Read Of Hustle and Heart Online

Authors: Briseis S. Lily

Of Hustle and Heart (7 page)

BOOK: Of Hustle and Heart
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

CHAPTER 12

ZACARIAS

 

M
y mother grins as Whitney forces her way inside.

“Please, Whitney,” I say. “I want to be alone with you.”

But she glances, flipping her hair from her face, and steps around me.

“Who’s rotten?” she asks, walking into the living room and settling at the far end of the sofa as if she’d been invited.

“So, Whitney, you’re still dating my son?” my mother asks, as if she’s surprised Whitney has lasted this long. Her face, however, is devoid of emotion.

John holds his position on the sofa, watching our mother from the corner of his eye. His expression, too, is stony and detached. She is not John’s biological mother, but as the years have passed, our mother has given all three of her sons distinctive parts of herself. Blood means nothing here; loyalty is everything.

Whitney doesn’t even blink. “Yes, Madeline, I’m still here.” She smiles as she crosses her legs and settles herself comfortably against the couch cushions.

I take my place between her and John.

“Zack?” she says, her voice higher than usual.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Could you bring me a drink?” She smiles sweetly at me as she leans close and wraps her arms around my neck.

I look at her, wondering why she would let me sit down and then send me for her drink. Her smile fades a bit as we stare at each other a moment too long. I hear John clear his throat, and Whitney looks around me.

“I missed you, John,” she said. “You and Madeline.”

“Really,” John grumbles. “Why is that, Whitney?”

“You’re Zacarias’s family. I should be around more.”

Whitney’s arms are still coiled around my neck. With every word she speaks, her grip tightens.

“You okay?” I whisper to her.

“I’m fine,” she replies without looking at me. “I’m not intimidated by your brother.”

“John’s not trying to intimidate you,” I reply.

“Zacarias!” My mother rolls her eyes. “Go ahead and get Whitney’s tea. She did ask, didn’t she?”

“I’m not thirsty anymore,” Whitney says.

“Get her some tea,” my mother says as she takes a sip of her own.

I free myself from Whitney’s arms and do as I’m told.

“So, Zack was ignoring your calls,” Mother says. She looks at Whitney curiously and waits for a response. My girlfriend’s eyes narrow, her breath caught in her chest as she glances toward the kitchen at me.

“Was he?” she says. “I thought he was distracted by something…or just busy.”

My mother nods.

“So you just thought you should barge in.” She is not going to let this go. “Actually, he
was
busy. We were talking.”

I know this is about to get ugly, so I add a long pour of honey and some lemon to Whitney’s tea and stir like a madman.

“I don’t get to see my boys too much since they moved out,” she says.

It’s happening.

John, who’s restless with the whole situation, lifts his head and looks warily at our mother. He recognizes the impatience in her voice and raises an eyebrow. He apparently doesn’t think enough of me or Whitney to hide the satisfaction on his face. My mother would not be playing nice for much longer.

John once had a girlfriend of his own, but he hasn’t dated for more than a year. He likes the same type of girls our mother likes—the kind who do what they’re told and don’t want much more from their partners than a little attention and affection from time to time. John only has room in his life for one demanding woman, and our mother, Madeline Ciccone Moreno, already holds that spot. And she will never retire it.

From time to time, John could appreciate our mother’s spastic impatience and overbearing zeal, especially when he believed the person on the receiving end deserved it. John does not like Whitney, so he’s thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You know my car, don’t you?” my mother asks.

“Yes, I saw your car outside when I came up,” Whitney says.

“And you still chose to interrupt us.” My mother shakes her head at what she considers insolence.

Whitney bites her lip and sighs, her own patience running thin. I arrive with her cup and hand it to her, but she refuses to take it, staring up at me as if I had betrayed her.

“I agree with what my mother said.” John can’t help but keep the fire burning. “You saw her car downstairs. I mean, it’s obvious she was here visiting us.”

I set Whitney’s cup on the coffee table in front of us. “Wait a minute!” I say. “She came here to see me. She didn’t know you’d be here visiting.”

