“You better watch your back when we get up there,” Ezra warned. “I might tackle you down that mountain.”
“I’m game,” Andrew spoke to Ezra’s back when he turned to leave.
At times they both got carried away with competing against each other, until they ended up tackling each other regardless of their location.
Andrew picked up the empty bottle and carried it to the sink, then rinsed it.
“Can I call you Uncle, too? Since your brother is my uncle?”
Andrew turned to Daisy, who stood clutching a math workbook to her chest.
“Renee is my aunt, too, because she’s mom’s best friend. She and Aunt Leila.”
“Just call me Andrew...” He opened the stainless-steel dishwasher and put the bottle on the half empty rack, closing it with a click. “Or you can call me Drew, if that’s easier.”
“Aunt Leila says that it’s disrespectful to call adults by their first names. I need to address them with Sir or Mr. or Uncle.”
“Okay, then.” What else was he supposed to do? Argue with a seven year old?
“When you get married,” Daisy continued, “I can call your wife Aunt, too.”
How could he tell a seven year old that in order to consider marriage, you have to first have a girlfriend? She was too young to be talking about stuff like this. Maybe she was bored or something.
“Would you like to watch a Saturday morning cartoon?” Andrew walked back to the living room and reached for the remote from the basket on the coffee table. When he was Daisy’s age, they used to watch Saturday morning cartoons.
“Aunt Leila says too much TV isn’t good for me. My grandma lets me watch TV, though.”
He had no idea what conversation to make with a seven year old. He’d never had to chat with kids for longer than three minutes, except for when he was educating them about fire safety or giving them a tour around the fire station.
Andrew stared at the book in her hand, remembering what Ezra had told her. “Don’t you need to get your homework done?”
She glanced down at her book, and smiled. “Oh, I better do that. I really want to make soap.”
“You don’t want to miss out, for sure.”
She scurried back to her table just as Ezra returned with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He bent down to give Daisy a hug and said goodbye, telling her that Leila should be out of the bedroom soon.
“Well, Daisy, nice to see you.” Andrew waved to Daisy as he followed Ezra out the door.
“Do I need to bring an extra snowboard for backup?” Ezra closed the door.
“Nope, I brought two extras for back up if we need them.” He’d retrieved some of the extra snowboards from the storage unit, where he kept the rest of his things.
Ezra slid into the passenger seat of Andrew’s F250 truck, while Andrew sat in the driver seat and fired the engine.
“I thought Great Danes didn’t shed hair.” Ezra peered around the dashboard, then at the seats.
Andrew vacuumed often, but there was still evidence of Rocky’s unmistakable odor and fur throughout the car. “They don’t shed as much, but Rocky likes to pause on the passenger seat sometimes. Hard to get rid of all the hair.” He only put him in the back when he was on the highway.
Fastening his seat belt with a click, Andrew changed the subject. “That’s great that you guys still watch Daisy, even with a newborn on your hands.”
“Daisy’s pretty easy, as you can see,” Ezra said. “We didn’t want to change anything just because of Peanut. Bianca can use all the extra help right now.”
Andrew idled at the stop sign in the neighborhood while a woman crossed the road, jogging with her pooch.
“Speaking of help, since you’re feeling sorry for me for being a new dad...” Ezra cleared his throat. “Remember how you were looking for ways to plug in to the community?”
“Yes, and I’ve sort of connected with the guys at the station, been able to attend a couple of their gatherings at their homes, even.”
“That’s your work connection. I mean connecting with the people who live in your firehouse neighborhood.”
Andrew had no idea where this was going. “I’m listening.”
“I thought about how you used to play soccer, but you never continued with it because you had baseball at your fingertips.”
Andrew smiled as he thought back to when they were kids. He and Ezra had always played baseball, but Andrew had ventured out and played soccer for three seasons. He’d loved it, except it became harder to keep up with both baseball and soccer the older he got.
“What does that have to do with the community?” He turned to his brother as he waited for the green light so he could merge onto I-25 north.
“Daisy signed up for soccer, and I’m supposed to coach her team this spring. First practice starts in two weeks, but I’ve never played soccer before.”
“Why did you commit to coach in the first place?”
“At first I thought she was doing T-ball, but then she decided to play soccer instead.”
Now on the I-25, in a steady flow of traffic, Andrew leaned back. “Soccer is really easy. I can coach you, if you want.”
“I don’t exactly plan to play soccer, but I think it would be much easier for you to coach the six and seven year old team. The field is in Daisy’s community, the same neighborhood as your firehouse, and what better way to connect with the people while giving back to the community?”
“I want to get to know people, but what does that have to do with coaching kids, exactly?”
“You get to interact with their parents.”
The words ‘interact with parents’ brought Daisy’s mom to mind, the way she’d run into a wall at the vet clinic when he called her name. Her shy fascination with him was giving him a growing panic.
Andrew gripped the steering wheel with one hand and placed the other hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about interacting with parents.” One in particular.
Through the corner of his eyes, he could see Ezra staring at him.
“Why’s that?”
“Have you seen the way Bianca reacts around me?” He had a suspicion that her twisted ankle at the Christmas party had been his doing somehow, but it was hard to tell. “It’s like I have thorns that are going to prick her if she comes within my reach.”
