“I had no choice,” Lucio said. “My father was a professional soccer player when he was young—a goalkeeper for the team in Seville. He also made it to the national team a few times.”
“No way!” Josh said.
“Sounds like me,” Jason said, tossing a half-eaten slice back into the box. “Dad was a big baseball star in college and he pretty much forced me to follow in his footsteps, but he freaked out on me when I didn’t make the cut on the traveling team.”
Lucio nodded. “The same happened to me. My talent was behind a camera, not in front of a soccer goal. Unfortunately, it just gave my father another reason to make things difficult for me.”
“SOML,” Jason said, shaking his head.
Lucio frowned. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”
“That’s text talk for ‘story of my life,’” Josh said, scrunching up his nose as if he smelled something bad. “Jason likes to use expressions he thinks make him cool.”
“A year on Antarctica wouldn’t make you cool, Josh.”
Lucio grabbed his beer to hide his smile.
“So do you still hang with your dad? Does he still live in that area of Spain you’re from?” Jason asked.
Lucio nodded. “He still lives in Las Alpujarras, but we have not spoken for twenty years, I am sorry to say.”
“Dude!” Jason said. “Seriously?”
“I am afraid so,” Lucio said. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and pressing his fingers together as he considered how to frame this story for the boys. “We did not get along very well. He was … I cannot find the word … anyway, he was up and down all the time with his moods.”
“Unpredictable,” Jason said.
“Volatile,” Josh said.
“Oh, yes.” Lucio paused a moment, not wanting to say anything negative about their own father, but knowing his story resonated with them.
“Dad’s like that sometimes,” Jason said. “It’s frustrating, because I don’t know which Dad I’m going to get when I go over there—the fun and nice one or the complete wack job.”
“It depends on how the ole in-and-out is going for him that week,” Josh said.
Lucio coughed, nearly choking on his surprise. It was a shock to hear how jaded the fifteen-year-olds sounded. It was extremely sad.
Josh continued. “Dad really thought his new pussy-puller would be drawing them in like flies, but it isn’t working. At least the flies don’t fly around for long.”
After blinking a few times, Lucio knew he had to ask. “What is a … uh, what is this puller you mention?”
“The Porsche 911,” Jason said. “That’s what Dad calls it. I guess it’s supposed to help old guys attract young girls.” Jason reached for his half-eaten pizza slice, and in three huge bites it was all eaten.
The Host! Lucio let his forehead drop to his hands. It was a complete mystery how Genevieve had remained married to that man for so long.
“So have you found out who did all that crap to you in China?” Joshua asked, trying to change the subject. “Do you have any suspects?”
Lucio looked up from his hands, seeing the curious faces of the young men. He chuckled with the realization that Josh had not succeeded in changing the subject in the slightest.
“There were quite a few suspects.”
“Really? Who?” Jason asked.
“A few women,” Lucio said. “Unfortunately, for much of my life I did not treat women very well. I left many of them angry with me.”
“What did you do to them?” Josh asked, frowning.
“I was not very kind or respectful. I had a reputation for leaving without saying good-bye.”
Jason’s eyes went huge. “That’s cold!”
“And wrong,” Lucio said. “I have learned my lesson. The way you treat others will surely become the way you get treated.”
Josh looked worried.
“I would never do anything to hurt your mother,” Lucio said. “She is my heart.”
Joshua squinted at him. “So one of these girls decided to make your life miserable?”
“It looks that way. She told my friend Piers what she did. I called her a couple weeks ago, and she admitted it to me.”
“That’s the guy whose place we went to for all the photo equipment, right?” Jason asked.
“Yes. He’s coming over to the house for dinner tomorrow night,” Lucio said.
“Cool,” Jason said.
“So why was this chick so mad at you?” Joshua asked.
