Two Words I'd Never Say Again

by Remi Carrington

  My leggings would have to do. But I yanked his t-shirt over my head and pulled the clip out of my hair.

  Cami chatted away, but I couldn’t make out her words until I opened my bedroom door.

  “You can wait inside. I don’t bite. Not hard at least.”

  His expression must’ve been funny because she giggled.

  “No thanks. I’m good out here.” His voice warned me that stoic Hank had shown up.

  Was he here because he couldn’t live without me and wanted me back? Padding down the hall, I tried not to get my hopes up. But why else would he have come?

  One glimpse at his expression dashed any glimmer of hope.

  Cami backed away. “I’ll just . . . let y’all talk.”

  I motioned him inside, but he shook his head. I stepped out onto the porch.

  He eyed the shirt. “Did you go put that on just now so I’d see you wearing my shirt?”

  “Yes. I changed clothes and let my hair down. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for a bubble bath and makeup.”

  “Very funny. Where’s your mom?” He leaned around me, peeking through the open door. If he wanted to know who was inside, why did he insist on staying on the porch?

  “She’s not here. In fact, she’s on a date.” I crossed my arms to keep from wrapping them around his neck. Being so close and not touching him was a form of torture—one I’d made him endure.

  “Quit teasing me. The house smells incredible. I know she’s here.”

  I’d never been happier that one, I’d cooked, and two, I’d left the door open. “I’m the one who cooked. Mama went out.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re serious? You and Aunt Joji aren’t pranking me?”

  “No prank.” I inched closer.

  “But it’s Saturday.” He scratched his head. “What was Aunt Joji doing at your mom’s anyway?”

  “I introduced them. They became fast friends, and Aunt Joji is staying there now. I’m thinking about calling them the dangerous duo. They even went dancing the other night. That’s where Mama met her date.”

  He clenched his jaw and inhaled. “And you are just letting her go out with some guy she met in a dance hall?”

  Not touching him wasn’t working. I didn’t have that kind of willpower. I pressed a hand to his chest. “Hank, she went out with a retired police detective. Aunt Joji met him. And Mama is a smart woman. Besides that, I’m not her mother. She’s mine.”

  “What if she doesn’t make it home?”

  “Aunt Joji will call me. Heck, she probably tagged him with a tracking device.”

  Hank cracked a small smile. “She would, huh?”

  “Mama will be fine. I haven’t seen her so excited in a long time.”

  He glanced down at my hand. “All right, then. Sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s sweet that you were concerned. Did you go over there tonight?”

  “Bought some seeds and wanted to show her. I won’t plant them until early spring, though.”

  This man had no idea how hard it was not to tackle him.

  I loved that he did those things for Mama. “Would you like to stay and eat? I made carne guisada.”

  He shook his head, then pointed inside. “Who’s visiting you?”

  “Cami? She lives here. I rented her a room.” I kept my hand in place, hoping he wouldn’t back away.

  “Why would you do that?”

  I tamped down the urge to tell him to mind his own business. Admitting things that made me feel like a failure were difficult. Having him upset with me only highlighted my failures. “Things were tight. I didn’t want to lose the house.”

  His brow furrowed and he reached out but stopped short of touching me. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets, and his expression became unreadable. “I’m not sure what I think of her.”

  “I know what she thinks of you.”

  He rolled his eyes and stepped backward. “The whole neighborhood does.”

  “Want to take food with you?” I hated the distance he put between us.

  “Sure.”

  “Hank, I—”

  “Let’s not talk about any of that. I’m not ready.” He stared at the ground. “It still stings. But I’ll call you at some point.”

  “And I’ll answer.” I’d felt that way for so long, I understood completely. “Let me get you food.”

  “And keep Cami—or whatever her name is—inside. Please. The last thing I need is both of you coming on to me.”

  I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist.

  He tensed. “Nacha.”

