"You sore?" David asked.
"Yeah, a little," she replied.
"I think that's enough for one day. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. The more you ride, the less you'll hurt."
"So I'll get used to it, eh? You say that a lot," Kit replied; an impish smile came to her face.
Kit reached over and pinched him hard on his ass. David let out a sharp, "Ow! What was that for?"
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it!" she said, smiling, then stuck out her tongue at him. David dropped the reins of his horse, then grabbed her and easily threw her over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" Kit yelled, between her laughing, and trying to sound outraged at the same time.
He slowly lowered her down in front of him, his arms around her. As her face came in line with his, she brought her mouth forward and kissed him, as he held her suspended in air.
David unsaddled the horses and handed Kit a grooming brush. She looked at it with a confused look.
"What's this for?" Kit asked.
"That's a grooming brush. At the end of every ride you have to take care of your mount, brush her, comb out her tail and mane and clean out anything she may have picked up in her hooves."
It made perfect sense to Kit, and she took well to the tasks. David showed her how to get her horse to raise her foot for her, how to prop it on her knee and the proper way to use the hoof pick to clean out any stones or other foreign matter.
After their grooming chores were taken care of, they returned to the house and found Jessie lighting some citrus oil lanterns, just as the sun was going down. Jessie had ignited some logs in a large fire pit on the patio and had some split log benches set up for seating. She even went to the trouble of turning off all the lights shining from the house, to further the illusion that they were far from civilization.
As they sat around the fire talking, one of Jessie's stable hands appeared with a guitar. He introduced himself, as Jack, sat down and started playing and singing. She didn't recognize the tune, but had to admit that it was quite lovely. Kit had a hunch that it was all for her benefit. Still, sitting by the fire at David's side, with the strumming guitar and the brilliant stars overhead, was about as perfect an ending to a day as you could get. They might as well have been out on the range in Montana, as far as she was concerned. As if on cue, the soft mournful sound of a coyote howling, wailed in the distance. In truth, it had probably been a dog, but you would never have convinced Kit of that.
Kit leaned comfortably against David, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered in his ear, "Now this; I could get used to."
Chapter 22 - The Interview
"Mom, have you seen my brush?" Kit called out.
"It's in the bathroom above the sink." Celeste answered.
Kit walked briskly into the bathroom, retrieved the brush and hurried back to her room. She dressed in the pants suit, like Julia's, that she had bought for her, the day they first went to brunch after her sleepover. She placed the silk scarf around her neck and tied it to one side. After brushing her hair, she looked in the mirror and turned side to side to assess her appearance.
"How do I look?" Kit asked.
"Kit Collins, you get back in that room and put on a bra."
"Oh Mom, no one can tell. Besides, that thing feels like some kind of torture device, and I'm not planning on taking off my jacket anyway.”
"Alright then," Celeste said. "Try to quit fidgeting, you look great."
"Oh, thanks Mom. I'm just a little nervous. I've never been interviewed before. I wonder what kind of questions they'll ask me."
"Don't worry, you'll do fine. Just be yourself. No one can ask any more of you than that."
"I wonder what's keeping David," Kit said.
"Well, he won't be late for another ten minutes," Celeste said, as she heard the doorbell ring. "See that's him now. Maybe he'll be able to calm you down."
Kit ran to the door and let David in. He took her by the shoulders and leaned in for a kiss.
"No, no David, I just finished my makeup, and I don't want you to mess it up."
"Gee, that's too bad," David replied, as he swooped in and kissed her anyway.
"Now see what you did. I have to go reapply my lip gloss," Kit said, a little frustrated, but pleased at the knowledge that he felt he had to kiss her.
Kit and David arrived at Sybil's gallery. The photographer was still setting up, so they walked among Kit's artwork. David was clearly impressed as they passed each canvas. At last, they came to the two paintings that had been the object of her disagreement with Sybil. The first was a painting of David portrayed as the biblical David, hurling a stone with a leather sling, slaying the giant Goliath. The second was a reenactment of their first kiss on the stoop of her apartment.
