“Toni…”
“Don’t, please,” she said, stopping any excuse I might have for how I’d handled that situation. There was no reasoning. No explaining that would make sense to anyone but myself.
“I was trying to protect my family,” I told her, ignoring her small protest when I reached for her face, holding her head still. “You and Mateo, just like Toni, you’re my family too.”
“That’s not tonight’s discussion.” She glanced to the hall, then down at the blood on the floor. “Go see to your man.” Then Maggie left the room, walking into the back toward the bedroom, and everything got quiet. Everything got still and for once in my life, I hated the silence.
11
Maggie
Only twice in my life had I ever gotten flowers.
Once, the girls in Alejandro’s office had given me flowers the day of our engagement. It was their idea, not his, and something I hadn’t expected.
The other time, Alejandro himself had managed a large bouquet of long stem, blood red roses for our first-year wedding anniversary. It was the last time I remember us ever being happy.
But the bouquet in my arms was unexpected. It was large, likely the largest I’d ever seen and the flowers were ornate and expensive.
“Well,” Vi said, coming into the kitchen, carrying a freshly bathed Mateo in her arms. She watched as I closed the door, nodding a thanks to the delivery guy and moved them to the table, head shaking, then she nodded me over to help her dress my son. “If this is Mrs. Carelli again, why is she sending them here?”
“I’m not sure she knows we’re living together,” I said, my gaze shooting from the naked baby to the flowers on the kitchen table, then to the half-empty boxes that I’d only half-heartedly packed. “If that’s what you would call it.”
“Well, yeah, kid. You do have to pack your things and actually move them the few blocks to your fella’s place if you intend on living with him.” Vi pulled out a diaper, tossing it to me.
“Yeah. I suppose I do.” Mateo squirmed, donning just his diaper and squealed when I grabbed the small tube of lotion from his bag and began rubbing it over his chubby legs. “I’ve got my room almost done and all of my bathroom finished.” I waved my hand, shrugging like those two small feats were something to be proud of.
“Sounds to me like you’re hesitating. Or maybe not real excited about leaving.” Vi helped me tug Mateo’s shirt over his head, fighting with my boy as he struggled against us.
“I’m crazy about him,” I said, glancing again at the flowers, ignoring that small voice in my head that reminded me Smoke didn’t do romantic gestures like flowers thanks to Miss Gimmee. “It’s just…a little strained right now.”
Vi watched me, that small, knowing smile she liked to wear shaking the corner of her mouth. When I tilted my head at her, she shrugged, throwing her arms up like I’d accused her of something. “What?” she asked.
“I know you wanna say something. Spill it.”
She waited, handing Mateo his sippy cup when the boy dropped it on the floor. “Okay, fine,” she said, stretching an arm along the back of the sofa. “I think you’re trying to wreck your own happiness.” She held up her finger when I opened my mouth, ready to argue. “And,” she continued, not letting me interrupt, “despite what a wonderful roommate and friend I am, there is really no reason for you to drag your feet about living with him. The man loves you. He loves your boy. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“Vi…he’s…dangerous.”
“He can protect you,” she went on, “from that asshole ex of yours and his nosey business partner. Not to mention the fact that Smoke Carelli is a gorgeous, sweet man who happens to think you are amazing and beautiful, so much so that he spent three days spoon-feeding you chicken broth, risking infecting himself with strep throat while he put up your best friend and son in his own apartment, so you could get some rest.”
I looked away, feeling guilty and smug at how right she was. I picked up Mateo’s dirty towel, ignoring the flowers and Vi’s dead-on assessment of how much Smoke loved me as I moved into the laundry room beyond the small kitchen.
“And,” Vi went on, “what kind of man takes time out of his busy schedule to get all dirty and gross teaching a woman how to change her oil and takes her and her boy to the lake with his family and changes that kid’s shitty diapers—diapers of a kid he did not make!” When I didn’t answer, too busy separating the dirty clothes, Vi continued. “A man head over heels in love with the baby’s mama, that’s who!”
“Vivian, that’s enough!” I slammed the washing machine lid down and the sound rattled against the white tile surrounding me.
“I’m just sayin’…”
“Well, stop,” I told her, moving back into the living room. The flowers taunted me, teased me when I glanced at them and I didn’t miss Vi’s snicker. “He’s…dangerous.” I nodded at Mateo, looking out the window until the knot in my throat cleared. “It scares me…the world he lives in and how he protects the people he cares about…” Mateo reached for me and I picked him up, kissing his forehead. “It’s one thing for Smoke to watch the baby for a couple of hours but living with him, being part of his life…if anything were to happen to us because of Smoke’s business...”
Vi’s expression shifted from doubt, to worry, then straight into pity. That one I hated the most, but it gave my friend a kinder, gentler cast to her features. She exhaled, moving from the sofa to stand in front of the elaborate bouquet.
“Seems a shame,” she said, bending to inhale the fragrant flowers. “A man with that much good taste and his bank account and you’re thinking he’s too dangerous.” She pulled the small white card from the center of the flowers, opening it when I nodded my permission. “And then these flowers. Like the first ones. Someone is trying to impress you.”
Vivian’s impressed, kind smile shifted as her gaze moved over the card. Then, she dropped her mouth open and gripped the chair in front of her, her fingers instantly beginning to shake.
“What?” I said, adjusting Mateo as I stood next to Vi. “What is it?”
But Vi didn’t answer. She was too shaken by whatever it was she read on that card. Instead of answering, she handed it over, reaching for Mateo, curling him to her chest like she needed his warmth, his scent to reassure her. Like she was petrified it would be the last chance she’d have to take in his sweet smell. When I read the card, I understood why.
Mami,
I’m coming for you.
I’m coming for my boy.
I won’t be long.
—Alejandro
12
Smoke
“What’s the problem?”
My kid brother’s hair flew into his eyes as he leaned against my Audi, his arms curled tight, mouth pinched, jaw clenched like he hadn’t gotten laid in months. I knew better, still the asshole had dragged me out to the park to have a conversation about the same damn thing that he’d been bitching about for weeks. What else? The fucking redhead. I needed him to get a grip but knew that would be harder than him just sucking up his nerves and getting to business.