Ezra laughed and slapped Andrew’s shoulder. “Quit gawking at her, for Pete’s sake. The way you stared at her at the wedding, I don’t blame her for being scared of you.”
“I was staring at your wife,” Andrew said defensively. He doubted Ezra believed him, but there was no way he was about to admit that he’d stared at Bianca intentionally. He would eventually tell him, if anything came out of their relationship, but at this point, there was nothing to admit to.
“Uh..huh.” Ezra smirked. “Are you trying to assure yourself or me?”
Was he? Andrew remained silent, not sure what to say without giving away his conflicting feelings for Bianca. He had no idea what to think about her, yet.
He switched lanes and jumped in front of a loud semi as he approached the I-70 exit.
“This is your chance to redeem yourself and start over with a proper introduction,” Ezra said after the brief silence. “Show her that you’re a normal person and not Mr. Charming from Mars.” He shrugged and lowered his voice. “Do it for Daisy. For you...and Bianca.”
Andrew’s entire body tingled at the mention of her name, which totally annoyed and confused him—as it had ever since he’d seen her at the wedding.
“For Daisy!” he said, his voice almost inaudible. Daisy was a happy little girl, and perhaps Ezra and Leila’s involvement somehow contributed to her happiness . The more people involved in her life, the less likely she would be to miss her dad so much—at least Andrew hoped so. “You’ll have to help me on days that I can’t make it.”
“Deal!”
Now that Daisy’s soccer practice was going to be a part of his schedule on his da
ys off, he hoped that the field being close to the fire station would make it easier for him to coach on his work days, if they had a quiet afternoon at work.
What better way to get involved with soccer than to play it?
CHAPTER 4
Standing in front of the mirror, Bianca tugged at the sleeves of the long-sleeved black shirt sticking out from underneath the burgundy scrubs. She then pulled her long hair back into a ponytail.
Having awakened an hour earlier than usual, she’d made eggs for breakfast instead of cereal. She’d drunk her coffee while she read the Bible, then spent a few minutes praying, something she rarely had a chance to do lately, because of her life being on the go.
Not the best excuse, because God had to come first place in her life, just like Leila would always remind herself whenever she got busy.
Bianca could hear her daughter chattering over the TV noise as she talked to her grandma. Daisy preferred talking over eating, but she would be telling Bianca how hungry she was before they got halfway to school.
A glance at her Android on the wooden nightstand showed eight am, giving her another twenty minutes before she needed to get Daisy to school. She opened the chest drawer to retrieve her car keys. They jingled in her hand, and her wedding ring fell to the floor with a soft thud.
She picked it up from the brown carpet and gave it a cursory glance. After contemplating sliding it onto her wedding finger, she recalled the reason she’d tucked it away in the first place. The ring mark on her finger reminded her that her fingers were chubbier than they’d been twelve years ago when she got married. She would have worn the ring on a chain, but she couldn't stand wearing anything around her neck.
After several months of attending GriefShare, Bianca was finally starting to admit to herself what she had been denying for the six years since John's death—her husband was never coming back home.
She sank down on the full size bed, her mind wandering. Nothing had changed much since John's passing. They had shared the bed she still slept in. She smiled when she thought of how they used to think a small bed was the perfect size so they could keep each other warm.
She reached for the wooden frame that was propped on her nightstand, then stared at the picture from their wedding. Memories were a blur. They’d both been eighteen when they got married, not caring what their future held.
Being just out of high school, they’d had less professional jobs—Bianca worked at Wendy's and Home Depot, while John waited tables at a five star hotel and restaurant. They’d saved up enough money to put a down payment on a fixer-upper two bedroom house right before John joined the army.
She gently stroked her fingers over his face in the frame. “Daisy will be starting soccer soon. Leila’s husband is going to be her coach. He’s so good to us, and such a nice man. You two would’ve been the best of friends.”
She and Leila had been best friends way before Bianca had met John. Although Leila was two years younger and had been two grades below, they’d managed to sustain that friendship.
She set the frame back. As much as she wanted to keep John’s memory alive, never wanting to forget what he looked like, the realization had hit lately that she had to look at his picture to maintain that nearness.
She saw him in Daisy’s smile and her cheerful personality, and that should count.
Her eyes darted to the chipped, off-white paint on the wall. The same color it had been in the house when they bought it.
Her eyes then drifted to one of the two Firefighter Calendars, where Andrew’s picture stared back at her. His chiseled face and prominent chin gave him what people would call classic good looks.
If she were to ever go on a date with him, she would definitely have to shop for a special evening dress and stilettos to match it. That's what she envisioned whenever she looked at the calendar, at least.
A warmth rushed through her and she felt guilty for thinking about Andrew while remembering John at the same time. Closing her eyes, she tried to shove thoughts of Andrew aside and envision instead what John’s skin had felt like, how his voice had sounded. The details were all fading away—all except the sweet memory of what they had shared so briefly. The empty, aching loneliness he had left behind was all that remained.
