Chapter 13 #2
"I'm serious!" Patrick said loudly. "Just look at me!"
Raphael waved a hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know you got hurt. It's not funny. It's just…" He hitched a breath. "You really think this ornament is cursed? And that I gave it to you? Dude, no. What the hell? No."
"You think I want to believe a wooden devil broke my foot? Trust me, I was rooting for clumsiness."
"Raphe, language!" Maria came in carrying a tray with four mugs and a plate of cookies. She put the tray onto the coffee table, giving Krampus a wary look. "Madre mía. It looks like something that would curse itself just to feel useful."
She made the sign of the cross and plopped down into a chair.
"And don't laugh, hermano, a curse is nothing to joke about.
Don't you remember when Uncle Tito bought that painting on sale, and it brought so much bad luck?
Aunt Flora got gout—and Tito got hemorrhoids.
He had to burn the thing." She looked at Patrick. "You should try burning it."
"I tried throwing it away." Patrick picked up his mug. "That didn't work. Supposedly, you can remove the curse by giving it back to the person you got it from."
"And you think it was Raphe?" She looked at her brother in surprise.
"Yeah, Raphe has had it out for me from day one," Patrick said hotly. "This cocoa is really good, by the way."
"Excellent," I said. "What's that unusual spice?"
"Cinnamon and chili pepper," Maria said with satisfaction. "Just a pinch. It's good, no?"
Raphael waved a hand as if annoyed by the trivial conversation. "Look, Patrick, if I had a real cursed object—if I even believed in such a thing—I wouldn't waste it on you, believe me."
"True," said Maria. "There are at least three other people who deserve it. Rose's husband."
"Frank, our worthless landlord," Raphael added.
"The priest at St. Mary of the Meadows. The one who messed with that little boy," Maria shook her head angrily.
Raphael gave her a weirded-out look. "Geez, that was ten years ago. Anyway, no. It wasn't me. Honestly? You're not that important to me, Patrick."
Patrick slumped back. He looked at me, and I gave a tiny shrug. I believed Raphael.
Patrick wasn't buying it though. "If I'm not that important, why are you always getting in my face? What is your problem with me, anyway?"
Raphael glanced at his sister, then down into his hot chocolate.
He shrugged. "You waltzed in with your MIT degree, and Eleanor acted like you were a gift from the Game Dev gods.
I worked my way up from QA. I've been busting tail there for five years.
But you were made lead because you got some silver spoon ride to a fancy school. Of course I was pissed."
I saw Patrick swallow. "I didn't get any silver spoon ride. My parents are both teachers. I got scholarships. And work study. And debt."
Raphael blinked in surprise, but then he shrugged. "You still got to go," he said stubbornly.
"That's why you hate me? So why are you always making gay slurs?"
Maria gasped and kicked Raphael's shin. "Why would you do that?"
Raphael turned red. "Dude, it's just because it gets under your skin. I don't really care about that stuff."
"You'd better not!" Maria scowled. "We have two gay cousins and a florist uncle-once-removed who runs every family gathering. We'd be lost without Mateo."
"You jerk," Patrick said, but his anger seemed deflated.
He reached for my hand, almost automatically.
It gave me a strange thrill that he would seek me out for comfort already.
I squeezed those long fingers in empathy.
I didn't like Raphael, didn't like the way he talked to Patrick, or the things he'd done to Patrick.
But he wasn't a villain, and I think Patrick was just realizing that.
Raphael rubbed his face. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You're not as bad as I thought. I mean, you are a pretty good coder, so maybe you deserved the lead."
"Damn straight."
"I'm just… I'm stressed out a lot. And not getting that promotion really sucked. But that's not on you." He grimaced. "I guess."
"Tio Fafe?" A little voice pierced the room. An adorable little girl of about four walked in dressed in a Barbie flannel nightgown. She looked at us shyly.
When Raphael turned and saw her, his expression softened, and his eyes shone. "What are you doing up, Mija? You need to go to sleep, or Santa won't come." He held out his arms and she ran to him, climbed into his lap. She stared at me and Patrick.
"These are friends from Tio's work," Maria said. She reached out to smooth the little girl's bedhead.
"This is Angel, my niece," Raphael said proudly. Then he gave Patrick a sour look. "The small child you woke up."
Patrick grimaced. "Sorry."
"Patrick makes games with Tio," Maria said.
Angel broke into a big smile. "I love games! Tio shows me art from his new game."
" NDA " Patrick coughed into his hand.
"Shut up," Raphael sneered, but he was half smiling too. He stood up, holding the little girl. "I need to get her to bed. So, we're done here, right?"
Patrick tried to stand, and I hurried to help him to his feet and get his crutches under him. "I guess we're done. But if you didn't give me Krampus, any idea who did?"
Raphael thought about it. "Best guess? Sam. You know, the action figures he has at work—they're just the cheap stuff. He has some antique collectibles at home that are nuts."
"You've been to his house?" Patrick asked, surprised.
"Sure. I go over and play games sometimes. But Sam wouldn't hurt a fly. You know that right?"
Patrick looked thoughtful. "Okay. Thanks for the tip."
"You put the baby back to bed, I'll see them out," said Maria.
Raphael started to go and paused. He turned back. "Merry Christmas, Patrick. Gray. I hope you get that Krampus thing worked out."
"Merry Christmas," Patrick said, in a softer voice than he'd used since Raphael opened the door.
"Merry Christmas to you," I added. "And Angel, I hope Santa brings you an extra special surprise."
"He will! 'Cause I've been extra special good," Angel said earnestly. She was a doll.
Raphael and Angel disappeared down the hall.
"Don't forget that," Maria said, waving a wary hand at Krampus.
Patrick eyed it like it might still bite. "Next stop, exorcism."
"I've got it." I picked it up and started to put it in my pocket, but Patrick held out his hand with a stern look.
"Until we get rid of it, it's my curse to bear."
I handed it over, and he tucked it in his coat.
"Thank you for the hot chocolate and your patience," I said at the door.
Maria smiled. "It's nice to finally meet the infamous Patrick. I hope you'll come back again." She gave him an awkward squeeze on the shoulder. "I'd hug you, but you look so fragile."
"Broken but not beaten." Patrick waved his crutch.
Maria looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice.
"Listen. Raphe, he took care of me after our folks died.
And again after my marido inútil hit the road.
He's a good man. He can be a smartass sometimes, even rude, but he's taken on a lot, made sacrifices he shouldn't have had to make. So cut him some slack, okay?"
"I will," Patrick said with a touch of emotion in his voice.
"Good. Feliz Navidad."
And then, we were back out in the night— Patrick, me, and Krampus.