Lucio smiled, amused by Joshua’s dogged pursuit of the truth. “We had dated for a few months while we worked on an assignment together. I left her a note saying I was leaving the country, but she followed me to the airport. She cursed at me in front of many passengers, and told me that one day she’d make me pay.”
“So she ripped you a new one right there in public?” Jason asked.
Lucio chuckled. “I’m afraid so. And she could curse in several languages.”
Josh nodded. “She had to be really smart to pull off all that stuff in China, with the paperwork and the bank account and giving your work to the Chinese government.”
Lucio nodded. “Yes. She is a smart woman.”
Josh blew out air, his face looking slightly pale. “Well, thanks for that life lesson,” he told Lucio.
“How do you mean?”
“Dude, I’m going to try my best to never piss off a smart girl.”
Lucio smiled, wishing someone had taught him that lesson when he was fifteen.
CHAPTER 17
Ginger pushed her chair away and began to clear the dishes from the outdoor table.
“Absolutely not,” Piers said, placing a large pale hand over hers. “This has been such a wonderful evening and you’ve already done so much to make me feel welcome. Let me do this, please.”
Her eyes shot to Lucio, who produced a warm smile. “You know, it’s funny,” she said to Piers. “Lucio made that same offer the first night he ate dinner with us. Are all European men this gallant?”
Piers and Lucio looked briefly at each other and then howled with laughter.
“The short answer would be no, guapa, ” Lucio said, coming over to her chair and kissing the top of her head. “And just you wait—twenty years from now I will have forgotten all of my manners. I will be throwing my drawers around and picking my teeth with twigs.”
Josh and Jason thought that was hilarious, but Ginger didn’t believe it for a minute. Lucio was the most conscientious person—man or woman—she’d ever known. And his good habits had most definitely rubbed off on her boys, who, at that very moment, were helping to clear the table without being asked. But what resonated most in Lucio’s joke was the reference to twenty years in the future. The idea of a lifetime with him at her side sent a shiver of pleasure through her.
“Do you need a sweater, my love?” Lucio asked.
“I’ll get it, but thank you.” She placed a tender kiss on Lucio’s lips before she headed for the patio door. The boys had become used to their kisses and caresses, though she and Lucio had been careful to create a PG-13 environment around the house—the last thing they wanted to do was turn the place into a replica of Larry’s Barely Legal Love Emporium three blocks away.
But one look at Piers and Ginger knew he’d been surprised by the kiss. Piers stopped stacking dishes and stared at her and Lucio, his mouth slightly open.
She smiled at him, and he smiled back, clearly embarrassed.
Piers was an odd bird, she had to say. As Ginger walked upstairs she thought of how awkward he seemed when he first arrived with Lucio that evening. Shy and stammering, he needed some time before he relaxed, but once he did, he had the boys enthralled with stories of his mishaps and misadventures. He and Lucio got into a rhythm with their storytelling, and Ginger had been charmed by how Piers sometimes finished Lucio’s sentences when his friend struggled to find the correct English, just as she and the boys sometimes did.
She could see how close they
were. She understood that they knew each other well and respected each other immensely. Ginger knew all about their past, how Lucio left the heartbroken Sylvie in London for Piers to deal with. She knew how sad Piers had been after she passed away. It had been Ginger who suggested Lucio invite him over.
It was nice of Piers to offer to pick up Jason after school tomorrow and show him his work.
Jason asked specifically to see his passport. “Is yours as sloppy and overstuffed as Lucio’s?” he asked.
Piers had laughed. “His is tidy compared to mine.”
Ginger had almost reached the top of the stairs when her head suddenly felt funny. She had to brace herself against the banister. She stumbled up the last two steps and kept a hand on the wall as she ran toward the master bathroom, not sure she’d get there in time. The sickness hit her with almost no warning, and it left her weak and dizzy.
After a few moments, Ginger made it to the sink. She washed her face with cold water and rinsed out her mouth, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“No way,” she whispered, examining the rosy flush of her skin. “There is absolutely no way this can be happening.”
