Rock Chick Regret
Page 63
And I wanted my Mom back.
“I want my Mom back,” I said into Shirleen’s shoulder and realized that, somewhere between her pulling me in her arms and that moment, we were joined by the others in a group hug.
“Sh, child,” Shirleen said and someone’s hand stroked my hair.
“I really hate him,” I whispered.
“Sh,” Shirleen responded.
The air changed and the change was so strong, my head come up.
The door had opened and Hector was there. He looked about ten times more angry than he did that morning when I’d been stupid and let Ren hold me a shade too long – not that I could have even thought that was possible but there it was, written all over him.
Alaskan Hottie was with him.
Hector stalked toward me and the girls and Ralphie disbursed. I stared and wiped my eyes as he crossed the room in long, angry strides.
“What did I do now?” I cried when he was close.
I put my hand up, he walked right into it and his arms went around me.
“I heard the call,” he said, looking down at me, face still full of rage.
I blinked (yes, again!). “You did?”
“We bugged your phone.”
Of course. They bugged my phone.
“Your father’s slime,” he continued, his voice vibrating with anger.
I couldn’t refute him, he spoke fact.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
His arms got tighter and my hand slid up his chest to his shoulder. My other hand joined it on the opposite side and I tilted my head back further. He watched me a second, that second turned to two then to three.
Then his face lost some of its rage (though, not all) and he promised, “You will be.”
My stomach pitched.
His arms got tighter and I watched, fascinated, as the rage disappeared from Mr. Mood Swing’s face, warmth replaced it and his head dipped closer.
“Agent Chavez, oo Agent Chavez?” he teased, grinning.
I closed my eyes.
Please, somebody, kill me.
He gave me a gentle shake.
I opened my eyes.
His mouth went to my ear and he murmured, “I’ll look forward to hearing that.”
Before I could retort, his head came around, he touched my lips with his, let me go then he was gone.
I stared at the door.
Shirleen appeared at my side. “I tell you, six weeks ago, you asked me to take my pick, I woulda picked Luke. Now I’m thinkin’ I’d like me a little piece of that boy.”
“Shirleen!” Ava exclaimed on a giggle.
Shirleen looked at Ava. “Your boy’s still hot,” she assured her.
I looked at Ralphie.
He was smiling at me. I smiled back.
Then I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
* * * * *
“So, have you gotten a mi amor yet?” Indy asked, her hip up against her father’s kitchen counter, a cup of coffee halfway to her mouth, a dishtowel slung over her shoulder, a grin playing at her lips.
“No,” I replied and put the last dried glass away. “But I’ve had a mi corazón.”
“Oo, a mi corazón,” Indy smiled.
“What’s this?” Ally asked, putting her palms on the counter on either side of her and pulling herself up to sit by Indy.
“Spanish endearments, Sadie’s graduated from mamita to mi corazón,” Indy told Ally.
“What’s that mean?” Roxie asked, coming to the group after putting some leftovers away and closing the fridge with her foot.
“She’s gone from ‘babe’ to ‘my heart’,” Indy answered.
I saw Ally’s dancing eyes moved to me. “Chickie, you are in trouble.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
They all laughed.
* * * * *
We’d had dinner at Tom’s.
By “we” I meant Lee and Indy, Hank (Lee and Ally’s older brother, he was very nice and they all looked alike, tall, dark and gorgeous) and Roxie, Ally, Tom, Hector and me.
Then after dessert, Tom pulled out the photos.
There were loads of them.
I knew he went out of his way. Some of the photos were really old, from back in the days when my Mom was in high school. He must have been up in his attic for hours.
I wanted to try to pretend the pictures didn’t fascinate me but I couldn’t.
I remembered my Mom as sweet and loving but also quiet and subdued. The photos showed a different Mom, laughing and smiling and full of life. I couldn’t help but pour over them and even laughed when the others told stories. Lee, Indy, Hank and Ally didn’t remember my Mom but they had funny (and slightly crazy) stories to tell about their lives while they sifted through other photos. Tom, however, did remember my Mom and he had funny (and slightly crazy) stories to share about her, Katherine and Kitty Sue.
There was one photo I stared at for longer than the rest. It was of the “whole family” (as Tom called them) but, for some reason, my grandmother was in it too.
My grandfather had died before Mom married my father. My father’s parents were, as he described for as long as I could remember, “dead to me”. However I knew when they both died within a year of each other when I was a freshman at Denver University. My Mom’s Mom died when I was three.
I had no memory of my grandmother but the photo showed her holding me, my Mom’s arm around her, Kitty Sue and Katherine close to them, Tom and Malcolm close to their wives, kids scattered around their legs.
My grandmother and Mom had their foreheads together, faces tilted down, smiles huge as they looked at me.
Tom noticed my attention to the picture; he leaned toward me and whispered, “You can keep that one.”
I should have said no, it wasn’t polite to take it but I didn’t say no. I looked at him, knowing my eyes were moist and nodded. Then I slipped it in my purse the first chance I got.
Not much later, the women went to the kitchen to do the dishes and I heard male laughter in the dining room as I heard female laughter all around me in the kitchen.
Dinner, the trips down memory lane, the laughter… it was nice.
But it was scary.
It was scary because I could get used to it.
* * * * *
“So, how are things going with you two?” Ally asked, eyes on me.
“Who?” I asked back.
“Who?” Ally repeated on a grin. “You and Hector, you idiot.”
Me and Hector.
Oh my.
How to explain? Impossible!
So, I shrugged.
