Tonight I'm Loving You

“Are we there yet?” Satia asked for the third time.

“Not yet, la bellaza,” Enrique told her from the driver's seat.

I could see her from my mirror; big, brown eyes filled with impatience, dark hair almost gone from the chemotherapy. Her face was thinner; her whole body was, really. But she was handling it all like a trooper.

“We're here!” Enrique announced, pulling to the side of the street, in front of a large
house.

It was two stories tall, very wide, of old Spanish architecture. Ceiling-to-floor windows peered back at us. “Who's house is this, Daddy?” asked Satia.

A small smile crossed Enrique's lips as he traced them with a finger. “Yours.”

My head whipped around to stare at him and his smile grew. “Ours?” I demanded shrilly. He nodded. “Enrique! What did you do?”

“Bought you a house,” he answered as it was the simplest thing in the world.

“We have a place to live.”

“Yes, a tiny apartment that leaks and smells like dead cat.” I glowered at him, but his smile remained and he turned in his seat to speak to Satia, “want to go see your new house?”

“Yeah!” our daughter exclaimed and opened her door to jump out.

“Be careful!” I said as her and Enrique raced ahead of me to our residence.

Enrique swept Satia into his arms and quickly unlocked the door. “You coming?” he called.

“Yes,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Come on, mama!”

When I joined them at the front door, Enrique held the door open for me, and I walked inside. The beauty of the empty house took my breath away. The front room ran back into the house, large and open with a wide staircase that was completed with a dark wood banister.

“Ready for a tour?” Enrique asked. I only nodded.

My admiration and excitement for the house only grew with each room. The house was spacious, antique, and even without any possessions inside, it echoed with history. We finished in the kitchen. The floor was brick, walls were wood and stone. A large stove sat on one wall. Rosa would love it.

“Its been remodeled, but they kept the original setup,” Enrique explained, leaning against the counter next to Satia who was seated on it. “So what do you think?”

“I love it!” Satia shrieked, hugging Enrique's arms. “Thank you, Daddy.”

I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face as he kissed her nearly bald head. “I love it too,” I admitted.

Enrique looked up at me, brown eyes showing his satisfaction. “I thought you would. Oh, by the way...” He whipped his cellphone out, checking the time. “Your boyfriend's going to be here in five minutes.”

“Huh?” Enrique calling Pitbull—if that's who he was talking about—my boyfriend was strange. Perhaps, he'd grown up. His black eye had finally went away.

“Pits' gonna be here in a little bit. We need to talk something over with you.” I didn't like the sound of that.

“Okay...” was all I said.

Enrique and Satia chit-chatted while I investigated every nook on the first floor. As Enrique promised, the doorbell rang shortly after. The greatest thing about the house so far—there were windows on either side of the door so I could see who I was answering the door to. It was Armando.

“Hey, mami,” he greeted, pecking me on the lips. “Nice house.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Kind of a surprise.”

Armando smiled and leaned in close. “Just so you know, I helped pick it out, but Enrique doesn't want you to know that.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You and Enrique picked out a house for me? Together?”

“What can I say? His priorities and my mine are about the same nowadays. Actually, you're a little higher on mine than his.”

“I wouldn't doubt that,” I said and led him into the kitchen. “So what is this thing you want to talk over with me?”

Enrique and Pit shared a look before Pit pulled a piece of paper from his jeans pocket and handed it to me. I read the colorfully defined words.

Enrique Iglesias & Pitbull
Benefit Concert for Children With Leukemia

Featuring
Jennifer Lopez
Marc Anthony
Neyo
T-Pain
Usher

I looked up from the ad, eyes ready to fall from their sockets. “You two put this together?”

Enrique and Armando shrugged. “For the most part,” Enrique said. “The profit will go to organizations that support families with children that have leukemia, which includes you.”

I shook my head, awestruck. “This is...so wonderful.” I was nearly speechless, unable to say anymore or to express my gratitude.

Armando put an arm around my shoulders, and as if he knew, he said, “you're welcome.”

|

“So Daddy's going to sing for me?” Satia asked, eyes bright with excitement as she watched the TV screen above us.

“Yep,” I said, smiling at her.

We were in the hospital for another treatment. Tubes were attached to my little girl's arm, her hair was nonexistent, but she was smiling and ecstatic to see her father and 'Uncle Pit' on stage.

The television screen flashed to a clip of Enrique and Armando explaining the reason for the concert, to help those that needed it. Then, it went to the stage and the music blared from the speakers. I recognized it as “I Like It”.

Enrique bounded out, screaming, “one love! One love!” Pitbull was standing to one side, chanting his way through the intro.

Enrique was so damn beautiful. The stage lights made his chocolate eyes sparkle even more. His smile, that he projected shamelessly to his fans, was heart stopping.

I hated him so much.

The concert was flawless, riveting. Not only did Pitbull and Enrique perform their hits, but the guest musicians did some of their's as well. And not only the ones who featured Enrique and Armando. It was explosive. Satia was grinning from ear to ear, dancing and wriggling around in her bed—the best part.

The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted, until Enrique reappeared on stage. He took a seat at a stool in front of the mic. He grasped the mic, the camera zooming on his face.

“This next song is dedicated to the two most important women in my life. Rosin and Satia...” He whispered our names, almost that I didn't catch it.

But he said our names. Not Rebecca's. Not some girl I hadn't heard of yet. Us. Tears brushed my eyes when the guitar melody of “Hero” seeped through the towering speakers.

“Mama, why are you crying?”

I didn't bother to hid the tears as I took Satia's hand in mine. “Because,” I said, eyes on the TV screen, “because your Daddy just proved something to me.”