“But she did know, Zack,” John says, mocking the conversation. “She just said she knew mom…”

“Shut up, John,” Whitney says. “In fact, I’m not going to take any more of this from either of you.”

She pulls on my arm, biding for my attention, but I’m too busy glaring at my mother and John. The battle lines have been drawn, and everyone is waiting to see whose side I’m on.

“But we’re family, and this is how we are with each other,” John says, only half kidding.

“If you want to be part of the family, this is what it will be like.” John gets up and leans over to gather the empty teacups from the table. “All of a sudden you’re sensitive?” he says to my girlfriend. “Bullshit! You’re as worthless as they come.”

Whitney’s gasp is barely audible, but I know she’s stunned. She’s not accustomed to being on the receiving end of a fight. She only endures my family—or at least she did up to this moment—because our relationship is very close to shit city. She snaps at John before I can open my mouth.

She laughs at first, and it’s so unsettling. She removes her hands from my arm and scoots over, creating space between us.

“Worthless,” she repeats, her tone impatient and bitter. “You need to learn how to talk to women.”

“I don’t have a problem with women,” John says. “I treat all women the same—with respect, even when they don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t deserve it? Who are you to make that decision?” Whitney says, her voice tinged with venom. “Please, you’re a heathen. But you know, it’s not your fault. No one ever taught you to watch your damn mouth.”

My mother sits in silence, satisfied with just being a spectator…at least for now. John has worked himself into such a frenzy that he’s standing over Whitney like a snake ready to strike. Finally, I’ve had enough.

“Whitney, shut up!” I say, desperate to end the turmoil that has invaded my house. I turn to John and give him a hard push; he stumbles back from the impact. I am taller than John, and my arms are longer, but I have no intention of fighting him over this. Once he regains his footing, he steps closer to Whitney, who is now on her feet and attempting to push her way past me.

“Look what a psycho she is!” John yells. “She’s trying to push by you as if she could fight me!”

Then my mother is standing in front of John. I didn’t even see her get up.

“Do you actually think you could fight a man?” she asks Whitney.

“No, Mom,” I say. “She doesn’t want—”

“I’m talking to her!” My mother snaps her head around and glowers at me. “Don’t speak for her, Zacarias!” She turns back to Whitney. “Answer me! Do you think you can fight a man?”

“I’m not going to let anyone disrespect me,” Whitney says.

“And what about me?” my mother asks. “If I disrespect you, what will you do? I don’t like you either, Whitney. I don’t want you around my sons. You don’t have the right to barge into their house, interrupting my time with them.”

My mother’s voice grows louder and more agitated with every word. She shifts her weight until she stands directly in front of Whitney. “When we ignore our calls, you stupid little girl, that usually means we don’t want to see you.”

“Zack wants to see me, and he doesn’t appreciate you or John getting in our business,” Whitney says. She waves her hand through the air, and when she does, my mother snatches her by the hand and then shoves her. Whitney stumbles backward, but I catch her before she falls. My mother walks toward Whitney and reaches around me to grab her.

“Ma! Stop!” I put my hand out to hold her back. “What the hell?”

John and I are shocked at our mother’s aggression. He steps up and holds her around the waist, pulling her away slowly.

I tell Whitney to go to my bedroom. She hesitates but not for long. Then I ask my mother to leave. I’m done with this.

“I’m sorry, Zack, but I don’t trust her. I thought she was swinging at me,” my mother says.

“She wouldn’t do that, c’mon! You did that for John.”

I am disgusted. Fuck. When I woke up this morning, I prayed to God that today would be better. I didn’t want to see my mother or my girlfriend until I was ready to speak to them. They both intruded, and now I’m forced to choose between them.

“Don’t be mad at me, man,” John says.

“You know what? Shut the hell up, John. You started this. Mother, I need you to get out,” I say, pointing toward the door. “Now! And don’t be here when I come out.”

I sit on the edge of my bed, cradling Whitney on my lap. She isn’t as upset as I thought she’d be. We don’t really talk about the fight much at all after we escape to my bedroom. Whitney apologizes for barging in on my family, and I tell her it’s okay. When she apologizes for accusing me of cheating on her with high-school girls, I remain silent. Part of me wishes she hadn’t brought it up.

