Chapter 3

Pollyanna and I just stood on the church steps, frozen. We looked at each other, trying to decide what to do.

"We can either go back inside, or we can walk to the car and pretend we don't see him," she suggested.

"If we go back inside, there's no telling how long we'll have to stay in there. What if he never leaves?" I said.

"Then we have no other choice than to get to the car as fast as we can and hope to avoid him," she said.

"But if we run, doesn't that defeat the purpose of pretending not to notice him?" I asked.

"So we'll walk," she answered, irritably.

We walked at a medium pace to the parking lot. We had just gotten in the car, when another car pulled into the space next to us. It was Jaime's blue Mustang. Just as I put the key in the ignition, Jaime got out of his car and approached mine. I rolled down the window.

"Jaime, is that you?" I asked, trying in vain not to sound phony.

"Why yes, Howie, it is," he said, sounding intentionally phony.

"And hello to you, too, Pollyanna," he added with a fake smile. Pollyanna looked away. I could hear her cursing under her breath in Spanish.

I took a good, long look at him. Back in the day, he could be considered good looking, even by a guy's standards. He had short black spiky hair that was always perfectly styled. His tall, lean, muscular frame showed clear evidence that he lifted weights.

Now, however, it was obvious that he had let himself go. His hair was a greasy mess, he had a five o'clock shadow and a beer gut. He looked like Robert Downey, Jr. after a bender. I tried to stifle a giggle.

"I know I must look like hell, but ever since I lost my job with you guys in '98, I could never get another dance gig again."

"No?" I pretended to be concerned.

"No. That's why I decided to swallow my pride and ask my old friend for some help," his plea sounded so pathetic.

"Well, I hope you find your friend, Jaime. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be going." I rolled up the window and backed out of the parking space.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I felt as sense of relief as well as a sense of pride. I pulled onto the freeway, I let out a sigh.

"I can't believe he didn't get in his car and chase us!" I laughed.

"Um...Howie?" I looked over at Pollyanna. Her eyes were fixed on the side view mirror.

I looked in the rear view and saw Jaime's car right behind us. Without thinking, I put the pedal to the metal and prayed the Florida State Troopers wouldn't catch me. I avoided the rear view mirror at all costs.

After about fifteen minutes, I asked my sister if he was still behind us.

"Yes...but now another car just cut in front of him."

"¡Gracias a Diós!" I whispered, making the sign of the cross with my right hand.

And suddenly, it appeared: our exit! I love you, God!

We managed to get to Pollyanna's condo in one piece. I unlocked her door so she could get out of the car. She just sat there.

"Howie, would it be too much to ask you to stay with me tonight? I'm not convinced that we lost him," her voice was shaky.

"But Polly, we would have seen him get off at the exit," I reasoned.

"I don't care! I've got this weird feeling that he's going to come ringing my buzzer," she whispered.

"Okay, but I hope you won't mind seeing me in my boxers," I teased.

"I don't care," she said.

"And I'm going to have to wear today's clothes tomorrow," I was trying to make light of the situation to ease her fear. It wasn't working. She looked at me like a deer in headlights.

"I will wash them! Now, I need you to stay with me. I'm not playing."

"Okay, okay," I said in a calming tone, "I'll stay."