Her face flushed as she realized she’d just told a hot guy she’d nearly peed her pants.
My face flushed as I realized Amy had just told Eddie about my tuck and roll in the hospital corridor. It was not a crowning moment of glory for me.
I stopped counting and stared at her in horror. It was definitely not the time for a trip down memory lane.
Eddie smiled at Amy. The effect was mesmerizing (even for me, and the smile wasn’t pointed in my direction) and it was all the encouragement Amy needed.
She forged ahead, turning to me, bright-eyed and firmly in the throes of a mini Eddie Daze.
“And when we played that practical joke on David when he had that new girlfriend?” Amy looked back to Eddie, “She was a screaming bitch, by the way, she totally deserved it.”
“That was a good one,” Jody chimed in, licking her finger and counting bills.
“Amy…” I started but Amy was warming to her theme.
“He was having dinner with her at Wazee Supper Club and Jet walked in wearing curlers in her hair, ratty slippers and an old bath robe and started shouting at him about going out with his floosies while she was at home with their six kids.”
“I’ll never forget it,” Jody said, “We all went down to watch. That was worth missing the Broncos on Monday Night Football.”
Amy went on, “Now he’s married to Lisa and we all like her.”
I closed my eyes and silently asked the Good Lord if he was busy and maybe could he help me out.
“And remember when…” Amy started.
The Good Lord asked me to leave a message.
“Amy, Eddie doesn’t want to hear this stuff,” I interrupted.
“Yes I do,” Eddie said.
Wonderful.
Jody’s head came up and she looked closely at me.
“See, he does,” Amy went on, oblivious, and she made to start talking again but Jody came away from her drawer and into Amy’s station.
“I’ll help you count, Jet. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do, what with your Mom and all.”
I felt the tension ease out of my body and I would have kissed her if I didn’t think she’d bitch-slap me for even trying.
“Thanks Jody,” I said.
“I’m so sorry, Jet. I didn’t think,” Amy mumbled and smiled tentatively at Eddie then started to concentrate on my deposit.
I guess the Good Lord got to his messages quickly and sent an angel in the form of Jody as his stand-in.
Whatever. It worked for me.
* * * * *
We walked out of the Credit Union, I threw myself into Eddie’s truck and snatched my travel mug out of the drink holder, taking my first sip of caffeine for the day. I needed it. I actually needed it laced with Jack Daniels but I’d take it as it came.
Eddie got in and turned to me.
“So, you used to work there.”
I avoided his eyes, looked out the windscreen and sipped more coffee.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“You’ll have to teach me the tuck and roll. Maybe I can use it during a shoot out.”
Where were freak flashes of lightening when you needed them? At that point, I didn’t care if it took out me, or Eddie, or both of us.
I turned to him. “Do you get in shoot outs often?”
“Not really.”
“Then you’ll be safe.”
He grinned.
“How’s the kid?” he asked.
I stared at him, confused.
“What kid?”
“The one you had the shoot out with in the hospital,” he answered.
Out of nowhere, I felt the tears hit the backs of my eyes and I sucked in a breath to try and control them.
It was Eddie’s turn to stare at me.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Devin was a good kid and Donna was a good friend. She and her husband moved to Montana after he died, couldn’t face the memories and wanted a fresh start. If her last letter was anything to go by, the tactic wasn’t working.
I got myself under control and said, “You can take me home now.”
“I thought we were going to the grocery store.”
I looked away and sipped coffee.
“If Lavonne’s still at home, I’ll ask her to take me. Lavonne may be small and she can be nice but mostly she’s mean as a snake, no one will mess with her. You can go and do… whatever it is you do on a Saturday.”
He started the car.
“This Saturday, I’m taking you to the grocery store.”
Wonderful.
* * * * *
He took me to the giganto King Soopers on Colorado Boulevard.
I grabbed a cart and hit the store at my usual pace, which was otherwise known as the I-don’t-have-time-for-this-I-had-to-be-out-of-here-twenty-minutes-ago pace.
I threw things in the cart on the trot and Eddie wandered. I lost him in the produce section and he caught up with me while I was price checking canned chilli. I made my choice and started the dash but he caught my arm.
“Are we in a race?” he asked.
I looked at his hand on my arm and then at him. Then I lifted my hand and counted things off on my fingers.
“I have to get home and eat. Then I have to help Mom with her exercises. Then I have to pay bills and balance my checkbook. Then I have to make dinner because Mom and I try to have a sit down dinner on Saturday night no matter what. Then I have to…”
He moved in so close, my breath caught.
“Am I invited to dinner?” he asked.
Damn.
I walked right into that one.
“Don’t you have better things to do? Baseball games to watch? Criminals to bring to justice?”
He shook his head.
What could I say? No?
Okay, maybe I could say no but that’d be rude.
“Oh, I guess,” I sighed (as if that wasn’t rude).
For some reason, he looked amused.
Then we both heard, “Mi hijo!”
