Chapter Two #2
His eyes widened for just a second. “I-I not know you have daughter. I’m so sorry she in hospital. What her name?”
I grinned, tempted to tell her my girl wasn’t human.
She was my daughter, though…my furry little daughter.
“Her name’s Lola. She had some tests, is all.
The doctor wanted to keep her overnight because she had a bad reaction to some of the medicine they gave her, but she’s okay now. I’m gonna pick her up in the mornin’.”
“Oh,” he said, “well, then, maybe you should do that instead of take me to police station. Es importante for you to take care of your girl.”
“It’s fine, Cachi. In fact, after we finish up at the police station, you can go with me to pick her up.” I held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. “Please. Come with me. I’d love it if you met Lola.”
“Seriously? Pero…you no even know me…and what if she find out what I do for work? She probably hate me or maybe to hate you because you’re friends with a man like me.”
I frowned. “A man like you? All I see is a very sweet, funny, young man who works hard to help support his mama. You have nothin’ to be ashamed about, Cachi, and I never want to hear you talk like that about yourself again.
” He opened his mouth again, and I held up a hand.
“Let me finish.” He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “And as far as you knowin’ me, or me knowin’ you, that’s what gettin’ to know someone means, sugar.
” I jangled my keys. “Now, get inside before your mama comes out to get you.” I pointed to the front porch light which had flickered on as the front door opened.
Cachi turned around just as a small, female voice called out. “Cachi? Is that you, mijo?”
“Si, soy yo, Mamá,” Cachi called. “Estoy llegando.” He spun back around and smiled shyly. “You are so stubborn.” He sighed. “Okay, you pick me up. I see you at nine.”
I grinned. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.
” I had to stop myself from pulling him back into my arms and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe right there in front of his mama.
Instead, I waved at her. She was standing on the porch with her hands on her hips looking like she was going to murder Cachi, me, or both of us.
Cachi laughed when he caught me waving at his mama. “Go now and ?por Dios!, drive carefully on the way home. I no want to read about you getting hurt because you too tired to drive.”
“One more thing.”
“What?”
I reached out, wiggling my fingers. “Give me your phone.”
“?Por qué?”
“Because.” I paused. “You know you don’t have to argue about everythin’. Now give me your phone.”
“Fine.”
He fished his phone out of his jeans and handed it to me. After putting in my number, I handed it back. “Now you have my number. I’ll expect a text, so I’ll have yours.”
He grinned. “Okay.”
I smiled at him before walking around the car.
“Please, to be careful on the drive home,” he reiterated.
I nodded. “I’ll stop and pick up some coffee. Good night, sugar.”
He smiled. “Buenas noches, cowboy.”
I got into the car and drove away from the curb, watching him standing on the sidewalk until I got to the end of the block, then made my turn, heading home.
CACHI
I watched Rex drive away in his battered, old car and then turned, jogging up the path to the front door. I dropped my duffel on the porch and hugged my mamá. She melted against me for just a moment and then leaned back, sniffing the air.
“What is that smell, mijo? You come home all the time with it.”
I wasn’t about to tell her the oil I used to dance had a sickly-sweet smell so I chose something else, lifting my hands. “Shoot, Mamá. I’m sorry. The bar was muy busy tonight. We wash our hands a lot. Is the soap they have.”
She smiled sweetly. “It’s okay. Come inside. You need shower before bed.”
I nodded, picking up my duffel bag, wincing when I realized I’d used the wrong hand. Of course, she noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nada, Mamá.”
She shook her head. “We speak English. I need learn better.”
We’d spent all our lives speaking Spanish back home in San Juan, but after coming to the States, we’d both tried our best to fit in by speaking English.
Apparently, now that meant we should speak it at home too.
I didn’t mind and since her English wasn’t as good as mine, I thought it wouldn’t hurt for either of us to work harder at it.
I transferred my bag to the other hand and walked into the house which smelled of something delicious.
My stomach growled as I realized it’d been hours since I’d last had something to eat right before work.
“Something smells amazing.” I heard the door shut behind me as I headed for the kitchen. “Did you cook tonight?”
“Carlotta…she cook chile rellenos.” She followed me into the kitchen, walking to the stove where a covered tray sat. “?Tienes hambre?”
I nodded. “Sí, Mamá.” My auntie, Carlotta, made the best chile rellenos I’d ever tasted. She stuffed them with fried potato and Mexican cheese before dipping them in batter and frying them. In the service porch, I dropped my dirty clothes into the washer before starting it up.
By the time I got back to the kitchen, a steaming plate lay on the table.
She’d set out small bowls of homemade corn salsa, guacamole, and crema to go with the food.
I grinned as I sat down and picked up a fork.
She sat across from me with a cup of tea.
A long time ago, I realized that nothing made her happier than seeing me enjoy my food.
Both she and her sister were amazing cooks.
They took turns tempting me with food, always telling me I was too thin for my own good.
After polishing off half my plate, feeling her eyes on me the whole time, I finally glanced up. “Okay, what is it? Something is on your mind…pero…why you up so late?”