"You weren't supposed to see these yet," Kit said.
"Are you kidding?" David replied. "These are great. I love them, and I love that you see me that way. Though it is a lot to live up to," he said.
"You know you'll always be my hero, don't you? No matter what," Kit said.
"And you know I'll always try to be worthy of that," David replied.
David pulled her into his arms and gently kissed her on the lips.
Sybil appeared from around the corner, then seeing them, made a sound of clearing her throat to signal her presence.
"Okay you two, enough of that. The photographer is ready for you Kit," Sybil said.
Kit had no idea that the photo shoot would be such a huge production. The photographer asked her to raise her arm here, or arch her back this way. It was more like a fashion shoot for some glitzy magazine cover. They even had a big fan for a wind-blown hair effect. She really didn't think that she could have gotten through it, if it weren't for David standing off to the side, giving his most supportive looks. Julia's arrival clinched it. "I can do this," she thought. She still wasn't looking forward to the interview with the reporter from the Times, but with David and Julia both there, she knew it would be a lot easier to face.
Julia walked over and stood by Sybil.
"Come to see that the Wicked Queen isn't abusing your little Cinderella?" Sybil asked, trying to sound as diabolical as the Disney character."
“Okay, maybe I over-reacted a little the last time we talked," Julia said, apologetic. "By the way, the Wicked Queen is from Sleeping Beauty, not Cinderella!"
"That's okay, I always get those two mixed up. Still, you know I have a thick skin. I can take it," Sybil said.
"She's doing fine. She's actually a lot more photogenic than I gave her credit for, but I think any girl would be, with that Adonis standing there looking on," Sybil said, motioning to David standing off to the side. "He hasn't taken his eyes off her the whole shoot. Look at her. He seems to bring out the best in her. I wish a man would look at me that way."
"Sybil was right," Julia thought. Kit had blossomed, and the transformation was astounding actually. She had made the leap from a girl, unsure of herself, to a confident young woman, in the space of a few weeks. And it was obvious that the young man standing there, had made much, if not all the difference.
"Say, don't you think you're over-doing it a bit with the photographer and all?" Julia asked.
"Just getting my money's worth," Sybil said. "The photographer owed me a favor, for, shall we say, services rendered," Sybil said with a wink.
"Sybil," Julia said, "You're terrible."
"Don't judge; a girl's gotta have a love life. And if you haven't found your Mr. Right, (like some people we know), then you have to settle for Mr. Right-now." Sybil gestured an obvious reference to Kit and David.
The photographer finished with his shots and walked over to Sybil.
"I think we've got what we need, Sybil," the photographer said.
"Wonderful. Thank you Matthew," Sybil replied. "Okay everyone, we have the Times coming in one hour. I've taken the liberty of ordering in for lunch. I Hope everyone likes Chinese.
As the rest ate their lunches, Kit seemed preoccupied and
merely picked at her food.
"What's the matter Babe, are you nervous about the interview?" David asked.
"Yeah, a little," Kit replied. "I just hope I don't say anything dumb."
"You'll be fine," David said, "It's just a newspaper story."
"Yeah, in the New York frikkin Times. Do you know how many people read that newspaper?"
"A lot, I suppose," David answered. "You should still try to eat something, so you don't pass out or something from low blood-sugar."
"Oh great, I didn't even think about that," Kit said. "I'm glad to see that my nervousness hasn't affected your appetite."
David had finished his Sweet and Sour Dumplings and his Chow Mein, and was now working on Kit's uneaten Chicken Teriyaki. David extended a bite of chicken to Kit. At first, she refused, but he was insistent, hovering his chopsticks in front of her mouth.
"Come on," he said. "It's really good."
She finally took a bite, then a few more.
Soon they found themselves together alone.