I turned to see Blanca headed our way, pushing a cart that was loaded down with enough food to feed the Denver Broncos, the Colorado Rockies and the staff at NORAD. She was trailed by another short, female Eddie relative who had a look on her face that was very similar to the one Eddie was wearing.
Eddie bent low and kissed his Mom on the cheek. Then Blanca walked to me, reached up and grabbed both sides of my face and hauled me down for a big, old smackaroo right on the mouth.
When she let me go, she turned to the girl behind her.
“This is Jet, Eddie’s girl,” she said and then turned back to me, “This is my youngest daughter, Gloria.”
We greeted each other. I didn’t bother telling her I wasn’t Eddie’s anything (or, at least, trying not to be) and I noticed Gloria had a dimple just like Eddie’s.
“You two are grocery shopping,” Gloria said and it was obvious this fact was borderline hilarious to her.
Blanca nodded her head with approval, as if they’d caught us at Dillard’s filling out our wedding list. Then Blanca’s eyes lit. “You’ll come to my house for dinner tonight,” she announced.
No.
No, no, no.
“We’re having dinner at Jet’s, with her Mom,” Eddie answered and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
For about a nanosecond.
Blanca’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Then she burst out in a flood of Spanish and I caught the words, madre de ella, primera, and comida and I knew I was in trouble. Blanca ended on, “Then you come to my house tomorrow.”
No!
No, no, no, a thousand times no.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Eddie got there first.
“We’ll be there at six.”
My mouth stayed open.
This was going to put a major crimp in my plans to keep Eddie at arm’s length (that would be Gulliver’s arm if I was Lilliputian).
“Bring your mother, Chiquita. I
can’t wait to meet her,” Blanca said.
How come everyone was after me but no one could kill me or maim me? It would make my life so much easier.
“Mom would love that,” I told her, and she would. It would be a meeting of the minds. A meeting in hell.
Gloria was smiling, full-on.
“Maybe we should invite the cousins,” she suggested.
I turned and glared at Eddie, thinking maybe he’d help, but instead he wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me into his side.
Blanca stared at us with an expression that could only be described as blissful.
Then she snapped out of it.
“Gloria, get another cart,” Blanca ordered, “we’ll have to go back through. Hasta mañana,” she said and she was off, on such a mission, she went without any kisses good-bye.
I turned to Eddie and, as his arm was around my neck, this put us full-frontal so I tilted my head back. “You could have done something about that,” I snapped.
“Like what?” he answered, his face a lot closer than was comfortable.
I tried to pull back but it didn’t work.
“I don’t know. Politely declined somehow.”
“I’m having dinner with your mother before you have dinner with mine. Come hell or high water, Mamá is gonna one-up your mother somehow. Trust me, sooner is better than later, it gives her less time to plan.”
Without thinking, I said, “My life sucks.”
Eddie tensed.
“It’s dinner with my mother, it isn’t the end of the world.”
It was for me.
“That’s not what I meant.”
It was, in a way, but not in the bad way Eddie took it.
His eyes got serious.
“We need to have another chat,” he said.
“No!” I nearly shouted, panic stricken, “No more chats.”
His brows drew together.
I tried to calm down and said, “At least, not until I figure out what I have to say.”
“How long is that gonna take?” he asked.
About four lifetimes.
Of course, I was going to have to speed it up.
I needed my life to get back to its normal, everyday boringness.
But first, I needed to go to the liquor store and buy a bottle of Jack. I didn’t drink Jack but I thought now was a very good time to take up bourbon.
Instead of imparting any of this information on Eddie, I said, “I don’t know.”
Then he said, “You’ve got until tomorrow.”
My mouth dropped open, then I snapped it shut, then I said, “You’re giving me a deadline?”
He loosened his arm but held me around the neck and pushed the cart with his other hand, moving us forward.
“You aren’t exactly a fast mover and any time I give you, you’ll use to retreat. That’s not gonna happen. So yeah, I’m giving you a deadline.”
I decided it was a good time to stop talking.
We made it through the rest of the shopping ordeal without incident until we hit the check-out line. I wasn’t paying attention and before I knew it, Eddie slid his credit card into the card-reading machine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Paying for your groceries,” he answered.
I stared. Then I glared. “You can’t pay for my groceries,” I said.
“Why not?”
I didn’t know.
“I don’t know,” Then it hit me, “They aren’t your groceries,” I finished.
“I’m eating some of them, aren’t I?”
This was true, he was.
He turned from me, back to the cashier.
Guess that conversation was over.
I bent over and pounded my head on the little check-writing desk.
“I’d let him pay for my groceries,” the cashier decided to throw in.
I didn’t respond.
I walked to the end of the check-out, commandeered the cart the minute the bag boy put my last bag in it and, without looking back, motored out the door.
* * * * *
I saw Mr. Greasy Coveralls pulling my car into the lot of the apartment building just before Eddie and I swung in.
I felt a moment of elation. My car was not only running, it looked waxed and happy-shiny, like it had a new lease on life.
Eddie parked, I threw open the door to the truck and walked to Mr. Greasy Coveralls.
