Chapter 6- Toughness #2
“She is going to prove to you, in her quiet way, why she is perfect for him, and honestly, I am ready to see it,” Ryanne said as Isabella arrived, wearing cowboy boots, a hat, and two toy guns at her hips. “Isabella, what are you doing?”
“I'm going to ride my pony,” she said. “Mara is coming with me. Oh, I need some apples.”
She walked away, the guns bouncing, a spring in her step. Eduardo watched his oldest daughter, simply shaking his head. “She looks like she is going out to fuck somebody up.”
“Give her time,” Ryanne said, laughing.
****
RYANNE TRODAT DELGADO, the wife of the Fer De Lance, held the title of Lady of the Lands in her role as the wife of the Czar of Colombia.
In her role in the life of Micah Delgado, she held the title of Mama.
He'd gave her the title the first time he met her when Ryanne was found in his father's bed.
At nine years old, going on ten, he climbed into the bed beside her and began to straighten her mussed hair.
From that day forward, he called her Mama and treated her as such.
However, he was not quick to pass out hugs and affection, although he allowed Ryanne the liberty, occasionally, to dole it out to him when he needed a bit of mothering.
Today, the mother in her was in full effect while she waited in the main eating area in the kitchen for Micah and Alita to return.
There were stacks of mail they both needed to go through and decide about attending college in two short months.
The final decision needed to be made, housing secured, and planning for the next few weeks on where and how these two would live. It could be put off any longer.
“Hola, Mama,” Micah said, coming through the side door, “all is well?”
“Actually, no, it is not, Micah,” she said, pointing at the table.
“You and Alita need to make a decision about college. If you're planning to attend in September, you need to choose the university and contact the registrar’s office, so they know to hold your spot. You also need to accept or decline. If you're planning to decline, they need to be made aware. Wherever you’re planning to attend, you need to start looking for quarters or a flat close to the university.”
Micah scowled at her. Then he scowled at the stack of envelopes and brochures that had come in the mail. He'd rather muck the stalls than sit and go through the envelopes.
“I made Buffalo wings and French fries,” Ryanne said to them both.
“Oh, that sounds good,” Micah said, taking a seat at the table. “Alita, let's choose a school to attend.”
Alita took a seat as food appeared on the table. It was illogical to eat chicken parts covered in a spicy sauce and to open mail. The envelopes would get sauce all over them...and she paused. The Lady of the Lands knew Micah would choose one or the other.
Micah looked at the saucy wings and the stack of mail. He pulled a knife from his boot and began slicing open the envelopes.
“Make a stack of yes, no, and maybes,” Ryanne suggested.
“A stack of yes and no,” Micah said, glancing over the letters.
“You will need to know which schools accepted you, which ones accepted with scholarship offers, and the Universities that rejected you,” Ryanne said. “We can also sort them by continents or regions, like the UK, Asia, North America, Latin America, and South America.”
“Mama, that is too much work,” he said, looking at the postmarks. “Asia is a no. The language barrier would give me a headache to no end. Alita, anything from Asia, we don't need to open.”
Ryanne asked, “What about the UK?”
Micah looked up and provided an expression so blank, Alita burst into laughter. By the time she explained to Ryanne why the UK was off the list, she too was laughing.
“We arrived in London, to a very foggy day, and it was drab and cold,” Alita said.
“The Boss got off the plane, walked partway on the tarmac, and returned to the plane. He refused to go any further. We had appointments at Oxford, Cambridge, and St. Andrews. I had to convince him to get into the vehicle.”
“It was the food,” Micah said, opening more envelopes, while eyeballing the hot wings.
“Yes, the food,” Alita said, chuckling. “Our friendly guide took us to lunch at a pub in Cambridge. We ordered the bangers and mash, but The Boss over there was focused on the menu board, and seeing the Spotted Dick as an offering, he couldn't get past it.”
“Past it? I'm still not past it,” Micah said. “What grown man walks into a pub and says, ‘You know what sounds good, a hearty spoonful of Spotted Dick. When the bangers arrived, it was a giant sausage, all black and curved, that looked a dick. A fat black one. I was not eating that.”
Ryanne also started to laugh. He picked up all the envelopes from schools in the UK, including the University of Edinburgh, adding them to the list of nopes.
Mumbling, he said, “They also add mushy green peas to their French-fried potatoes. What is wrong with those people? For breakfast, Mama, they brought me a slice of toasted bread covered in beans. Unseasoned beans. Just fart bubbles in tomato sauce with a pot of tepid tea saturated in bergamot.”
His next stack was of colleges in North America, including Canadian and Mexican schools. “I didn't apply to half of these,” he said, opening one from The National Autonomous University of Mexico. “This one is offering me a full ride, but I don't want to live in Mexico.”
