15
Silvia
There was a weird vibe in the club today. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Everyone seemed distracted. Even Mama Virgie appeared serious while cooking up enough food to feed an army. Not that I minded. She was an amazing cook.
The club girls busied themselves, but I couldn’t tell what they were doing. It almost seemed like they were taking inventory of stuff for some unknown reason. Weird .
But what bothered me most was I hadn’t heard from Andy yet. I would have thought he would’ve called by now. It was approaching eleven. Noon would arrive before I knew it.
I had expected to hear from him when he got on the road. He knew I would be up by eight in the morning, eager to talk to him. Maybe they were getting a late start because they had a late night.
Last night, I’d overheard some of the sweet butts laughing about how the guys always stop at a strip club in Oregon and Washington before arriving in Canada. Then they repeated their stops. Letty had said everyone knows bikers can’t go more than a day without sex.
The whole table of women giggled. I’d hoped it was just the alcohol talking but now I wasn’t so sure.
I wandered into the kitchen. “Can I help with anything? Is there a big party or event I don’t know about?”
Mama Virgie stopped stirring the massive pot on the stove. Her gaze immediately went to my bandaged arm.
“Umm. I got bored yesterday while Jefe was gone.” I grinned sheepishly, then laughed awkwardly. “He knows about the tattoo sleeve. Promise.”
She waved like she was swatting a fly. “No worries, Mija. I was just surprised. Your fair skin is like ivory and no blemishes, you know? Don’t mind me.” She returned to her pot and stirred it.
“Is there anything you want me to do? I know how to chop veggies and wash dishes.” Please give me something to do. I’m bored out of my mind.
“No. Not right now. Maybe later. Okay?”
“Okay.” I grabbed a marranitos to nibble on. Some people called them Mexican piggies. The sweet bread tasted like yummy gingerbread. I liked them more than conchas, but I would eat either of them any day of the week with a cup of coffee.
I took a bite and with my mouth full I hummed in delight. “Delicious, Mama Virgie.”
“Thank you, Mija.”
I left the kitchen, feeling like Mama Virgie didn’t want me around. At this rate, it would be the day that never ended if I had to spend it by myself.
Back at the monastery, the nuns talked a lot. Usually, about people suffering in third-world countries, or the Pope. Of course, there was a lot of praying that went on, too.
I wasn’t used to total and utter silence. I was a social creature and needed engagement. Friendly smiles. A place to call home and a family to love. As unusual as it was to live with nuns in a Catholic monastery, it had been my safe place.
Now, I felt homeless and not sure who I could trust and go to for comfort.
“Hey, Letty. Do you know what’s going on around here? Is there a party or something I don’t know about?”
“Oh, um… No party. We just do this occasionally.” She stacked blankets and towels in piles. There were at least two dozen stacks. On the floor next to her foot was a box full of baggies. They had a toothbrush, travel-size toothpaste and some other toiletry items.
“Do you need help? I’m kind of bored.”
“Why don’t you go hangout in Jefe’s room like a little princess,” Yoli said nastily. “We have work to do, no thanks to you.”
“What does no thanks to you mean? What did I do?” Maybe Yoli was PMSing. No, she just didn’t like me.
“Yoli,” Letty said in a warning tone.
I pushed my hip out and put my hand on it, holding my piggy in the other hand. “What aren’t you guys telling me? Has something happened I don’t know about?”
“Nothing’s happened, Silvi.” Letty kept her attention on her piles.
“Come on, Yoli. I know you’d love to chew my ass out and put me in my place. What did I do?”
“How about just existing is torture enough for the rest of us. Or that the Prez is like a puppy following you around, trying to please you because you’re just so damn delicate!”
“I am not, and he does not do that!”
“You made him a weak-ass man, and don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed how he spends all his free time with you. He’s abandoned his crew. It’s not supposed to be like that in a MC, Chiquita.”
I hated her so much right now. There were moments when I thought I might be able to be friends with her on a very basic, casual level. Maybe we could’ve tolerated each other. And then she acted like a witch, and I was back to hating her.
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m trying to get along with you and fit in around here. I’m not an awful person. I care about the club and you girls—”
“And Jefe,” Yoli said tartly.
“Yes, and Jefe. What’s so wrong about that?”
“Nothing is wrong with it.” Letty touched my arm and smiled. “I like you.”
“Thank you.”
I could tell Yoli wanted to strangle me, but I didn’t know what I had done to make her angry. I wouldn’t stop until she told me.
“I don’t get you, Yoli. I stood up for you when Jefe was going to slap you. I had your back, and you can’t be straight with me?”
“Lady, I don’t need you standing up for me to Jefe. He was mine before he picked up your sorry ass on the side of the road.”
I exhaled a slow breath. She’s baiting you. Don’t fall for it.
“You know what would be good for everyone?” she asked.
“What?”
“If you left and never came back.”
“Yoli,” Quino hissed in the doorway. “Blanca needs help in the supply closet.” He nudged his head for her to leave.
“Excuse me, Chiquita.” She left, swinging her wide hips like a pendulum.
I went over to Quino, whom I hadn’t seen all day. “What’s going on around here? It’s like everyone is preparing for something. I’d like to know what it is and offer my help.”
“We’ve got it covered.”
“Got what covered? Are you having a party or something?”
He growled in his throat. “No.”
“Come on, Quino. I know Jefe asked you to watch over me. Can’t you also keep me in the loop of stuff?” I refrained from whining, but it wasn’t easy. “Please give me a job. I need to be useful.”
He huffed and turned his head up toward the ceiling like he was silently asking God why He brought me into the lives of the club.
To be fair, I wondered about the same thing every so often.
God had a plan for all of us. Some masterful plan we couldn’t imagine.
He made lives intertwine and cross throughout our lives.
How He brought some of us together was mind-blowing, like with Andy and me.
“I’ll do anything. Pick vegetables and fruit. Feed the chickens. Do laundry.” Although, washing dirty, smelly clothes was my least favorite thing to do, I would happily do it right now.
“I have nothing for you to do.”
“God! Why is everyone treating me this way? What have I done to make you not like me?” I stormed off and ran to Andy’s room.
Hot tears streamed down my face as I kicked the door shut, then launched myself on the bed. I inhaled his scent on the pillow and promptly soaked it with my tears.
I was going to go crazy waiting for him to return. If this was how it was going to be when he went on a run, I didn’t know if I could be with him.
But the thought of not being with him made me cry harder.
Call me, Andy. Please, I need to hear from you.