Day One
The next day Twyla, Linda, and Vanessa met two of Twyla's aunts, their spouses, and five of her cousins at the airport once they landed in Tennessee, and they all rode in a fifteen-passenger shuttle to the cabin.
The group was the first to arrive, and received a guided tour from the property manager before the man left them to enjoy their stay.
Since they were early birds, the group got first dibs on their bedrooms. Twyla and Vanessa chose a room with two queen beds and an attached bath that had both a tiled shower stall and a clawfoot tub that sat beneath a picture window and gave a beautiful view of the wooded property on the side of the cabin.
The cabin boasted enough beds to sleep twenty-five people comfortably, with ten bedrooms and twelve bathrooms. There was a theater complete with dozens of movies, a hot tub, a game room with pool table and air hockey, a pool, and a man-made lake.
There were jet skis and canoes for use on the lake, and pool floaties and a water volleyball net.
The cabin was also fully equipped with dishes, linens, wifi, a well-stocked bar, a housekeeper who came every other day, and chef who was available to prepare all meals and snacks.
Twyla was beyond impressed, and the luxury of the cabin took her mind off of the anxiety that had plagued her all night about the botched ritual.
She'd ended up cutting the remaining truffle in half and starting her chant over.
When the quartered chocolate had melted before she'd finished the chant, she knew that she had fucked up royally, but she continued on anyway.
That night, she slept fitfully, convinced that she was going to wake up salivating for Arturo, but when she opened her eyes at four in the morning, she didn't feel any marked difference.
Instead of bringing relief, that only made her anxiety ratchet up a few notches.
There are consequences to welcoming the spirit world into your life.
Zing's warning blared in Twyla's mind like a foghorn. Just because she wasn't experiencing the side-effect she expected didn't mean one wasn't coming. It was only a matter of when and where.
After they had arrived at the airport and made their way to their gate, Twyla was able to relax and look at her phone. That's when she saw that she had several missed calls from a local number. She had an idea of who it could be, but thankfully didn't have the time to investigate.
The rest of her family began to trickle in and although Twyla was excited to see them, her stomach was in knots as she waited for one face to appear.
All three of her uncles arrived at once, having stopped in town to pick up some barbecue before making the drive up to the cabin, and the smells pulled everyone into the kitchen.
She was oohing and ahhing along with everyone else as the older men peeled back layers of foil over the heavenly-smelling, smoked meat and sides when Arturo and another man walked through the door.
The chatter around her didn't stop—only the attention of a few could be pulled away from the food—but Twyla froze, her eyes on the man who had been on her mind constantly.
Arturo was dressed simply in track pants that hugged his thick thighs—thighs that she'd once caressed—and a fitted t-shirt that molded to the bulging muscles in his arms and shoulders.
He was a thirst-quenching sight for Twyla's sore eyes since she had been actively avoiding him at work, and when Linda rushed over to him and wrapped him in a hug, Twyla took the opportunity to get her guilt-ridden fill.
"Is that him?"
Twyla nodded in answer of Vanessa's whispered question.
"Daaaamn."
"Mmhm." Twyla understood completely.
"Friend."
Peeling her eyes away from Arturo, she turned to Vanessa.
"Hmm?"
"I think God would understand."
Twyla was so caught off guard by that she hollered with laughter.
"Damn, I wanna laugh too," somebody murmured from behind her.
Twyla blushed and looked around the room.
Her eyes clashed with Arturo's who was staring directly at her.
The laughter died in her throat as Arturo left his suitcase near the door and walked toward the kitchen.
He spoke to the people who greeted him, but it was clear that he had a destination in mind when he never stopped his stride.
Twyla's eyes were as wide as saucers by the time Arturo made it to her.
As soon as he stepped in front of her he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug and her eyelids fluttered closed as she took a moment to revel in the warmth and scent of his hard body.
"I missed you," he whispered into her ear in a low tone that was meant for only her.
She stiffened and pulled away.
Why would he say something like that to her, and here of all places? Granted, she hadn't given him an opportunity to say it before now, but the reality was that he shouldn't say it at all. Things weren't the same—would never be the same—and if she had to accept that hard truth, then so did he.
"Arturo…" She trailed off, not wanting to say too much—or anything—in front of so many people.
Thankfully, he let the moment go, releasing her to be greeted by a few others before going back to the front door to retrieve his suitcase. Nelson volunteered to show Arturo and his guest to a room and the three of them disappeared.
"Friend."
Twyla cut her eyes at Vanessa, wary of what was about to come out of the other woman's mouth. "Hmm?"
"I'm just saying. Hella family members were boning in the bible. God know what Arturo look like."
This time, Twyla kept her laugh low. "Vanessa, if you don't get your ass on with that mess!"
"Listen," Vanessa insisted just as everyone was instructed to form a line around the island. "Just pray on it."
Shaking her head, Twyla grabbed a plate off the counter. "I'll be damned—literally—if I ask God to lend me his ear for that type of shit."
Once their plates were piled high with brisket, sausage, macaroni and cheese, green beans, barbecue sauce and thick slices of white bread, they grabbed seats at the long rectangular table that looked like a slab of wood cut from the center of a massive tree in the dining room and dug in.
Some of the family brought their food out onto the covered patio where they could watch the sun set as they ate.
Arturo and the man who he introduced as his cousin Rafael returned and joined them at the table, taking seats directly across from them.
Twyla tried to talk with her cousins as she ate but was distracted by Arturo's unwavering stare.
Unless he was speaking to someone, his eyes were on her.
At one point she looked up at him and was snared by his intense gape.
The look in his eyes was so similar to the one he'd worn just before he'd kissed her back at that restaurant that her heart twisted in her chest. She wished like hell that she hadn't fucked up that spell, or ritual, or whatever the fuck it was, because she needed it more than she had anticipated.