34. Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter 34
Leslie
T he second Dot drove away from my mom, I crumbled in Gabby’s arms in the backseat. As intense as my mother had been over the years, never could I imagine she’d do something like this. Force me into the back of a car with strange women assaulting me?
“Let me see your neck,” Gabby said, gently lifting my chin for a better look. She tapped Dot’s shoulder. “Should we take her to the hospital to be checked out? She’s all bruised.”
Dot kept her eyes on the road. “Let’s get her home and washed up and then Leslie can decide what she wants. Are you hurt anywhere else besides your neck?”
It was hard to tell what hurt from my backseat wrestling match and what Dot inflicted during her yoga class. “I don’t think so. Maybe some random bruises here and there from them mauling me. I mean, where did she find two women who would do such a thing? Jump a friend’s daughter and strangle her?”
“For all we know, she hired them. Your mom never had many friends, let alone ones willing to drive up from New Mexico for a stunt like this.”
That was far worse, but it was true that my mom rarely mentioned whom she spent time with the few times we were on the phone and not talking about my diet regimen. Which wasn’t too often. She once mentioned a boyfriend, but for all I knew, he was out of the picture.
I leaned into Gabby’s shoulder and closed my eyes. Suddenly my body felt leaden. All I wanted was a hot soak in Risto’s bathtub.
Dot pulled into her driveway, and the two of them accompanied me next door to Risto’s house.
“Did anyone call him?” I asked.
“I’ll do that right now,” Dot said. “Gabby, why don’t you help her get a bath going?”
I followed my cousin up to Risto’s bedroom. She deposited me to undress and went to the bathroom. The tub faucet splashed to life, then quieted as the water filled. Cabinet doors opened and closed.
“Aha! I knew it.” She stepped into the doorway to wiggle a bottle of lavender luxury. “Guess you’re in luck. Risto once mentioned taking a bubble bath, turned beet red, and never spoke of it again.”
That man is full of surprises.
I stretched to lift my yoga shirt over my head, tangling myself in the gaping tears. Guess those women did more damage than I thought.
“Gabs, can you help me get this off?”
My cousin pulled the bathroom door closed to detangle me from my top.
She lifted it off and gasped. “?Dios mio! I’m sorry, but you’ve got to press charges.”
“That bad?” I asked, not wanting to look.
But she spun me around to face the wall mirror over Risto’s dresser.
My neck was one deep red blotch, and my shoulders and upper arms bore finger imprints from where the women had grabbed me. There were random other bruises on my torso. Alongside those were the fuller belly, rounded hips, and curvy Molina ass my mother hated.
A chilling thought emerged. The world may not like the new me any more than my mom did. But I had to be okay with that. People embraced me before and I was still miserable. It wasn’t until I loved myself that I began to live.
“Do you mind?” Gabby held up her cell phone. “We should probably document your injuries. Just in case.”
I nodded, and she moved me near the window for better light. I twirled to help her capture every angle.
“I’m so sorry it came to this,” she said, giving me a hug. Her warm tears fell onto my bare shoulders.
“Gabs?”
“Hmm?”
“You might want to check the bath before it overflows…”
“Oh, shoot!” She dashed into the bathroom, where a mountain of suds crested over the tub edge. “Guess I put too much in!”
I followed. We stared at the tower of bubbles, then each other, and burst out laughing.
Ten minutes later, all the stress had melted away, the hot water caressing the day's tense events out of my muscles. Gabby sat on the closed toilet seat, the two of us chatting about all the absurd things my mom had done over the years. Dot joined in, and bath time became a cathartic purging of Diana Allen from my mind, my psyche, and my heart.
Little Diana drowned today too. She gurgled for mercy before I sloshed her down the overflow drain, then blocked her escape with a pruned toe. A foreign lightness came over me, from being in my body alone. The thoughts were mine, and the hopes were too. I luxuriated over my skin, sliding my hands over its curves and newfound muscles. The bruises would heal. Just like the rest of me.
“Leslie? Leslie!” Risto’s panicked voice boomed from downstairs.
“Up here! In the bathroom!” Dot yelled.
Risto thundered up the stairs, arriving breathless as he braced himself in the doorway. “What happened?”
In our giddiness, we burst out laughing.
“Diana happened, that’s what,” Gabby said, barely able to contain herself.
By the time Risto got the full story, my water grew tepid. Gabby and Dot excused themselves. Gabby to head home, while Dot figured we’d want some privacy for the big reveal. I’d been hiding my wounds under collapsing bubbles.
The second I stood in the tub, Risto fell apart.
“Jesus, Leslie! It’s… you’re…”
“I’m okay now. It looks worse than it feels.”
“How could she do this!?”
My body glistened with wetness, which soaked his clothes the moment he wrapped me in his arms. I clung to him as he guided me out of the tub, then blotted me dry with a fluffy towel. Not since childhood had I been so carefully tended. Risto’s face lined with worry and concentration as he worked, lifting my elbows to blot every patch of moisture off my skin. His tenderness was exactly what my broken soul needed.
When finished, he planted a whisper-light kiss on my lips. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll make you some dinner.”
“You’re not staying?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“You said, make me some dinner. Are you not eating?”
Risto flustered. “I’m, I didn’t mean….”
“Jose and Freddie can cover for you tonight, don’t you think? That’s what you meant? Going back to the restaurant?”
He exhaled, hugging me again. “Of course, yes. Make us dinner.”
We exited the bathroom, the bedroom’s air conditioning rippling goosebumps across my skin. Risto headed downstairs, where the comforting sounds of kitchen activity filtered up the stairs. A short while later, I joined him and set the table for two, lighting the candle tapers that stood at attention in their wrought iron holders.
The wicks crackled in objection, dancing shadows around the space. I sat to enjoy the view of Risto making magic with his hands.
“What are we having?” I called over.
“Pan-seared fish and some greens. I have leftover rice and beans too, if you want.”
I was about to say, I’d never turn down rice and beans, but that wasn’t true. For years, I declined, regretting it every time. Watching others eat, I wished to be like them, yet feared the consequences more. Ease settled over me, now free from Little Diana’s pre-meal poison. The only voice that came was mine. “I’d love some rice and beans. Thanks.”
Moments later, he pinched greens out of the pan with tongs and swirled them into hubs on two plates. A filet of salmon leaned against each, its edges golden and crispy. Risto returned to snatch a bowl of rice and beans, which he placed in front of me on the table.
“Aren’t we sharing?” I slid it between us.
“Not in the mood tonight.” He shifted it away, into my plate’s orbit.
“Suit yourself!” I chirped, digging my fork into the source of the briny aromas. Peppery with a hint of garlic, the salmon was just what the doctor ordered.
“This is heaven. Thank you.”
I leaned in and we shared a luxurious kiss. Warm and wet, the zing awakened my longing. But I’d need energy for what I had planned for that man. We refocused on our plates and ate in silence, the soft music Risto had playing finally registering.
I sighed, my eyes dipping closed to take it all in. Bruised as I was, I’d never felt so at peace or so totally nourished. Heart, mind, and soul.