Are you sure? She wanted to ask. But that was the old Ellie, the little mouse. She’d never done such good work as these past few weeks. If she left now, she knew she’d probably put away her paints again for a long time.
I said I wasn’t a coward.
Ellie nodded toward his door. “Your feet must be freezing.” But instead of waiting and walking behind him, she led the way.
* * *
The foam ball hit the top of the doorframe.
“Yessss—Martinez makes the shot,” her son exulted, dancing across the kitchen.
Luisa smiled, skirting around him as she crossed the kitchen. He was all but vibrating with excitement. “Excuse me, Mr. Basketball Pro. Groceries coming through.”
He retrieved the ball. “Not supposed to carry groceries across the court, Mom.” Carlito shot her a grin. “You’ll get ejected. You might as well throw your ticket money in the dumpster.”
This was the laughing son she’d known for years, not the angry stranger. Luisa had to resist the urge to go to him, to clasp him in her arms. It was the hardest thing about having her final teenager, the skin hunger of not having children who’d allow hugs whenever she felt the need. This, her last child, she wasn’t ready to quit hugging. But she wasn’t going to shatter the fragile peace of the moment.
“Sure you wouldn’t like something to eat before you go?”
“Tom says we’ll grab a bite before the game.” He glanced at the clock. “He should be here any minute.”
The phone shrilled. Carlito raced to pick it up. “Chicken Shack, what’s your order?”
Luisa rolled her eyes, her grin spreading.
“Hey, Dad!”
Luisa’s stomach clenched.
“Yeah, school’s fine. Hey, guess what? I’m going to the Spurs game tonight.”
He turned away from her. “With Tom Sinclair.”
She watched his shoulders slump. “Well, I could call him, if you want me to—”
Damn you, Ramon. What was he doing? Making promises he couldn’t keep? Setting his son up for heartbreak again?
Carlito pulled the cord out, twisting it around his fingers, his shoulders tight and strained. “I guess—I mean, I think he’s already on his way and everything—”
She edged her way around him, wanting to signal that she’d take over this conversation. Her fingers flexed, itching to yank the phone away before Ramon totally destroyed the joy that had filled the room only moments earlier.
Carlito cast a glance sideways at her, seeming almost to be begging for help—yet when she moved toward him, he turned away again.
His voice went flat. “It’s no big deal, Pop. It’s nothing to me.” He listened intently, shrinking further into himself.
The doorbell rang. Her mother was watching Wheel of Fortune. The program was sacred; Consuela was not to be disturbed.
Luisa didn’t want to leave her son at Ramon’s mercy, but she had no choice. Walking with rapid steps, she opened the door.
“Hi.” Tom’s energy, as always, preceded him. He lifted his eyebrows. “Carlito ready?”
Luisa cast a glance back over her shoulder. Carlito was hanging up the phone.
“It’s Ramon. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s trying to ruin it somehow.” She pushed open the screen door. “Oh, Tom, Carlito was so excited. He’s been shooting baskets all over the house. It was like the good days, until—” She heard her son’s steps behind her.
“Hey, guy,” Tom greeted. “You ready to roll?”
Luisa turned. Carlito’s excitement had vanished.
He shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Carlito—” she warned. “Tom is—”
“Tom is starving,” her visitor interjected. “You ready to go demolish some fajitas?”
Carlito’s eyes sparked, then just as quickly, as though he’d just remembered himself, he settled back into world-weariness. “I guess.”
She took in a breath to remind him of his manners, but Tom squeezed her arm. She glanced at him, seeing him shake his head.
“You need to take anything?” Tom asked her son.
Carlito shrugged again. “Nah.”
Luisa was mortified. Tom was doing this to help her out, and her ungrateful son…and his bastard father…
With effort, she held her tongue, stepping back from the doorway. Pulling on all her reserves of composure, she pasted on a smile. “You two have fun.”