“How about the ones in the States?” Ryanne asked.
Micah opened the letters from Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and MIT. Alita opened hers from MIT as well, smiling at the congratulations.
“I got accepted to MIT,” she said smiling.
“Impressive,” Ryanne said. “What about the others?”
Alita opened the envelopes, “Yes to Harvard. No to Yale, and here is an offer for a full ride at Brown University.”
“I didn't know we applied to Brown,” Micah said.
“We didn't Boss, I did,” Alita said. “I was thinking of a communication major if you know, the whole personal security thing didn’t work out.”
It was then Ryanne saw a twitch in Micah's face. Alita saw it as well, but she didn't respond but continued opening envelopes. Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile was next on the list.
“I do not want to go to school in the same country as Tio Pablo de la Marta,” Micah said, “because that man is insane. He will show up on campus in gauchos, with that stupid gold tooth, and a cup full of guaro asking me when my next exam is and how many of the female students, I fornicated with each day.”
Alita continued opening envelopes and added, “Or soliciting all the young ladies on campus for sexual favors. You know he did that when he came to our recital in Argentina. The headmaster had to ask him to leave.”
Ryanne said, “What? He did not?”
“Senora, he picked two young ladies, both rather homely in appearance, handed them a stack of cash and said there is more where that came from. See me after class,” Alita said. “I was mortified. Security had to escort him off the campus.”
Micah had reached the final pile of schools in Colombia. He sighed and grabbed the hand sanitizer. Coating his hands with the liquid, he pushed the stacks aside and grabbed a hot wing and few fries for his small plate.
“Alita, I like the idea of attending school in Colombia,” he said.
“I can be close to home, there is no language barrier, and the research I shall do can be applicable to my country. I am feeling strongly about Universidad de los Andes in Bogotá. Do they have the communications major there for you, Alita?”
“I applied for digital storytelling,” Alita said softly.
“Well, did you get accepted?” Micah asked, chewing on a wing.
She opened the envelope. “I did, plus a partial scholarship.”
Her bottom lip quivered at the idea of actually attending university to study what she wanted. Ryanne sat next to the girl, wrapping her in an embrace. “I'm very proud of you. I'm so proud of you both.”
Micah picked up another wing, “So, are you good with going to Uni in Bogotá?”
“I'm okay with it,” she told him.
“Good, after this snack, we can make a plan to call a real estate agent to find a flat,” he said. “We will need a vehicle, possibly an SUV. I do not wish to take the Jeep to Bogotá.”
“I was thinking if we were to find a place close to campus, I could get a Vespa,” Alita said, watching his face, which went flat.
“You are making the funny,” Micah said.
“No, if we have classes at different times and only one vehicle,” Alita said, feeling a bit cocky, “then I may have to get one of those handsome study partners to give me a ride if I don't have my own transportation.”
Micah looked up at her. There was fire in his eyes when he spoke. “If you want your own vehicle, just say so and I will get you one, but the whole, handsome guy thing...you pick with me. I find no humor in it. Might I suggest you stop.”
“Sure thing, Boss, but you did say we weren't joined at the hip.”
“I also said I don't have an issue killing a mutherfucker for touching you...sorry Mama,” Micah said looking at Ryanne. “She tests my resolve at the most inopportune times.”
“I mean no disrespect, my apologies,” Alita said, trying not to smirk.
Ryanne saw it. Eduardo, who had been close by listening, but not engaged, also saw it. His son was also falling in love. Micah Delgado also had a sense of humor.
Having him home regularly without the other two sons around, he had begun to see the man his son was growing into. He liked it. He also liked Micah.
Angel, having been outside with ponies, entered through the back door, smelling up the place with a stench that started at his head and ended at his feet.
He spotted the wings and reached for one, only to have his hands swatted by Ryanne, who commanded him to shower and change before touching anything in the house.
He grumbled at the command but looked at his father.
“Papa, when do I start training to be your guard? I don't want to stand around all day like a bored bung hole, but the wedding is this weekend, and I need to be ready to drop a bastard,” Angel said, his angelic face trying to look tough.
“Son, you scare me,” Eduardo said under his breath.
“Your enemies should be scared too. My knives were wiped across the backs of my dart frogs,” he said. “Hey, am I getting a tattoo of the dart frog on my chest? I'm a bad ass too! I want my tattoo!”
“Angel, we talked about this,” Eduardo said.
“Papa, you said I was no different from your other sons, so that means I should get a tattoo like they did. I am the son of a Czar. I am the Emberá Chocó!” Angel shouted.
Micah and Alita both shouted, “The Emberá Chocó!”
“Damn straight,” Angel said. “I shall shower and, Papa, we will begin my training as your guard! Those bastards aren't ready for me!”
“Neither am I,” Eduardo said, sighing softly.