“Did you find what you were searching for at the library?” I said as we crept through traffic.
“Not everything. I’m going again tomorrow. Hohman’s version of The Long Lost Friend sidetracked me. The folklore and mythology specialist in the research section is trying to track down an eighteen-eighty English translation of the Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses. All of their Scheible books are in German.”
“And this has to do with…” I circled my hand.
“Folk religion and magic systems in nineteenth-century Pennsylvania. Good-luck charms, medicine men, and curses.”
“A list of your favorite things. I’m glad you came up for air to come to a nice twenty-first-century baseball game. Did you take time to eat?”
“We stopped for a sandwich off campus. You know, baseball and its superstitions go all the way back to the nineteenth century. The New York Knickerbockers baseball team was formed before the Civil War.”
“We?”
Nick glanced at me. “No, all of baseball.”
“You said ‘we’ stopped for lunch.”
“Oh. I ran into Isabella at the library, doing research for a paper on Mexican folklore. I told you about her.”
“Your former fiancée from Costa Rica?”
“Pretend fiancée.”
“I still don’t comprehend the pretend part. Were you dating her?”
“No.” Nick snickered. “I didn’t hear about my engagement until Isabella and I got on the plane from Costa Rica to Los Angeles. Her village has a machismo culture—her grandfather wouldn’t allow Isabella to leave home to attend UCLA without a husband. When I stayed with the family in Playa Del Alma, Isabella and her mother came up with a plan for Izzy to return to California with me. Then, behind my back, they told the grandfather we were getting married.”
I wrinkled my nose. “How manipulative.”
“The women battled cultural standards. Her mother wanted Izzy to go to college in the States. The ruse seemed innocent enough. I was happy to help—both of her parents opened their home to me during my stay. After our plane took off, Izzy told me about everything, then promised to write her grandfather saying she broke the engagement.”
“Did she?”
“I assume so. Izzy’s a good kid. You’ll like her.”
Then why hadn’t I met her? A jealous lump rose in my throat. After Nick and I got together, we were happily exclusive. Or so I thought.
“Isabella happened to be at the library today?”
“She’s a student at UCLA, Liz. Yes. She happened to be at their library writing a paper. What’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” Then added with a sarcastic bite, “Did you two have a good time at lunch?”
“We had a great time. I want you to meet her.”
“I’ve heard that before.” I turned to the window.
“Okay, what’s with the attitude?”
Good question. Nick had female friends. He worked with women, he taught women, and he never gave me reason to feel threatened or suspicious. Why today?
I stared out the passenger window as traffic slowed near the Griffith Park Golf Course. Behind the fence bordering the freeway, a group of female golfers sashayed to the green in shorts. The casual sway of their hips made me think of Laycee Huber prancing through my Atlanta backyard flirting with every man at our summer barbeques. Realization clicked in—my foul attitude had nothing to do with Nick and Isabella. My encounter with Laycee brought up unresolved indignation over her tryst with my ex.
Flushing with shame, I faced Nick. “I’m sorry. This morning at the gym, I ran into a woman I hoped I’d never see again—an ex-neighbor from Atlanta who had an affair with Jarret. She pretended to be my friend, then and now.”
“What did you say to her?”
“It’s not what I said, it’s what I should have done. Maybe if I had bopped Laycee on the nose like I wanted to years ago, I wouldn’t be in a snit about you running into Isabella today.”
“Before you punch anyone in the nose with that little fist, I’ll make sure you and Isabella meet. I don’t want you to have any doubts about our relationship. I’m not Jarret, Liz.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to drive. You might distract me and cause a pileup.”
I touched his right cheek. “There. I’m going to kiss you right there.”
“If you have to.” He angled his head to the side for my smooch.
We exited the freeway on Stadium Way. Clusters of people picnicked and tossed Frisbees beneath the lush green trees in Elysian Park, surrounding the stadium in Chavez Ravine.