Her son said nothing. Tom slapped one hand on Carlito’s back, following him out the door. “Just don’t tell us to be good, okay? Carlito can, if he wants, but I don’t promise anything.”
She thought she caught the wisp of a smile on her son’s face. Please, Carlito.
Luisa waved goodbye to Tom before closing the door and leaning back against it. Please what? Please be good? Please be the child I once knew?
Surely, after two other adolescents, she knew better. They were never again the children you knew. With luck, they became adults you could respect. For not the first time in her life, she wished she owned a time machine so that she could visit her children at any age she wished.
The years had been hard, trying to raise them after her divorce. Hard? They’d been crushing, at times. But she’d refreshed her spirit so many times, tucking them into bed at night, being the recipient of easy hugs and kisses…reading them stories, making favorite foods.
Carlito had been the easiest of all, her sunny child.
Please, Carlito. Be my sunny child again.
With a sigh, she pushed off from the door and headed to the kitchen.
* * *
Tom understood what Luisa didn’t: sometimes a guy just didn’t want to talk about it. Women took comfort in talking, in endlessly examining a situation for its every nuance, gleaning from each human encounter the tiniest grains of learning. Their antennae were so sensitive they could receive a thousand channels where a man got three.
He’d long ago learned that he didn’t need to hear all Ava needed to say, but he listened because she needed to talk.
But she’d also had to learn that sometimes a guy just didn’t want to talk things over. Sometimes the best course was to put away whatever had happened and move on.
If Carlito wanted to talk, he’d listen. But he wouldn’t pry.
Gradually, as the evening wore on, Carlito had loosened up. He’d wolfed down the fajitas and was now eating a hot dog after having consumed an order of nachos and two soft drinks.
The Spurs were kicking butt. Their bellies were full. A young girl was giving Carlito come hither glances.
Things could be worse.
“Man, did you see that?” Carlito turned to him, mouth full, eyes shining. “That new forward is awesome!”
Tom grinned. Carlito grinned back.
“Yeah, if only I’d practiced my hook shot when I was your age.”
“And grown eight inches taller.”
Tom laughed. “And had coordination.”
Carlito gave him a high five.
“How’s band going?”
Carlito shrugged. “The director’s an asshole.” He cut a glance to see if he’d be reprimanded.
“But an asshole who can take you to State.”
The boy grinned. “Yeah.”
“You ever think of forming your own band? Aren’t you playing guitar, too?”
Another shrug. “No place to practice.”
“You can’t use the shed behind the house?”
“My grandmother would go crazy.”
“What’s your mom say?”
“I haven’t asked.”
“I bet she’d take your side.”
A long pause. “We don’t get along so good. My dad says she treats me like a baby.”
The killer part of a bad divorce, the tug of war. “What do you think?”
“She watches me too close. Always wanting to know where I am and shit. Nobody else’s mom does that.”
“She cares about you, Carlito.”
“Carl
os. Carlito’s a kid’s name.”
Tom nodded. “Carlos. I’ll try to get it right. But you know old brains—they don’t change so easily.”
Carlos shot him a sideways glance. “You’re not so old. My dad’s almost your age.”
Careful now. “How’s your dad doing?”
“He’s—” A slight frown ghosted across the boy’s face. “He’s all right, I guess.”
“Still living in town?”
“Yeah, but he’s talking about moving to California.” He sipped his drink, eyes still on the game. “He wants me to go with him.”
Whoa. That would kill Luisa. “And what do you think?”
“He says I’m a man now. I wouldn’t have a curfew. I could make my own rules.”
Lying asshole. Dangerous, lying asshole. He’d met Ramon a few times. Tom had no respect for a man who used his fists on women and children. There would be rules, all right. Enforced by Ramon’s fists.
“California’s a long way away.”
Carlos cut his gaze over to Tom. “My mom—”
“Would miss you. A lot.”
“Not really. She’d probably be relieved.”