  “If you think what I was doing before was coming on to you, you haven’t seen anything. Would you like me to show you?”

  “Please don’t. Your stunt at the station caused me enough trouble.”

  I grinned and walked to the door. “Maybe I’ll stop by again. Give me a sec to get the food.”

  Before I made it all the way to the kitchen, Cami threw her hands wide. “I’ve been waiting. Tell me what’s going on. Y’all were standing where I couldn’t see crap looking out the window.”

  “I’m getting him some food to take with him. He was worried about my mother.”

  “That was his excuse for stopping by.”

  “I wish. He still doesn’t want me to touch him. Not a good sign.”

  She served herself food. “Give him time. It took you over a year.” Cami had a real knack for pointing out what didn’t need spotlighting.

  “Thanks so much for the reminder. I’d completely forgotten about that.” I hoped my sarcasm was obvious. I loaded two containers with food, then hurried back outside. “Here. And you’re welcome to stop by anytime. If Cami makes you uncomfortable, I can go to your house.”

  “We’ll see.” He walked back to the truck.

  I didn’t have to ask how someone who was so in love and so passionate could be so cold. I’d spent a year letting anger and the sting of perceived rejection hold me captive.

  Hank needed time. I could give him that, but I wouldn’t give up on him.

  At least he hadn’t brought up the topic of divorce papers. And he took food with him. I’d mark those two things as wins.

  But the only win that really mattered was winning back his heart.

  Chapter 14

  Sunday afternoon I rolled out tortillas, struggling to get them to resemble a circle.

  The whole time, Mama gave me the replay of her date. “He was so polite. And he can dance. It’s like floating on a cloud.”

  “Are you going to go out with him again? Where’s the griddle?” I opened a couple of cabinets.

  “The comal is next to the sink.”

  I turned on the burner and let the comal heat.

  “He invited me to dinner on Friday.” She picked up the rolling pin and rolled out a perfect circle.

  “And?”

  “I said yes.”

  I dropped a tortilla onto the hot comal. “I love seeing you so happy.”

  “I never planned to date again. Never. I haven’t even mentioned it to your brothers.”

  “They won’t mind. They want you to be happy.”

  “After a few dates, I’d like for you to meet Mateo. Hank too. Joji mentioned that he stopped by.”

  “He came to my house, looking for you. He thought you were there because it smelled like your cooking.”

  Mama smiled. “Did you give him any?”

  “I did.”

  “What did he think?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything. Waiting is hard. I know he needs time, but I want him back.”

  She flipped the tortilla on the comal. “Patience. Keep showing him you love him.”

  “I plan to.”

  “Hellooooo!” Aunt Joji filled a room before she even made it through the doorway.

  “Hi! Mama said you had lunch with Haley.”

  “I did. And now I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” She picked up a hot tortilla and dropped into a
chair. “Oh! Hank is gonna love these.”

  “Good news, I guess.”

  “Hank joined us for lunch. I think being mad at me and you is just too much for the poor guy.” Her laughter echoed through the house. She sighed. “And the bad news. Christmas won’t work. Hank is working that day.”

  “Oh.” I’d pinned so much hope on spending Christmas with him.

  “But everyone agreed that a family getaway is a good idea. Let me know what dates you’re free. I’ll book the resort again.” Aunt Joji turned to Mama. “You can come too.”

  “We’ll see what’s going on then.” Mama continued rolling perfectly round tortillas.

  “What that means is that she’s not sure if she’ll be busy dating Mateo.” Aunt Joji picked up another tortilla. “I could eat my weight in these.”

  That would probably be achieved by eating three.

  “Christmas is only two weeks away.” I needed to figure out what to get Hank. It had to be memorable and make an impression. But I didn’t have a big budget.

  Mama filled glasses with sweet tea. “The rest of this week, we’ll make tamales.”

  “I need to give Hank more than tamales.”

  Aunt Joji pushed a card across the table. “I’m giving you your gift early. In case you need it.”