“Come on, give,” Ally pressed.
“I want my Mom back,” I said into Shirleen’s shoulder and realized that, somewhere between her pulling me in her arms and that moment, we were joined by the others in a group hug.
“Sh, child,” Shirleen said and someone’s hand stroked my hair.
“I really hate him,” I whispered.
“Sh,” Shirleen responded.
The air changed and the change was so strong, my head come up.
The door had opened and Hector was there. He looked about ten times more angry than he did that morning when I’d been stupid and let Ren hold me a shade too long – not that I could have even thought that was possible but there it was, written all over him.
Alaskan Hottie was with him.
Hector stalked toward me and the girls and Ralphie disbursed. I stared and wiped my eyes as he crossed the room in long, angry strides.
“What did I do now?” I cried when he was close.
I put my hand up, he walked right into it and his arms went around me.
“I heard the call,” he said, looking down at me, face still full of rage.
I blinked (yes, again!). “You did?”
“We bugged your phone.”
Of course. They bugged my phone.
“Your father’s slime,” he continued, his voice vibrating with anger.
I couldn’t refute him, he spoke fact.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
His arms got tighter and my hand slid up his chest to his shoulder. My other hand joined it on the opposite side and I tilted my head back further. He watched me a second, that second turned to two then to three.
Then his face lost some of its rage (though, not all) and he promised, “You will be.”
My stomach pitched.
His arms got tighter and I watched, fascinated, as the rage disappeared from Mr. Mood Swing’s face, warmth replaced it and his head dipped closer.
“Agent Chavez, oo Agent Chavez?” he teased, grinning.
I closed my eyes.
Please, somebody, kill me.
He gave me a gentle shake.
I opened my eyes.
His mouth went to my ear and he murmured, “I’ll look forward to hearing that.”
Before I could retort, his head came around, he touched my lips with his, let me go then he was gone.
I stared at the door.
Shirleen appeared at my side. “I tell you, six weeks ago, you asked me to take my pick, I woulda picked Luke. Now I’m thinkin’ I’d like me a little piece of that boy.”
“Shirleen!” Ava exclaimed on a giggle.
Shirleen looked at Ava. “Your boy’s still hot,” she assured her.
I looked at Ralphie.
He was smiling at me. I smiled back.
Then I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
* * * * *
“So, have you gotten a mi amor yet?” Indy asked, her hip up against her father’s kitchen counter, a cup of coffee halfway to her mouth, a dishtowel slung over her shoulder, a grin playing at her lips.
“No,” I replied and put the last dried glass away. “But I’ve had a mi corazón.”
“Oo, a mi corazón,” Indy smiled.
“What’s this?” Ally asked, putting her palms on the counter on either side of her and pulling herself up to sit by Indy.
“Spanish endearments, Sadie’s graduated from mamita to mi corazón,” Indy told Ally.
“What’s that mean?” Roxie asked, coming to the group after putting some leftovers away and closing the fridge with her foot.
“She’s gone from ‘babe’ to ‘my heart’,” Indy answered.
I saw Ally’s dancing eyes moved to me. “Chickie, you are in trouble.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
They all laughed.
* * * * *
We’d had dinner at Tom’s.
By “we” I meant Lee and Indy, Hank (Lee and Ally’s older brother, he was very nice and they all looked alike, tall, dark and gorgeous) and Roxie, Ally, Tom, Hector and me.
Then after dessert, Tom pulled out the photos.
There were loads of them.
I knew he went out of his way. Some of the photos were really old, from back in the days when my Mom was in high school. He must have been up in his attic for hours.
I wanted to try to pretend the pictures didn’t fascinate me but I couldn’t.
I remembered my Mom as sweet and loving but also quiet and subdued. The photos showed a different Mom, laughing and smiling and full of life. I couldn’t help but pour over them and even laughed when the others told stories. Lee, Indy, Hank and Ally didn’t remember my Mom but they had funny (and slightly crazy) stories to tell about their lives while they sifted through other photos. Tom, however, did remember my Mom and he had funny (and slightly crazy) stories to share about her, Katherine and Kitty Sue.
There was one photo I stared at for longer than the rest. It was of the “whole family” (as Tom called them) but, for some reason, my grandmother was in it too.
My grandfather had died before Mom married my father. My father’s parents were, as he described for as long as I could remember, “dead to me”. However I knew when they both died within a year of each other when I was a freshman at Denver University. My Mom’s Mom died when I was three.
I had no memory of my grandmother but the photo showed her holding me, my Mom’s arm around her, Kitty Sue and Katherine close to them, Tom and Malcolm close to their wives, kids scattered around their legs.
My grandmother and Mom had their foreheads together, faces tilted down, smiles huge as they looked at me.
Tom noticed my attention to the picture; he leaned toward me and whispered, “You can keep that one.”
I should have said no, it wasn’t polite to take it but I didn’t say no. I looked at him, knowing my eyes were moist and nodded. Then I slipped it in my purse the first chance I got.
Not much later, the women went to the kitchen to do the dishes and I heard male laughter in the dining room as I heard female laughter all around me in the kitchen.
Dinner, the trips down memory lane, the laughter… it was nice.
But it was scary.
It was scary because I could get used to it.
* * * * *
“So, how are things going with you two?” Ally asked, eyes on me.
“Who?” I asked back.
“Who?” Ally repeated on a grin. “You and Hector, you idiot.”
Me and Hector.
Oh my.
How to explain? Impossible!
So, I shrugged.
“Come on, give,” Ally pressed.