Tom placed one hand on the boy’s shoulder, turning Carlos toward him. “If you believe that, you’re kidding yourself. Your mother is strict with you because she’s afraid. She sees the dangers around you. But she loves you, surely you know that. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have fought so hard to make a better life for all of you.”
“She took me away from my dad.”
Uh-oh. “You know why she did that.”
Carlos shrugged him off. “So she says. I was a little kid. I don’t remember it. He’s never hit me.”
“Never?”
“Naw—I mean, sometimes he gets pretty mad and he’s shoved me a few times, but he always says he’s sorry.”
“And that’s enough? Carlos, a real man doesn’t need to use his strength against those who are smaller.”
He’d gone too far. He could tell it by the stiffening shoulders. Ramon might be worthless, but he was the only father Carlos had.
Tom decided on the adult approach. “Hey, I’m sorry. Maybe you don’t want to hear that about your dad, but you know it’s true, don’t you? A man uses his strength to care for those who are weaker, not to hurt them.”
Carlos was very quiet. “My dad says he misses me. He wants another chance. But my mom won’t listen to a word he says. She hates him.”
Tom sighed. “Listen, I’m not going to treat you like a little kid and tell you everything’s going to be fine. You know better. Your parents have a lot of hard history between them. It’s the worst part of divorce, that kids just want a whole family back together, but sometimes that can’t happen. There’s nothing you can do to fix that, Carlos. But don’t blame your mother for trying to make your life better. She’s worked damn hard to be sure you kids were safe and had everything you needed.”
“She won’t let me grow up,” Carlos cried. “She does treat me like a baby.”
“And you’re acting like one when you sulk and lash out at her.”
The boy’s face turned dark and he jerked away, rising and heading for the aisle.
Tom followed him out to the concession area. “Carlos, if you want to be treated like a man, come back here and act like one. Face me, don’t run away.”
The boy stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Listen, no one ever said growing up was easy.” Tom laughed ruefully, running one hand around the back of his neck. “Hell, being a teenager is the pits. You’re on a rollercoaster ride, trying to figure out a world where your illusions are disappearing, one by one.”
He walked around to face the boy, placing his hands on Carlos’s shoulders. “I’m nearly three times your age, and I haven’t figured it all out. Life is just one long classroom, and sometimes we make As and sometimes we flunk out. Everyone, Carlos. Your mom, your dad, me… Part of this you have to figure out by yourself, but there’s a really important point you should never forget.”
Carlos lifted his gaze, but didn’t ask.
“You are not alone in this. Your mom loves you, you know that. You’ve got friends. You can come to me anytime. If you don’t feel like you can talk to your mom, you give me a call.”
Time to back off. He’d made the offer. “And now, I can take you home…or we can catch the second half. It’s your call.”
Carlos stared outside. Tom waited. Growing up was a bitch.
“Sometimes I worry, you know? What if my dad’s lonely?”
Ah, Christ. This kid had too much heart for his own good.
Placing one arm around the boy’s shoulders, Tom caught his eye. “Sometimes they make you feel like you have to choose?”
Carlos nodded, a boy again.
Tom walked carefully over treacherous ground. “This may be where you have to make your stand, Carlos. Tell them you’re not going to choose. It’s human nature for them to want it, but it doesn’t mean you have to do it.”
The dark eyes studied him. “How do I make them stop?”
“I don’t have a perfect answer, son. But I think the first step is to tell them both you’re not playing the game.”
“And what’s the second?”
“Making sure you don’t.” He hugged the boy against him. “You can do it. It won’t be easy, but you can.”
“Just like that?”
Tom smiled wryly. “First lesson in adult life. Nothing happens just like that. You make up your mind and you try…and sometimes you do it and sometimes you fall…but you just have to get back up and try again.”
Carlos didn’t look reassured. “Being a little kid is better, isn’t it?”
Tom laughed. “It’s what every adult tells every child. Too bad none of us listen. We’re all in too big a hurry to grow up.”
“I can really call you?”
“Anytime, Carlos. Night or day.”