  “You don’t have to—” I stopped talking when she put up one finger.

  She lifted her chin and stared me down. “Are you rejecting my gift?”

  “No.” I hugged her. “Thank you.”

  I hadn’t mentioned my financial situation to Aunt Joji. What had Hank and Haley told her?

  Aunt Joji drank down half her glass of tea. “I think we have extra help.”

  Mama laughed. “We need all the help we can get.”

  “What do you mean?” I burned my fingertips, trying to flip a tortilla without using tongs.

  “Haley is clearly in your corner. She plays it cool, but that Zach. I like that man. He turns to Hank at dinner and asks if—” She glanced at my phone. “Hank just messaged you.”

  I grabbed my cell, chiding myself that I forgot to turn on the ringer. I closed my eyes a second before reading the text Hank sent: The food was good. It had all the warmth of a forced thank you at Christmas, like when my least favorite aunt gave me a training bra as a gift. Mama gave me that look, and I said my proper thank you. But who gives that as Christmas gift? To an eight-year-old?

  I replied: I’ll make it for you any time.

  That stupid thumb appeared again. I was beginning to hate that little emoji.

  “You were saying something about Zach.” I pulled the tortilla off the comal and dropped another on.

  Mama shook her head. “Not before you tell us what he said.”

  “He said the food was good. That’s it.” I slathered a pat of butter onto a hot tortilla, then took a bite. “That’s all he said.”

  “Back to Zach.” Aunt Joji added butter to her tortilla. “Oh! This is even better. Anyway, Zach leans over and asks Hank what he thought of the carne guisada. Right at the table where we can all hear.”

  I thought back to Zach’s comment the night I fell into the pool. I should’ve given Hank more of a chance then. But it was good to know Zach wasn’t playing favorites.

  “Let me guess, he said it was good. Did I get that right?”

  “Nacha, he raved about it. Said that—Josefina, I’m just repeating what he said—it was even better than your mom’s.”

  That couldn’t be true, but why would he say that? He had to know it would get back to me.

  “I know it isn’t, but I’m glad he liked it.”

  “Keep at it. It’s working.” Mama clapped. “Tomorrow we start on the tamales. I’ll cook the pork tonight.”

  That night, alone in my room, I opened Aunt Joji’s card. A gift card fell onto the bed, but before picking it up, I read the card. She’d scrawled a couple of sweet lines about wanting me happy and back together with Hank.

  I picked up the gift card and gasped. Five hundred dollars! With that kind of money, I could get Hank something really nice. Now I just had to figure out what to get. I needed something that Hank would love and something that said, ‘I want you.’ Maybe getting him two gifts was a better way to handle that.

  Cami sang out my name. “Nacha, I’m home.”

  “Hey. Good day?”

  She shrugged. “Haley said the pics were good. That author lady seemed happy. I just wish she wanted covers with couples on them. Maybe I could meet some nice, hot model dude.”

  “Maybe we’ll have another author book our services. Then you might need to pose for pics with a guy.” I thought about Hank’s neighbor and cringed at the idea of her asking Hank to pose for a cover shoot. Thoughts like that would land me in jail. And I really didn’t need to add that to my list.

  Cami crossed her fingers. “Here’s hoping. But earlier today, I did find some good stuff. My Christmas shopping is almost done.”

  “I still have to shop for Hank. What do you get a guy that doesn’t want to be around you?”

  “Something awesome and something sexy. Like something only you’d see—you know—if you get back together. I mean when.” She danced her eyebrows. “What does he do besides workout? That part is obvious.”

  “He’s my husband, Cami.”

  “I’m not trying to steal him. I’m just saying.”

  I pictured Hank flopped on the sofa with a game controller in his hand. We’d spent so many weekends together on the couch when we were dating and first married. He played games while I read or edited photos. Did he still do that?