Ginger’s hands gripped the bathroom counter. She needed to calm down. It didn’t have to be that. It could be a virus, or something she’d eaten. It could be menopause! Of course!
But what else did she need to consider?
Well, how about the fact that the condom broke the night of the earthquake?
How many weeks ago was that?
But she’d had her period.
She’d had two periods, even!
But they’d both been lighter than usual, and shorter, with the spotting in between. And there were days when she was just bone-deep exhausted for no reason.
“Oh, God!” She knew if she weren’t careful she’d start to hyperventilate. She didn’t want Lucio to find her passed out on the bathroom floor, now did she?
Oh, crap. Lucio! He’d been so glad she wasn’t pregnant!
Ginger ran a brush through her hair, willing the tears to stay put in their ducts. She applied a little lipstick. She took a slow and deep breath, deciding that for the rest of the evening she’d just relax. Maybe she’d skip that second glass of wine, fine, but other than that, it would be business as usual. Then tomorrow, after she got back from her morning walk with the girls, she’d stop by the drugstore and pick up a test kit. She’d make a point of stopping at a pharmacy on the other side of town, where no one knew her.
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” she said, turning, taking a moment to catch her side view reflection in the mirror. She smoothed her skirt across her belly. She sucked in and held her breath.
She wondered exactly what she was seeing—one too many waffles that morning or a baby?
A baby she’d made with Lucio. A baby growing inside her.
Oh, Lord, what had she done?
This wasn’t supposed to happen to her.
For God’s sake—she was forty!
Lucio and Ginger said their final good nights to Piers and shut the front door. The boys retreated to the family room, hoping to catch the end of the game.
“All right,” Lucio said, leading Ginger to the sofa and gesturing for her to sit. He plopped next to her. “Let’s have it.”
Oh, damn. She thought she’d done an excellent job of pretending she was carefree. Relaxed. Not pregnant. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Really.”
“Genevieve.” Lucio shook his head, scolding her. “I meant it when I said I want to know everything that’s going on with you. Please don’t try to hide it from me. I can tell when there’s something wrong.”
She gave him a halfhearted smile.
“You do not like Piers, is that it?”
“Ha! No. I mean yes. I like him. He’s shy but sweet. That’s not it.”
Lucio frowned at her. “You didn’t eat much at dinner. No dessert. You were quiet the last part of the evening, too. Is your stomach bothering you again?”
“A little. I think I’m just tired.” Genevieve tried to rise from the couch, but he grabbed her arm, gently pressed her down on her back and stretched out her legs. He got on top of her.
“Guapa,” he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face so that he could kiss her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her chin. “I worry about you, yes? I think you should see your doctor. It could be something serious.”
Ginger was overwhelmed at the concern she saw in his eyes. She truly loved this man. He was everything she could ever hope for. But how would he react if she really was pregnant? He’d been so happy when she told him she wasn’t! And later he’d said he might have been open to the idea if he’d met her earlier!
But it wasn’t earlier. It was now. And he’d already told her he didn’t think he would be a good father now.
Ginger kissed him sweetly on the lips and ran her fingertips down his rough stubble. She knew there was no point in freaking him out tonight. She would tell him when, and if, she had news to tell.
“I’ll make an appointment,” she told him. “But please don’t worry. It’s probably nothing.”
The crease between his dark eyebrows deepened. “I … I love you with all my soul, pelirroja. I have never loved anyone before you. How can I not worry?”
“I love you, too, Lucio,” Ginger said, raising her mouth to his. “I know everything’s going to be fine.”
“I’ll be damned—it’s official.” Bea stood at the top of the hill at Dolores Park early the next morning, obviously near tears. She let Martina off the leash as they approached, whipping out the folded newspaper she’d been holding under her arm.
She held it up. A twenty-four-point bold headline ran the width of the front page, just below the masthead. It said simply:
GOOD-BYE, SAN FRANCISCO
“Aw, man, that’s so incredibly sad,” Josie said, scowling. “How long have you known?”