She pursed her lips. “You know I no sleep when mi bebé, he is no home. It may be surprise to you, but even when I no come to greet you on the porch, I still wait for you, Cachi.”
Any other time, I would find her English absolutamente encantador, but tonight, knowing she’d tried to sleep but couldn’t because I was late, I felt nothing but guilt. “But is so late, Mamá. You need your sleep.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Pfft. What I need, is to know my Cachi, he gets home safe.” She leaned forward. “I always listen for the sound of your car, Cachi, but tonight, when no tires on driveway, I get up and wait to see what is happen. And what you think I see? A man drive mi bebé home.”
“My—ah—my friend gave me a ride.”
“Si. I see that. Where is your car?”
I hated lying so I chose a partial truth. “I had a problem with it so my friend, he drive me home.” It was a stretch to call Rex my friend and I definitely wasn’t about to admit I’d only met him tonight.
She nodded, seemingly pacified for the moment as she waved her hand at my plate. “You eat and then tell me about this man. He is nice?”
I nodded, swiping a chunk of poblano through the tangy red sauce they swam in. “Yes, Mamá. He’s very nice. You would like him and I introduce you when he come to take me to my car tomorrow, if you no have to go to work.”
She smiled. “Good. I will be home. No work tomorrow. Francisco, he closes the store.”
I almost choked on my food, grabbing the glass of guava juice she’d put on the table, downing almost half of it before I could speak. “Why is Tio Francisco closing the store?”
“Francisco and Carlotta have counting.”
I frowned, trying to figure out what counting could be. It dawned on me. “Like…inventory?”
“Inventario, si! They are very busy.”
“But they don’t need you to help them?” I wished there was a way—any way—to get out of introducing her to Rex. She’d sense how he felt about me in a heartbeat. I certainly sensed his interest in me, and my madre was even more perceptive than I was.
She shook her head emphatically. “No. Francisco, he say, ‘Victoria, you stay home and watch your telenovelas.’”
“Why? They don’t need extra pair of hands?”
She shook her head and stood from the table, taking her cup and saucer over to the sink. “Please clean your plates before you sleep, Cachi. You know Carlotta, she hate the dirty dishes in sink.” She walked over and bent to kiss me on the cheek, patting both shoulders. “And please to shower.”
I chuckled, reaching up to pat her hands. “Okay, Mamita. Good night.”
“Duerme bien, mijo.”
“Gracias, Mamá. You sleep well too.” I watched her leave before finishing my food and cleaning the dishes.
As much as I loved Francisco and Carlotta for giving me and Mamá a place to live, I reminded myself that I had to stick to the rules.
When we’d come to the States, they welcomed us with open arms. They’d given my mamá a bedroom of her own, and me the use of a pull-out day bed in Carlotta’s small sewing room along with half a small closet in there.
I showered, taking special care not to flex my sore wrist, thinking about the tall Texan who’d come to my rescue as I washed oil off my body.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome man.
I wasn’t sure what to think about Rex wanting to introduce me to Lola, though.
It made me rethink my certainty about Rex being gay.
Certainly, he could be bi with a wife or a girlfriend, though he was probably single since he’d come out to a gay bar to either dance or find a hook up for the night.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t asked. Then again, I wasn’t used to having to ask guys who were bar patrons.
I finished toweling off and crawled into bed, happy to have a safe place to lay my head.
I really was grateful to my aunt and uncle.
Francisco had readily offered to have mamá work in the store and then insisted she get paid for it.
He could have just as easily said that he’d make her work in trade for free rent and a safe roof over both our heads but our family wasn’t like that.
They were kind and generous in all ways and I was completely blessed to have them in my life.
I lay there replaying everything that had happened at work and afterward, remembering how Rex had faced off with Terry and his two friends.
I’d been terrified when they came after me, but most of all, I’d been impressed that Rex had stood up to them.
He’d instantly put himself between me and trouble, not even knowing whether they were armed with more than hatred and bigotry fed by alcohol.
A thought suddenly occurred to me and I sat bolt upright in bed, reaching for my phone.
I swiped it and found the contact he’d put into it.
Rex Monroe. I smiled. He hadn’t even told me his last name.
“Monroe,” I said out loud. It rolled off my tongue nicely.
I quickly created a new contact and saved it to my favorites before texting him.
Here is my number, cowboy. See you in the morning.
After sending it, I was setting it aside when it beeped, another text from him.
See you then. Sweet dreams, sugar.
I shook my head, snorting to myself. If I had tried, I couldn’t have met a nicer man.
This time, I did set down the phone and lay back in bed.
I stared at the popcorn ceiling and a large water spot from a leaky roof before Tio Francisco and I replaced the shingles last fall.
I really was happy here. Meeting Rex and telling him my story about coming to the States had been out of character for me.
I never opened up about myself with men.
What made it so easy to talk to the big cowboy, I wondered?
As surprised as I was by it, I knew I was ready for something good. Who knew.
Maybe Rex would turn out to be the best surprise ever.