Hector (40 page)

This was really happening, and while a part of her wanted to
squeal like a schoolgirl in delight, another part of her, the one she needed to
kill and bury already, was setting off warning sirens that screamed this was
just too good to be true.

Chapter 24

Since introducing Charlee to Abel and the guys the day
before, Hector felt even more certain that taking this leap was the right thing
to do. He hadn’t expected to be telling any of them about Charlee so soon. He
figured he’d mention her slowly, letting the idea that he was actually taking
someone serious simmer with them for a while. He was certain none of them would
buy into it. One thing he’d always made sure of in the past and they all knew
was he’d never call a girl his girlfriend unless she really was. This was the
first time any of them had ever heard him say it, not like some of the guys at
the gym who, for the sake of making the chicks they were out with happy, did so
easily. Hector didn’t play those kinds of games, and that’s why he’d made it
clear to Charlee that from here on there’d be no guessing games.

He was so serious about getting this right he’d even responded to
the text he got from Lisa last night, ending any interaction she might still
have in mind—even just grabbing a burger, which she seemed to think was
innocent. Any guy wanting to take Charlee out, even if it was for just a burger,
would certainly grate Hector the wrong way. He’d cross that bridge if and when
he ever had to and deal with it accordingly. In the meantime, he wasn’t giving
Charlee any reason to believe that he’d be okay with even that kind of
open
relationship.

Yesterday, Abel had totally wrecked Hector’s plans. Hector had
actually thrown a blanket and a small cooler with a four-pack of wine coolers
in the back of his truck before picking Charlee up, something Drew had given
him the heads up on via text. If he was going to get Charlee anything to drink,
wine coolers were best and one or two tops. Hector hadn’t been looking to get
Charlee drunk or even doing anything with her beyond what they’d done so far,
but he was shooting for romantic and relaxing. So he’d texted Drew beforehand
to get a heads up. Unfortunately, the coolers never made it out of his truck.

Getting the inside scoop from Drew, however, was something that
was going to stop. He was putting an end to the texts between them that would
give him the upper hand with Charlee. It wasn’t fair, and he’d been dead
serious when he made it clear to Charlee that trust was something he thought
could make or break this deal. He’d just wanted yesterday to be as perfect as
possible, but that was it: no more sneaking around getting inside information
he should really be getting straight from Charlee.

This was why that morning when he was tempted to text Drew to ask
if she thought Charlee might freak out about meeting his mom this soon, he held
off. He did however text her to thank her. He mentioned how he knew now how
sneaky she was. Charlee told him she hadn’t talked of moving back home in weeks,
but, regardless, he’d never been so grateful to anyone in his life.

Drew’s only response to him calling her sneaky was a
winky
face, and then she graciously offered to text him a
list of all of
Charlee’s
favorite things. She said it
would make him the best boyfriend ever. As tempted as he was to take her up on
that, he had to pass. It just didn’t feel right. He said it already felt as if
he cheated. From here on, it would be all him. He’d figure this out on his own
one way or another.

Before dropping Charlee off the night before, he, of course, made
arrangements to see her today. He’d always rolled his eyes at those guys who were
so damn whipped on their girls that they had to be with them
all
the time. Well, he was certainly
eating crow now because he hated to say goodbye to her last night and all morning
he’d hardly been able to concentrate without thoughts of seeing her later that afternoon.

So what? He’d admit it now. He was crazy about her. It wasn’t his
fault no one had ever made him feel this way before. How was he supposed to
know it’d be like this? He’d sooner swallow his pride now than be an idiot and
pretend he didn’t
need
to see her
again already. If he didn’t, he’d have to wait until tomorrow. Hell no. That
wasn’t happening. Last night confirmed it. He
was
whipped.

Only thing was he and Abel had screwed up that morning, speaking
openly about Charlee while they thought their mom was in the shower. Abel had
even asked if Hector was in love, and when Hector told him he hadn’t known her
long enough, his mother waltzed in the room, startling the hell out of both of
them then made an announcement.

