grows thick as Manny’s dark eyes find mine. I want to squirm and look away—that’s what I do most of the time—but not now, not in this moment. Right now, I want to be the cause for that intense stare, even if it’s just for this moment. There’s a table and over two decades of family friendship between us, but right now I wish there was nothing. I wish he was looking at me like this because he wanted me. I wish he was looking at me like that because he meant those words in ways more than just being kind to his sister’s best friend. His phone rings, snapping us both from this moment.

Manny looks at this phone, clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” He gets up and walks out the back door onto the porch and I plop my head on the table. Except the plate full of sushi smothered in sauce is there and now my face is covered in both.

I get up and walk to the sink to wash my face. This day needs to be over. I’m ready for a warm bath and music to take the edge off because I can’t go on a road trip with this man without bustin’ one out.

“What happened to your food?” Manny says as I dry my face and I wave my hand to brush off his comment. I grab the plate and toss the rest of it in the trash.

“Hey, I gotta run. But would you be ready tomorrow? Can I come in the morning?” he asks.

“Yeah, I can be ready, but why don’t I just pick you up? You’re the one doing me a favor.”

Manny smiles and nods, walking over to kiss my cheek before saying goodbye. He leaves and I go to my room to do all the things I wanted to do, but in reverse order. Maybe after coming undone with the help of my little pink friend, I’ll be able to act normal around Manny again.