"David, I was wondering about something you said yesterday at Jessie's."
"You mean when I introduced you as my girlfriend?"
"Yes," Kit said, glad that she wouldn't have to make him guess, or say it herself.
"Yeah, I guess I should have asked you if it was alright. I just sort of figured that you felt the same way about me."
"I do," Kit said, "I just didn't know you felt that way too." She leaned in and placed a hand to his cheek then kissed him warmly on the lips.
"I'm proud that you would want me to be your girlfriend," Kit said. "In fact, I've been wanting to introduce you to some of my friends, and I've been wondering how to do that. I've even rehearsed it in my mind, saying the words. To say that you were my friend, never seemed adequate. Isn't it funny how just the word 'boy' or 'girl' in front of it, changes the meaning entirely?"
"I hope that you always introduce me as your boyfriend," he said. "or perhaps, one day, even more."
"Even more?" Kit thought. What did he mean by that?
"I guess it's just a lesson to us that we should always be honest with each other and say exactly what's on our minds," David said.
A thought flashed through Kit's mind at his words. She had not been honest with him. She lied about her age. Suddenly, she felt compelled to tell him the truth. She sat there a moment, considering the consequences. Would he think that she was too young for him, or worse, would he just think her a compulsive liar and not worthy of his trust?
"David, I'm not fifteen; I'm fourteen," she blurted, "But I'll be fifteen in August, and I'm sorry I lied to you." She said. The words gushed out in a quick nervous spurt. She cringed, waiting for his response.
"I know," he said, calmly smiling and seeming totally unaffected.
"You know? How?"
"I asked your Mom. She told me."
"If you knew, why didn't you call me on it?"
"I figured you had your reasons, and the most logical was that you wanted me to consider you more mature. I can't fault you for that."
"So I just proved how immature I was, didn't I? You should probably be with someone more your own age. Someone who wasn't so neurotic."
"Why, you know someone?" he said, feigning interest.
Kit reached out and punched him in the shoulder. She knew he was teasing, but the mere suggestion of him being with another girl, sent a shot through her heart. He caught her hand as she tried to deliver a second blow and pulled her close.
"Kit, I wouldn't change anything about you. I'm crazy about you just the way you are. My Mom was nine years younger than my Dad, and they were just about the happiest couple I've ever known. Hell, Uncle Ray used to tease him all the time, calling him a cradle-robber. He used to tell my Mom that she had father issues. It was all in fun. So I think we can deal with the measly age difference between us, don't you?"
"Oh David, I promise I'll never lie to you again," she said, hugging him around the neck.
"Sure you will," David said, holding her close. "It just won't be about anything that really matters."
Julia appeared in the doorway. "Kit, the reporter from the Times is here."
Kit was almost grateful for her moment of truth with David. Somehow he had calmed her down and made her forget all about her nervousness over the interview. She easily answered the reporter's questions with poise and grace. When the reporter finished, the photographer for the Times snapped a few shots to go with the article. It was over, almost before she knew it.
Chapter 23 – Vendetta
"What's he doing here?" Jorge Vargas asked his wife.
"I told Manny he could come," Maria said. "I'm his mother. Did you think that I could turn him away?"
"I came to see my mother, and Caesar," Manuel said.
"I told you that you weren't welcome here," Jorge said.
"I have a right to be here," Manuel said.
"You're the reason your brother was nearly killed," Jorge said. "He wanted to be like you; he looked up to you. You and your easy money; spreading your poison on the streets." Manuel looked at his father; surprise showed in his face. "Yes, I know how you make your money, with drugs and thievery. I haven't said anything before because I didn't want to break your mother's heart. I think she should know that you aren't the angel she imagines."
Manuel turned to see the shocked expression in his mother's eyes, then glanced back at his father with a menacing sneer. He looked around at his mother in time to see her face go ashen as the color drained from her features.
"Is... is that true Manny?" Maria said, her voice cracked with emotion.