  “Thanks. You’ve given me an idea.” Since I’d be making tamales tomorrow night, I’d have to sneak out of the office to get the something awesome. “See you in the morning.”

  Tucked in bed, I scanned shopping sites, looking for the perfect gift. Would he even open what I gave him? I’d have to think of a plan for that too.

  When my eyes burned from exhaustion, I snapped the laptop closed and slid under the covers. It was after midnight, much later than I used to stay up. Sleep and I weren’t on the best terms. Sleep came and went on its own schedule, leaving me awake many nights.

  When “Come a Little Closer” rang out, I answered before the end of the first ring. “Hello.”

  “This is how this will work. I’ll ask a question. You answer. There is a lot we need to talk about, and I’m not promising that we can patch things up.”

  “Thank you for calling, but wouldn’t having this conversation in person be better?”

  “No. It’s this or texting.”

  “The phone is fine.”

  Hank shuffled. “I’m trying not to make the same mistakes we made before by not communicating. But seeing you physically hurts right now.”

  I wouldn’t be stopping by the fire station for a while. Causing him pain was the last thing I wanted to do. “Ask me anything.”

  “After I told you over and over that being apart was short term, you reacted like . . . like I’d run away with someone else. Why? I want to understand.” Clearly, he didn’t believe in throwing softballs.

  “Hank, I—” I swallowed, hoping the emotion choking me wouldn’t erupt into sobs.

  “I don’t know isn’t an acceptable answer. Honesty is the only hope of finding a way through this . . . if one even exists.”

  “I’ve never talked much about my father.”

  “Jeffrey? You’ve talked about him.” Hank didn’t make this easy, but at least he was talking to me.

  “Not Jeffrey, my biological father. His name was Eric. He left when I was three.” I pulled the covers up to my chin, feeling very exposed. “I don’t really remember him. But I do remember Mama crying at night in her room. When I was old enough to notice that most kids had a mom and a dad, I thought more about how I didn’t have one—a dad. And I thought it was my fault. Maybe I was a horrible kid and he couldn’t take it. Maybe he wanted a boy. Whatever the reason, he left. And it made my mama cry.”

  The only
sound coming over the line was Hank breathing in and out. He hadn’t hung up on me yet.

  This part was harder to say than the rest. “When you packed your bags and left, I couldn’t hear your words. I felt like that little girl whose daddy walked away and never looked back. And I reacted with all the logic of a three-year-old. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Thanks for answering.” He ended the call, probably battling emotion and not wanting me to hear it in his voice.

  I knew all about the strategy for acting like life was wrapped up in a pretty package. And I also knew it didn’t work.

  Chapter 15

  The next few evenings were spent at Mama’s house. I spread masa on corn husks, and she added seasoned pork to the center, then folded the tamales into shape. Between that and work, my hands stayed busy. My mind was always on Hank.

  He hadn’t called again, but when I slept, the phone was always by my pillow.

  “I’m out of masa.” I dropped my spreader on the table and stretched my back.

  Mama counted the tamales stacked on the sheet pan. “Five dozen. This is a good place to stop. The batch in the pot is almost done. I may cook one more batch before I go to bed.”

  “Let me help you clean up.” I checked my phone before tucking it in my pocket.

  “Have you talked to him?” Mama hadn’t asked about Hank in days.

  “Not for a few days. I’m concerned it’s too late to make things work, but until he tells me that, I’m going to keep trying.”

  She rinsed bowls and tucked them into the dishwasher. “Have you explained why you were so hurt? He’d want to know.”

  “A little.” Telling Mama about his late-night call was more than I wanted to get into tonight. The conversation felt private and personal. I hadn’t told anyone that he’d called. “When are you and Mateo going out again?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Hank is coming over tomorrow night.” She grinned. “So if you want to forget your coat or something . . .”

  “I may drop by, but I won’t stay.”

  Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I need to run to the store. Will you come by and be here in case I don’t make it home in time?”