American Dirt : A Novel (2020) by Jeanine Cummins Read Free Book Online

the day her father had died.
    ‘I know,’ Javier said, even though she didn’t say these things out loud.
    So she endured his intense flattery, and he, in turn, accepted, perhaps even relished, her wholesale rejection of his flirtation. She came to think of it as part of his charm.
    ‘But, Lydia,’ he told her reverently, placing both hands on his heart, ‘my other loves notwithstanding, you truly are la reina de mi alma .’ The queen of my soul.
    ‘And what would your poor wife say about that?’ she countered.
    ‘My magnificent wife only wants me to be happy.’
    ‘She’s a saint!’
    He spoke frequently of his only child, a sixteen-year-old daughter who was at boarding school in Barcelona. Everything about him changed when he talked about her – his voice, his face, his manner. His love for her was so earnest that he handled even the subject of her with tremendous care. Her name was like a fine glass bauble he was afraid of dropping.
    ‘I joke about my many loves, but in truth, there is only one.’ He smiled at Lydia. ‘Marta. Es mi cielo, mi luna, y todas mis estrellas. ’
    ‘I am a mother.’ Lydia nodded. ‘I know this love.’
    He sat across from her on the stool she’d come to think of as his. ‘That love is so vast I sometimes fear it,’ he said. ‘I can never hope to earn it, so I fear it will disappear, it will consume me. And at the same time, it’s the only good thing I’ve ever done in my life.’
    ‘Oh, Javier – that can’t be true,’ Lydia said.
    The subject made him morose. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes roughly beneath the glasses.
    ‘It’s just that my life hasn’t turned out as I intended,’ he said. ‘You know how it is.’
    But she didn’t. After weeks of learning about each other, this was where their common language faltered. With the exception of having only one child, Lydia’s life had turned out precisely as she’d always wished it might. She’d given up hoping for the daughter she could no longer have; she’d accepted that absence because she’d worked at it. She was content with her choices, more than content. Lydia was happy. But Javier looked at her through the warp of his lenses, and she could see the yearning on his face, to be understood. She pressed her lips together. ‘Tell me,’ she said.
    He removed the glasses and folded the stems. He placed them in his breast pocket and blinked, his eyes small and raw without their accustomed shield. ‘I thought I would be a poet!’ He laughed. ‘Ridiculous, right? In this day and age?’
    She put her hand on top of his.
    ‘I thought I would be a scholar. A quiet life. I’d do quite well with poverty, I think.’
    She twisted her mouth, touching the elegant watch on his wrist. ‘I’m dubious.’
    He shrugged. ‘I guess I do like shoes.’
    ‘And steak,’ she reminded him.
    He laughed. ‘Yes, steak. Who doesn’t like steak?’
    ‘Your book habit alone would bankrupt most people.’
    ‘ Dios m í o, you’re right, Lydia. I’d be a terrible pauper.’
    ‘The worst,’ she agreed. After a beat she said, ‘It’s never too late, Javier. If you’re truly unhappy? You’re still a young man.’
    ‘I’m fifty-one!’
    Younger than she thought, even. ‘Practically a baby. And what have you got to be so unhappy about anyway?’
    He looked down at the counter and Lydia was surprised to see genuine torment cross his features.
    She lowered her voice and leaned in. ‘Then you could choose a different path, Javier. You can. You’re such a gifted person, such a capable person. What’s stopping you?’
    ‘Ah.’ He shook his head, replacing his glasses. She watched him pushing his face back into its customary shapes. ‘It’s all a romantic dream now. It’s over. I made my choices long ago, and this is where they’ve led me.’
    She squeezed his hand. ‘It’s not so bad, right?’ It was something she’d say to Luca, to shepherd him toward optimism.
    Javier blinked slowly, tipped his head to