“Doña Benitez and I are barbequing tonight for Sunday dinner, and
as you both know, I leave tomorrow to see your
abuelita
in Mexico.” She turned
to Hector with an overly sullen expression. “I know you boys don’t watch the
Spanish news much, but it’s a very dangerous time to travel into Mexico right
now.”

“So why don’t you wait?” Abel asked.

Sighing deeply, their mother shook her head and continued. “I
just don’t see a better time, and your
abuelita
is not getting any younger. I
have
to go.” She turned back to Hector. “But
God forbid
something were to happen to me and I don’t make it
back—”

“Mom!”
Hector hated when she was so
melodramatic, and he already knew where she was going with this anyway.

“I’m just saying,
Mijo
,
if I don’t,
this may be my last chance to meet at least one of my boy’s
girlfriends
.” She lifted the famous
Ayala eyebrow at Abel before turning back to Hector. “It’s just a casual
barbeque in the backyard. Would it kill you to invite her so I could meet her
just once?”

Grumbling, Hector reached for the quick-talking short little
woman that had the power to make him agree to almost anything and pulled her to
him. “Are you gonna behave?”

She punched him playfully in the gut before putting her arm
around his waist with a smile. “Of course
loco
!
What do you think I’m gonna do?”

Hector took a deep breath and braced himself to tell Charlee. He
agreed to invite her to the barbeque, but if Charlee were at all uncomfortable
with it, he wasn’t pushing it. This was
way
too soon.

Even
Charlee’s
reaction to his
invitation had him smiling from ear to ear again like he had all day yesterday.
She was quiet for a moment when he first dropped it on her, and for a second
there, he thought she might’ve hung up, but then she spoke. “I can make a chicken
pasta salad.”

He’d been so damn nervous about her thinking he and his mom were
nuts. He wished now he’d asked her in person because he would’ve covered her in
grateful kisses.

Charlee had insisted she could drive herself to his house so he
wouldn’t have to go back and forth to pick her up then drive her all the way
back, but Hector wouldn’t hear of it. Besides, he wanted to use the drive back
to his house to warn her a little about his mom. He’d already cautioned his mom
about Charlee not being Latina, and while she hadn’t been thrilled, she
promised to keep her thoughts about preferring Latina girls for her boys to
herself.

“So my mom’s a little on the . . .” He’d searched for the perfect
word to describe his mom all the way to pick up Charlee, and now here she was
in his truck on the way back, and he still couldn’t come up with the right
term. “I don’t want to say manipulative because she doesn’t even
have
to be.” He wiggled his fingers in
Charlee’s
hand. Maybe it’d be better if he just explained
it. “You see it’s always been just the three of us. My dad died when I was real
young, and so basically my mom’s had to be both mother and father to us. And
she did a damn good job too. The thing is the woman knows whenever it comes to
me and Abel, what she wants she gets. Here’s where it gets tricky.”

Charlee lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him.
“How?”

“Neither of us has ever brought a girl home. And she has these old-fashioned
ideas about the kind of girls we should date.” They came to a stop, and he turned
to her, a little hesitant about going on, but he did. “She’s always said we
should stick with our own kind—our own culture.”
Charlee’s
eyes got noticeably wider. Even that made him smile, and he
had
to kiss her. “Don’t worry. I’ve
never bought into it, and neither has my brother, but since neither of us ever
intended on bringing someone home—not anytime soon anyway, we didn’t bother
arguing.” He kissed her again before stepping on the accelerator again. “She’s
been duly warned, I promise you.”

“Was she mad?” Charlee asked.

“No,” Hector laughed softly, squeezing her hand. “She’s not the
Hispanic Archie Bunker.” Now Charlee laughed. “She just has all kinds of old-fashioned
beliefs, rituals, and sayings. Like you don’t ever even playfully pretend you’re
trying to stab someone like Abel and I did on occasion when we were kids
because
se
te
mete el Diablo
.”

“Huh?” Charlee stared at him.

Hector rolled his eyes with a smirk. “The devil will get in your
hand and make you do it for real.”
Charlee’s
brows
pinched. “Yeah, exactly,” Hector said, nodding. “And she really believes it
too. She had me and Abel believing since we were kids that if you hit your mom,
se
te
cae
la
mano
—your hand
will fall off. I’m still not certain that’s not entirely true. But she said it
so convincingly neither one of us ever dared raise our hand to her.”