Bea laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding? I didn’t know. Nobody did! They didn’t bother telling those of us who were still employed.”
“You’re kidding?” Roxanne said.
“I’m not. I just pulled this out of the newspaper box at the corner of Market and Sixteenth!”
“It was bound to happen,” Ginger said, her voice quiet. “At least you were one of the last few people in the newsroom.”
“Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Bea said.
Josie patted her on the arm. “Have you been thinking about what you might like to do?”
Bea nodded. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about getting into canine agility training as a profession. I’d need to get certified, but that wouldn’t take too long.”
“Hey, and you could use your Petography picture on your business cards!” Roxanne suggested.
“I could!”
Suddenly everyone turned to Ginger, who had been unusually quiet. She looked down at her shoes.
“I didn’t think you’d take this so hard,” Bea said. “I know you miss the paper, but you’ve been enjoying your work with Lucio, right?”
Ginger looked up and tried to smile. “I’m having more fun than I ever imagined I would.”
Bea looked baffled. “Then why the long face?”
Ginger took a second to look into her friends’ eyes, one at a time. “This is a little embarrassing to tell you.”
“Uh-oh,” Roxanne said.
“What’s wrong?” Josie asked, stepping close.
Ginger wrapped her arms around her ribs, as if she were trying to prop herself up. “Well, it’s just that I’ve got a really bad feeling about something and I was wondering if you guys would let me vent for a minute.”
“Uh-oh,” Roxanne said again.
“I might need your help with something this morning, is all I’m saying. Is everyone free?”
Bea laughed. “Can’t get much freer than the four of us. What’s going on?”
“Wait. Let me guess,” Roxie said. “You think Lucio’s going to dump you and you want us to help you spy on him
!” She pounded her fist on her thigh and shook her head in disgust. “That low-down, dirty, no-good, chicken-shit motherfucker!”
After a stunned moment of silence, Ginger said, “Uh, nooo. ”
Bea looked impressed. “That was a Pulitzer Prize–winning spew of obscenity, Rox—how long you been waiting for the perfect moment to unleash that puppy? Is it on the Web site yet?”
“Not yet,” she answered, smiling big. “I came up with it just a couple days ago. It’s great, isn’t it?”
Josie clucked her tongue in annoyance and turned to Ginger. “What’s wrong?” She touched Ginger’s shoulder. “Is Jason in trouble again?”
Ginger smiled. “No, in fact, it’s the opposite. Since Jason’s been helping Lucio, he hasn’t had one truancy issue or curfew violation and his grades are getting a lot better.”
Bea leaned back and examined Ginger studiously. “So did Lucio take off with your credit cards? Steal money from your checking account?”
“What?” Ginger’s mouth fell open. “God, no!”
“Savings?”
“No, Bea! Good Lord! He’d never steal money from me!”
“You think he’s stepping out on you?” Josie’s eyes were huge.
“No, no, no, no, no. ”
“Then it can only be one thing,” Roxanne said, reaching for Ginger’s hand. “He’s going away on assignment, isn’t he?”
“He is?” Ginger’s pulse spiked.
“I don’t know, I’m asking you!” Roxie said, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, girls, this is ridiculous. Just cut to the chase, will you, Ginger?” Bea’s voice suddenly grew soft. “You’re starting to scare me.”
“Okay. Okay.” Ginger took a deep breath. “Look, it could be nothing. It may be that I really am starting menopause. But I’ve got all this weird spotting going on and nausea and I’m exhausted all the time.”
Her three friends said nothing. Roxanne looked like she’d stopped breathing.
“Oh my God,” Josie said, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Yeah,” Ginger said with an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s what I said.”
“What the fuck?” Bea looked frantic. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re all so freaked out about. What’s going on?”
The Night She Got Lucky Page 23