The boy smiled and straightened. “I think I want to catch the second half.”
Tom slapped him on the back, nodding. “You got it.”
Chapter Six
‡
“Camille Paglia is an idiot,” Luisa announced. “She’s setting the female sex back thirty years.”
Ava heard the comment as she walked back into the living room of her Hyde Park home. “I love her.”
“What?” Laken sat up straight from where she’d been sunken back, lounging on the wine-red cushions of the huge, overstuffed sofa Tom loved. “You of all people, Ava? I figured she’d have you screaming.”
“Nothing I love better than an iconoclast. Can’t you see she’s jerking you around, Luisa? She’s refusing to say a strident feminist can’t love sex and men and Harleys.”
“She’s pretentious,” Sylvie spoke up. “She’s going for shock value.”
“Well, she sure shocked me, defending Madonna,” Ellie contributed. “I can’t stand Madonna.”
“Madonna’s toned down a lot,” Laken mocked. “She’s gone respectable.”
“You’re kidding, right? Did you see her at the Grammys?” Ava laughed. “I can’t imagine having your kids grow up and taking another look at your misspent youth through their eyes. Can you imagine showing your teenager those old videos or her photo book?”
That got a laugh out of everyone. “Gawd,” Laken drawled. “Thank goodness I don’t have kids.”
Ava looked fondly at her friend. “You don’t have videos to worry about.” She narrowed her gaze. “Do you?”
Laken actually blushed. Whoops and whistles cut the air, along with applause.
“That does it. No book next month. We need to watch videos,” Ellie teased.
“Yeah. Like you and Wyatt don’t know how to do it,” Laken shot back.
“Oooh, Ellie’s getting bold since she faced down bad ol’ Saxon,” Ava jeered.
“You did?” Luisa was intrigued.
Ellie blushed. “Ava, I didn’t tell you so you could go squeal.”
“What ha
ppened? No more talk about the book until Ellie dishes the dirt.” Laken poured another glass of wine and settled back into the cushions.
“It was nothing. Just a misunderstanding.”
Ava saluted with her glass. “With a bare-chested, angry barbarian.”
Laken whistled shrilly through her teeth. “I’d pay money to see it.”
“What?” Sylvie intervened. “Ellie…or the bare chest?”
“The chest. She can call me and tell me the story.”
Everyone laughed.
“Come on, Ellie. We’re waiting.”
“Yeah,” Ava urged. “Tell us about the fight.”
“Fight?” Sylvie frowned. “You fought with him?”
“And won.” Ava stated. “Of course, she fought dirty.”
“What did she use? Fists? A big stick?”
“A chair?”
“Her easel?”
Ava shook her head. “Something much more lethal.”
They all waited. Ava paused. “Come on, kid. Spill it.”
“What did you use, darling?”
Ellie lifted her head, her cheeks burning. She shot Ava a glare.
Ava shrugged.
Ellie gestured with one hand. “Just cranberry bread.”
Laken choked on her wine. “Oh, that’s low, Ellie. A bachelor who lives in his studio and you tortured him with home-baked bread?”
“It was her temper that did it. Ellie got mad,” Ava explained.
“Mad? Our Ellie?”
“Ava, I am never telling you another story. I don’t think we’re speaking anymore, come to think of it.”
Ava just smiled. “You can’t stay mad at me. Besides, you should be proud. You vanquished the Viking.”
“I didn’t vanquish him. He’s—he’s not so bad.”
Catcalls filled the room.
“Of course he is,” Laken pronounced. “Ill-tempered, no manners, yells at our Ellie. We need to take action, ladies. Let’s march on his studio and show him how the cow ate the cabbage.”
Sylvie’s seldom-heard musical laughter filled the air. “How the cow ate the cabbage? Laken, I think you’ve been in Texas too long. Your California forebears would die.”
The Book Babes Boxed Set (Texas Ties/Texas Troubles/Texas Together) Page 8