Charlee nudged him. “She doesn’t sound so bad. All parents have
quirks.”

“No, mine takes the cake,” Hector insisted.

“Well, my mom believes you don’t catch a cold from germs, rather
from doing things like walking barefoot on the cold floor,” Charlee countered,
“or going out when it’s cold just after you’ve showered.”

“Yeah, well, when she does get a cold or the flu or so much as
headache, does Seven-Up cure it all?”

Charlee laughed out loud now. “No, but lemon juice works too.”

“Oh no,” Hector said. “Lemon juice is for the cancer or for an
open wound. Ask my mom. Can you believe she’d squeeze lemon fucking juice into
our cuts and scrapes?
As if we weren’t in enough pain
already.”

He loved watching Charlee laugh, so he shared a little more. “And
get this one. Bathing suits for kids are a gimmick. It’s just the retailers’
way of trying to make money. I can’t even begin to tell you how many pictures
she has of Abel and me in the summer, running through the sprinklers in our
tighty
whiteys.”

Charlee held her hand to her chest, still laughing. “But did she
ever dig a hole in the backyard and fill it with water for you to swim in?”

“Yuck,” Hector said as he pulled into his driveway. “Okay, you
got me there, but we do have a few pictures of Abel and me—once again in our
tighty
whiteys—frolicking in a storage tote or ice chest or
anything we could turn into a pool because, according to my mom, they were just
as good as those cheap plastic pools from Kmart.”

Glad that Charlee didn’t seem at all nervous about meeting his
mom, he walked around his truck and met her by the front walkway to the tiny
house he’d lived in his entire life and could hardly believe now he was moving
away from.

Charlee looked positively adorable. Her long burgundy sweater,
leggings, and boots weren’t nearly as provocative as yesterday’s jeans and tiny
hoodie, but they were still enough to make Hector’s heart race. “Ready?”

She nodded as he took the pasta dish from her then took her hand
in his free one. “Smells good,” he said, bringing the dish closer to his face.

“It’s probably the only thing I know how make aside from the
typical sandwich or generic stuff you stick in the oven or microwave.”

“What is it?”

“Ranch chicken pasta,” she said, crinkling her nose. “I got the
recipe from one of those ladies passing out samples at the supermarket. It was
so good, and when she explained how simple it was to make, I bought the stuff,
went home, and voila!”

Realizing his friends and family were going to be around today
and watching closely, Hector had to remind himself he couldn’t be kissing her
every time the mood struck him or he’d never take his lips off her. But damn it
if he didn’t feel like kissing her again, so he moved the dish aside and leaned
into her against the porch wall just before they walked in. This kiss had to tide
him over for a while, so he made it count, savoring her mouth deeply and
sucking on her tongue and bottom lip. Suddenly imagining what it would be like
to be
in
her, he got a little carried
away, letting a moan escape.

The front door opened abruptly.
“Down boy.”
Hector pulled away from Charlee and turned to a slightly amused-looking Abel at
the door. “Mom’s watching.”

Hector glanced back at the window near the far side of the porch
and winced, remembering they were visible from the kitchen. Turning back to
Charlee, he saw she was already bright red. “Don’t worry about it. If she saw
the whole thing, she knows that was all me.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Abel took the dish from Hector and smiled at
Charlee.
“Hi, Charlee.”

Charlee barely nodded, smiling through her redness. “Hi,” she
said softly.

Stepping back to let them in, Abel chuckled. “She’s been waiting,
dude, asking me all kinds of questions like just how serious you are, and then
you put on that little show—nice.”

Hector went straight to the kitchen to get it over with. The
second they walked in, his mom gave him a scolding look, but it immediately
disappeared when she turned to Charlee and brought her hands to her mouth,
smiling. “
Ay,
que
linda
!
” She held her arms open to her, and Charlee
glanced at him cautiously before stepping forward and accepting his mother’s
overly zealous hug.