Maria searched her son's eyes for some sign of denial. When none came, she slumped into a chair and buried her face in her hands. "Oh Manny," she said with a groaning sigh.
"I'm not the reason," Manuel said, angry and defensive, "It was that girl. She's the one that did this to Caesar, not me."
Caesar was sitting at the table eating his cereal, slowly rocking, a dull look in his eyes. He was oblivious to the venomous words of his father and brother. Manuel took Caesar's head in his hands and roughly turned it toward his father.
"Look at him," Manuel shouted. "Look at him, I said. He was once proud. Now he sits in his own piss and shit."
"Do you think that I don't know the truth. I know what happened. Caesar attacked her first. She was just defending herself. All because of two boys he barely knew. With your influence, I have no doubt that he would have killed her if she hadn't fought back." Jorge said.
"You defend her, after what she did to Caesar?" Manuel said.
"Defend her?" Jorge raged. "It doesn't sound like she needs any defending. She is 'mucha mujer', much woman for one so young.”
"She just got lucky," Manuel said, "Next time it will be different."
Jorge sighed deeply and slowly shook his head. His eyes had a pained look.
"Manny, forget about her. If you make this a personal vendetta, it can only end badly. Come back and work for me. It's honest work and there's no shame in that." Jorge said.
"So I can be like you, bust my ass every day for scraps? No way, old man, I'll get what I want, because I have the balls to take it. And I won't let you, or anyone else, stand in my way; least of all, some girl."
"Stop it, both of you. It isn't it bad enough that I have to take care of Caesar, like some baby, that I have you two at each other's throats," Maria shouted angrily, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Manuel walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. He walked the distance to the bar and entered its darkened interior. It took a minute for his eyes to get accustomed to the lack of light. He sat at a table and ordered a beer. One of his men, Lupe, approached and set a newspaper in front of him.
"What's this," Manuel asked.
"It's a story about the girl; the one who beat Caesar."
Manuel picked up the paper and read the article about Kit and about the upcoming exhibition of her work. He looked at her picture as his anger grew. He reac
hed into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He unfolded it cleanly and repeatedly stabbed Kit's image in the face. The force of each stab buried the blade so deep in the table, that he struggled to free it from the wooden surface.
"So life is just great for her?" Manuel fumed. "She'll probably sell a lot of her paintings and make lots of money, while Caesar..." his voice faded."
"Have you found those two boys yet?" Manuel asked.
"You mean, James and Javier?" Lupe replied.
"Who the fuck do you think I mean? Of course, James and Javier," Manuel said, shouting, his face thrust scant inches from Lupe's.
"No Manuel. We have looked everywhere but they just disappeared. Maybe they left town."
"No, they're still here, hiding out. I can feel it. Put the word out on the street. Offer five grand. Someone knows where they are. I want them found and brought to me, and I want them alive. You got that!"
"Yes Manuel," Lupe said, dutifully, just before Manuel ripped the newspaper in half.
"The next thing I want to read in the paper about that bitch, is her funeral announcement."
The next-day Kit got a phone call from Lizzie. Lizzie asked if they could get together to talk. They decided to meet at the park. When Kit arrived, she found Lizzie accompanied by Alicia, Gwen, and several of her other friends.
"Okay, I know I haven't hung out with you guys lately, and I'm sorry. I've just been busy with the painting, and yes, I admit it, with David too," Kit said, apologizing.
"That's not why we're here," Alicia said.
"Yeah," Lizzie added, "looks like the Caesar thing is far from over. After Javier and James botched trying to kill you, they're hiding from Manuel. He's put out a reward for them. He has also made it clear that he is still blaming you for what happened to his brother. The word on the street is that he's determined to see you dead."
Kit took in their words without much expression on her face. She had wondered if it was over. Now she had her answer. It had been in the back of her mind that perhaps there would still be some form of payback to contend with. Her friends waited, silent, while she pondered the situation.
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