“It’s fixed!” I cried.
“Yeah, it had a blah, blah, blah, with its blahdity, blah, blah. Then there was the blah, blah blah.”
Of course, he used words for the “blah blahs” but I didn’t understand a single one of them.
“How much?” I asked, looking happily at my car, which represented freedom, independence and no more borrowed rides or bus and taxi fares.
“Seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
My breath caught, my heart seized and I was sure I was going to throw up.
I looked at Mr. Greasy Coveralls.
“Why didn’t you call me before doing anything?” I asked.
Mechanics were supposed to call, tell you what it was going to cost before sucking away your lifeblood. That’s how it worked. I thought it was the law.
“That’s the charge before detailing it, the oil change, putting in a new filter and plugs and changing the wipers. Oh, and you had a brake light out.”
I started hyperventilating.
Mr. Greasy Coveralls watched me like I was a particularly inept performance artist. Then he looked at Eddie. Then back at me when I yelled.
“I don’t have that kind of money! The car isn’t even worth that kind of money!”
He looked back at Eddie as Eddie’s hand slid against the small of my back.
“It’s taken care of,” Mr. Greasy Coveralls said at the exact same time that Eddie said, “Jet.”
“Taken…” I started to say and then it hit me. Mom, Ada and me watching through the window as Eddie talked to Mr. Greasy Coveralls.
I turned and stared at Eddie. “You didn’t.”
A car swung in, Mr. Greasy Coveralls handed Eddie my car keys and got in the other car and took off. I didn’t take my eyes off Eddie the whole time.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I demanded.
He watched me closely.
“I did,” he replied.
I considered scratching his eyes out. Then I thought that probably wasn’t very nice, I mean, he just spent, like, a thousand dollars on my piece of shit car.
Then I considered screaming. But I decided to reserve my energy. Who knew what was going to happen next and I needed to be prepared.
So, instead, I stomped to the truck. I wrenched open the door to get the grocery bags but I was pulled out of the way and the door was shut by Eddie.
That was it, I could take no more, and I whirled around to face him.
“I’ll pay you back, every penny. The minute we get upstairs, I’ll write you a check.”
It would almost break the bank but I was going to do it.
“I’m not gonna take your money,” he said.
“You are. I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.”
Especially not you, I thought but did not say.
His hand went to my belly and he pushed me gently against the truck.
“That’s the point. I want you indebted to me.”
He what?
“You what?” I yelled.
He closed in and I had nowhere to retreat. Anyway, I was too freaked out to retreat.
“If you’re indebted to me, you’re connected to me. Whatever makes you take care of your Mom, your Dad, kids getting chemo and friends who make bad decisions on who to date is gonna make you stay connected to me because you owe me. You aren’t connected to me, the minute this is all over with your Dad, you’re gone. I’m makin’ certain that doesn’t happen.”
I didn’t know what to say. He’d totally figured me out.
How did that happen?
Nevertheless, I tried
to speak.
“I… you…”
He cut me off, bent his head closer and started talking. I could smell him and I could feel his heat and I had to admit, it was getting to me.
“Whatever your next disaster, I’m gonna be there. Buying your groceries, fixin’ your car, dealin’ with your Dad, I don’t give a fuck. I want you to owe me, it gives me the upper hand and I’m gonna need the upper hand to wear you down. And Jet…”
He stopped, he was looking into my eyes and he had that look he had this morning, after Mom and Lavonne came home and before I walked out of my room. The look made my belly feel funny and my knees get weak.
“What?” I asked. Honestly the suspense was killing me.
“There’s one thing today proved.”
He moved in even closer, his body was brushing mine and his face was an inch away.
“What?” I kind of shouted. What could I say? It’d been a rough day; I was close to losing it.
“Whatever happens, you’re worth it and I don’t want to hear you say again that you’re not. Get me?”
I felt that warm strangeness hit me and I had no choice but to nod.
Chapter Eleven
Dinner at My Place
“I’ll get it!” Mom yelled.
I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner, freaking out and I knew Eddie was at the door. He’d left after helping me bring up the groceries, saying he had things to do. I was glad for the break. He was getting to me, wearing me down like he said he would, and I needed to regroup.
I’d done my chores and then got ready for Smithie’s so I was in my slut makeup but wearing my day outfit. I’d change into my Smithie’s uniform at the very last minute.
Mom had gone weirdly quiet, sensing my mood, but also, I thought, she was up to something. I couldn’t worry about it. I had enough worries to last a lifetime.
Mom wheeled into the door of the kitchen. She’d overtaxed herself that day and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Nonetheless, she wasn’t missing tonight, no way, no how. When I told her Eddie was coming to dinner, she’d put both her hands to her cheeks, her mouth dropped open and tears filled her eyes. Such was the reaction of Moms with big dreams for their daughters when hot guys with good jobs and fancy trucks came over to dinner.
I decided to wait to tell her we were going to Blanca’s tomorrow. She was already residing on cloud nine, it was too soon for a promotion to cloud ten.