“Don’t be jealous of teenagers,” I say. “I don’t want them.”

She sits on my lap, her hands resting on top of my head. When she leans over to kiss me, I feel the warmth in my chest.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she says. “I’m tired of talking to people and about people.” She swings one leg over my lap and straddles me.

I agree.

We kiss, forgetting about our families, our jobs, maybe even each other. Alone in the fading daylight, we claw at each other as if we’re touching for the first time. She’d made me wait for weeks, because she does that when she’s not happy with me, so it’s surprising she’s so willing after all that’s transpired today. Through all the waiting and game playing, I can only assume she’s frustrated herself as well. Whitney maneuvers around on top of me, fully clothed, until she knows we’re both ready. I roll over her unto the bed. We kiss again, and I pick her up and lay her down on my disheveled bed.

Afterward, my mouth dry and my heart rate slowly returning to normal, I lie next to my girlfriend and experience the calm I’ve been searching for all week. Whitney appears to be sleeping, but the smile on her face tells me otherwise.

“I’m so thirsty,” I croak, sounding just pathetic enough to get what I want.

Whitney’s pointed little nose brushes mine. “I’ll get it,” she whispers. Her breath teases my face, and I am caught in the warmth of it.

“Get what?” I murmur against her chin.

“Drinks,” she says. “Be right back.”

She rolls away from me slowly and slips on the T-shirt I’d been wearing. I lie in bed, watching the bedroom door, waiting for her return. But then I notice Whitney’s shadow in the hallway outside my bedroom door; she’s still lingering near the living room.

I sit up and call out to her. She doesn’t answer. I slip on my shorts and hurry into the living room. Whitney is standing at the edge of the hallway, watching my mother as she stands on the balcony, staring at the neighboring subdivision. She turns abruptly and smiles at me. She walks to the patio door, slides it open, and steps inside.

“Yes, I’m still here,” my mother says. “I don’t want to leave the situation as is, and I don’t want to have to discuss it on the phone later.” I stand next to Whitney and then turn back toward my room.

“Where are you going?” Whitney asks and jerks back on my arm.

“I’m going to put on a shirt,” I say, taking her hand from my arm.

“Get rid of her, Zack,” she says as I take her hand in mine, squeezing it reassuringly. “She doesn’t want to talk. She wants to force you to choose.”

“No, she doesn’t. She knows I would never choose.”

“Are the two of you done?” my mother asks.

“No,” Whitney growls at my mother. Her voice sounds like soft gravel and not yet ready to forgive, but my mother ignores my girlfriend’s resistance.

“You were headed to the kitchen?” she asks, but Whitney doesn’t answer.

“I’m thirsty,” I say, nudging her toward the kitchen. “Please.”

“And I’ll have some more tea,” my mother says. “I think there’s a little left, but you’ll have to warm it up.”

My mother picks up her cup from beside her chair, extending it toward Whitney, but she walks past her. I take the cup from my mother and set it on the bar, watching Whitney as she opens the refrigerator door. She stands in the open fridge, her back facing me, staring into space and gripping my bottled water in one hand. She looks odd, and I’m worried about her. I call out to her. When she doesn’t answer, I walk around the bar into the kitchen. I take a few steps before she closes the door and turns to face me. She hands me the bottle of water and stares into my eyes, hers pooling.

“I really, really love you, Zacarias.”

I’m worried about us, but it pleases me to hear her say she loves me. I’m never sure if she could ever
really
love me. She reaches around me and takes my mom’s cup from the bar.

BOOK: Of Hustle and Heart
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

What She Doesn't Know by Tina Wainscott
Vampire Vendetta by Hayblum, Sadae
At the Firefly Gate by Linda Newbery
Hers to Choose by Patricia A. Knight
The Palace Thief by Ethan Canin
Spain: A Unique History by Stanley G. Payne
Thicker Than Blood by Matthew Newhall
Fire on the Mountain by Terry Bisson
Hopeful by Shelley Shepard Gray