Slowly opening her eyes, Bianca drew in a breath and reached for her purse from the end of the bed, tucked her keys and phone inside it, then pulled up from the squeaky mattress. She meandered toward her small closet, passing by the stacked boxes and her mother’s oak dresser.
Bianca had called Ezra and Jake to help move the dresser out of her mother’s room to create enough space for her wheelchair, which Mama had decided not to use.
Crouching, she slid on her low-top All-Stars and pulled down her black coat from the rack. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stepped out into the small hallway that led to the living room adjoining the kitchen.
The TV blared in Spanish, and Bianca gave her half brother a cursory glance. Mateo sat on the futon, feet sprawled out on the wooden coffee table. The futon served as Mateo’s bed the few nights he stayed at the house, and it was the family couch during the day.
Mama sat at the table, her hands resting on it as she listened intently to whatever Daisy was telling her.
Mama’s short salt-and-pepper hair was nicely combed to the back, and her long black dress covered half of the boot on her leg. They both turned toward Bianca when she approached.
“You’re ready?” Mama asked.
“Almost.”
Bianca had invited Mama to move in with her after John died. By combining their income from Mama’s house cleaning and Bianca’s job, they could manage a mortgage payment without digging too deep into their paychecks.
“Mom.” Daisy dropped her fork back onto her untouched eggs, now smothered with ketchup. “Grandma made me a tortilla roll-up with peanut butter and bananas for lunch.”
Daisy had her grandma’s energy. Despite the doctor’s orders to stay off her foot, Mama was on a mission to catch up where she’d left off.
As soon as Carmen had returned home, Bianca had had to make a last minute trip to a couple of thrift stores to find a bar stool so that her mama could reach the stove. Mama had promptly made a stack of flour tortillas and tostadas, enough to feed an army.
“That’s great, Sweetie.” Bianca opened the cabinet and pulled down a package of ziplock bags. “As long as she doesn’t put much pressure on her foot,” she said as she filled a bag with nuts, hoping to indirectly relay the message to Mama not to overdo it.
“Don’t listen to them doctors, Mijita.” Mama leaned forward to whisper to Daisy, “They just want to boss everybody around. In a few days, I will make you huevos rancheros instead of the plain eggs.”
Bianca shook her head, smiling. “You better eat some of your eggs and say goodbye to Grandma, Munchkin. We need to get going.”
Daisy shoved a bite of eggs into her mouth, then gave her grandma a greasy goodbye kiss. Bianca packed her lunch in a grocery bag, then turned to her mother. “I’m going to call a handyman to get the microwave fixed, and all the other things, too. ”
Mama gave her a speculative look. “Didn’t Leila’s husband say you should call her anytime you need anything?”
“They just had a baby and they already help me so much with Daisy.” She hated intruding on the minimal time Ezra had off to catch up on resting, just to ask for his help.
On the way out the door, Bianca remembered the flyer she’d picked up at Daisy’s school for her brother. She sauntered toward Mateo. He was older than Bianca by three years, but his rumpled dark hair made him look like a young man in his early twenties. He flipped the remote to switch to a soccer channel.
Mateo had been in the US for the last two years, but didn’t put effort into finding a real job, prefering to perform with a mariachi band that called him for gigs once or twice a week. He was content living on tips from customers in the restaurant.
The paper crackled when she dug it out of her handbag
and set it on the coffee table next to his feet. Her hand almost knocked over the opened bag of Flamin’ Hot Funyuns. “They’re hiring a custodian,” she spoke in Spanish.
Even though Mateo spoke a little English, Bianca wanted to make sure that he understood what she was saying. Especially when it came to work.
She’d just paid to renew his work permit, and she had to take it upon herself to make sure that he got the job. “You don’t have to speak English or interact with anybody if you don't want to. The flyer says no experience necessary.”
Mateo barely glanced at the paper before returning his gaze to the soccer game. “I’m getting one soon,” he said in Spanish over the loud TV. “Alfonzo said he got another restaurant for us to perform at three nights a week.”
BIANCA SWALLOWED IN frustration, and held back the sharp words that threatened to come out of her mouth when Daisy ran across the linoleum floor to Mateo’s side.
“Bye, Uncle.” Daisy flung her arms around Mateo, knocking the remote to the floor. Her wide smile made Bianca feel like a jerk.
“Stay out of trouble, sweet girl, okay?” Mateo said.
“Okay.” Daisy nodded cheerfully.
Not having a lot of family around, Daisy clung to any family members or friends in Bianca’s life. It was evident how much she loved having her uncle around.
Just like every other time in the car, Daisy had soccer on her mind, especially with her first practice being tomorrow. Daisy had been talking about it for the last two weeks.
Accompanied by the swishing of the wipers as they brushed the soft snowflakes from the windshield, Bianca listened to her daughter’s excited chatter.
“Did you already put my shoes in the car?” Daisy bounced in her seat.
“You did, two nights ago.”
Daisy giggled. “Oh, silly me. When you pick me up from school, can we just go straight to practice instead?”
“You will need to eat something first. Plus, you get out at two-thirty and practice starts at five, Sweetie. That's a lot of time waiting around the field.” Bianca glanced through the rearview mirror to watch her daughter’s reaction.
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