CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Getting that man to go to sleep was far more difficult than I expected. He clung to me the whole time, and when I thought he was finally asleep it turned out he was just waiting for me to try and get away so he could pull me back.
Finally, at three in the afternoon, he conked out. Now I’m in the Tavera kitchen trying to find something to make for him. It’s not promising. I’m wary of every meat-like thing I see, and despite being farmers there aren't many vegetables around.
“Top right cabinet,” Alma instructs without looking up from the shirt she’s sewing at the breakfast table. If I had to guess I’d say it belonged to Mr. Tavera. “We got canned soup. Lucio told me Toro was sick.”
“Thanks,” I say with a sigh. “He went outside last night in the rain without a jacket. Just to give the animals blankets.”
Even without seeing her I can hear the smile she’s wearing. “Always did really care ‘bout the animals. He’s sweet with ‘em.”
“He is.” The can hisses when I crack it open. I dump it into one of the many chipped pots sitting around, before placing it on the stove. “But now he’s being extra clingy.”
“Better than before. When things got tough he used to just hide out in the shed.” She says it like it’s totally normal, like everyone just goes to tough things out in a shed when things get hard.
“Even when he was little?”
“Especially when he was little.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks at the thought of little Toro all alone in a shed that came straight out of a horror movie. “That’s sad.”
Alma shrugs. “He has you now. He’s a lot happier than he used to be.”
She sure doesn’t look happy, and now I’m feeling bad for both her and little Toro. “Yeah…. But… I don’t know. He was just a kid going through so much… It’s not fair.”
“Nothing in life ever is. I did what I could for him, but Papa used to be a lot more angry.” The thought of Mr. Tavera being even worse somehow sends a chill down my spine. “He’s mellowed out over the years… I know it’s not perfect, but it’s better.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you… better?” The way she looks up at me tells me I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s my stupid desire to make everyone happy that got me in this situation to begin with.
Her expression shifts to one of amusement, as if my question was just so silly. “You ain’t fixin’ me with hugs and kisses, Nico.”
“That’s not…” My cheeks go red. “That’s not what I meant. Just… Is there anything I can do…?”
“Nope.” She diverts her attention back to the shirt in her hands, amusement being replaced by something more solemn. “This is my life, Nico, and that’s okay. S’nice that you care, but you can’t fix everything.”
Ouch. That hits me right in the heart. “Okay…”
“You’ve made Toro’s life so much better, so just focus on him okay? It makes me happy when he’s happy.” I catch the way her fingers are trembling as she patches up the shirt. “It’s not everyday you meet someone capable of stopping your little brother from eating human flesh.”
She chuckles dryly at her joke, so I do the same despite the fact it makes me squirm internally. It’s so easy to get caught up in this whole game of house to forget that these people do kill people, and they fucking eat them too.
Even if Toro’s changed his eating habits I have to question his motives. Is it because he actually cares, or is it just because he wants to kiss me? Does he even understand the morality of it?
It’s probably unfair of me to expect him to, though. For him, that’s just how things were growing up. Even if his reasons are muddled, at least he changed. The end is the part that matters.
I hope.
“Afternoon...” Mr. Tavera grumbles as he enters the kitchen. It seems more towards Alma though, so I keep quiet as he walks right by me and takes the seat across from her. “What are you doin’, Nico?”
My limbs go rigid when he addresses me directly, and I force myself to smile warmly and try not to start shaking due to the sheer amount of nerves I get when face to face with this man.
“Making soup,” I say quickly. “For Toro.”
To my surprise Mr. Tavera grins at me, hand on his knee. “You really are some type’a little housewife, huh? How was the barn? Probably ain’t ever did somethin’ like that at home.”
Holding in a physical recoil to his words, I laugh sheepishly and just shrug. “Uh… No, not really. We didn’t really have to do that kind of thing back home.”
“I guess it ain’t all bad. Even if yer’ a guy it’s… Still okay, I reckon. I was talkin’ to Lucio about it.” He shifts in his seat, peering over at Alma. “You don’t mind the help, right princess?”
“Of course not, pa.”
Mr. Tavera flashes me a winning smile, just as fake as the one he gave me the day I met him. “Well, that’s good. It’s good to have ya around, Nico.”
With a shake of my head I stir Toro’s soup, the broth beginning to bubble up at the top. Removing it from the element I put some in a bowl for him, awkwardly glancing back at the two Taveras who are just watching me now.
“Once yer’ done can you go fetch all the eggs from the chicken coop?” Mr. Tavera asks, eyes boring through my skull. “There’s a basket n’ stuff already in there. Just bring them back here.”
“Yeah, of course.” I’m in no position to deny a request from him, and gathering eggs seems like the easiest thing on the planet. “I’ll do it once Toro’s sleeping again.”
There’s no further conversation to be had with him, so I take the soup and scurry back to Toro’s room. He’s still curled up in bed, looking extra peaceful with his eyes shut and an extra wide smile.
He must be having a nice dream, and I don’t wanna ruin that just yet. I set the soup down on the bedside table, reaching out to gingerly stroke his hair. With a sleepy murmur his hand darts up to grab my wrist, pulling my hand down to his hair to the side of his face.
“Nico…” he says all dreamily, a low rumbling sound following suit. My boyfriend is so freaking cute I want to bite him, but that’s probably wrong so I brush my thumb back and forth over his cheek instead. I think the soup can wait just a little longer.