Blocked

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Blocked Page 29

by Jennifer Lane


  A knock on the door interrupted me. I pushed back from Dane but he clutched me to his body. “It’s okay.” He nodded. “Come in!”

  Please, don’t be Frank. I exhaled when I saw Allison in the doorway.

  “Guess who’s on his way from the airport?” she asked.

  “Adolf,” Dane moaned.

  This time he let me scramble off of him. I scooped my hair up as I hunted for my shoes on the floor. “When’s he getting here?”

  “Two minutes.”

  Where was my other darn shoe? As my eyes scanned the floor, I dug in the pocket of my hoodie for a hair band while my other held my hair aloft. Was my room clean? Would Dad make me move out tonight? “I can’t find my shoe!” My heart pounded, and I felt close to tears.

  “Hey.” Dane extracted my hand from my pocket and nudged me to let my hair fall before he clasped my hands in his. “Breathe.”

  I nodded and tried to calm down.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  “What if he makes us break up?” My voice was shrill.

  “We talked about this. We won’t let that happen right?”

  I gazed into his deep, blue eyes. “Right.”

  “He told me he needed some time to think. So I guess he’s done with that now. Whatever he tells you, it’ll be good to know what he’s thinking.”

  I took a deep breath. Dane was right. And truthfully, I wanted to see my dad. It was pretty awesome he was visiting me right before the biggest night of his life.

  “Now, first step.” He grinned as he kneeled down to slide on my wayward shoe, then stood and spun my body to face the door. “Get the hell out of my bedroom.”

  I laughed as I jogged out the door and headed for the foyer. It felt so good to laugh. His sense of humor was one thing of many I loved about Dane. As I passed by the TV room, I noticed Brad tidying up the oversize pillows on the sofa. Allison and China waited for me by the video monitors.

  “Do you think we should set out drinks for the governor?” asked Allison.

  “Yeah, get him some booze,” Dane said as he swooped in. “He’ll love that.” He’d exchanged his sweatpants for khakis and had pulled a royal blue sweater over his long-sleeve T-shirt. I loved how that sweater matched his eyes.

  I glanced down at my typical post-practice uniform of T-shirt, hoodie, and yoga pants and wondered if I should have changed clothes too. I was about to bolt back to my room when Dane clasped my wrist.

  “You look fine. Your dad will like you wearing the shirt he got you.”

  I unzipped my hoodie another inch so the T-shirt saying was visible:

  I spiked your dink

  China scrunched her nose. “What’s a dink?”

  “It’s a tiny tap of the ball over the net,” Dane explained. “The defense expects a big hit, but you trick ’em with a dink. Unless they spike it straight back at you.”

  “Volleyball humor,” China scoffed.

  I tensed as Frank and Brad swept into the hallway. “They’re almost here,” Frank said. He glanced at me, but I kept up my silent treatment, so he disarmed the alarm and stepped outside to wait for my dad’s convoy.

  Dane’s elbow tapped mine. “Frank was only doing what your dad asked.”

  “So you think Frank was right to tell him about us?”

  “No. I think he should’ve butted out.” He gestured to the five of us standing there with expectant, nervous energy. “But then we wouldn’t have fun times like this.”

  “Yeah, good times,” I said, and the front door opened.

  There were no fewer than four Secret Service agents with my dad. And I was betting there were more back in the vehicles now in our driveway.

  “What a great house,” my dad said as his tired eyes took in his surroundings, and then me. “Mija.”

  I stepped forward, and he gathered me in a hug. “Thanks for visiting, Dad.”

  He let me go. “I wanted to check out the famous greenhouse for myself. And, I have a belated birthday gift for you. I meant to give it to you after the debate, but…” He looked at Dane.

  But the Dane bombshell blew that night to hell.

  One of his agents handed me a box with a bow, which I untied to reveal a volleyball T-shirt. If you wanted a soft serve, you should’ve gone to Dairy Queen, I read. “Thanks, Dad.” I smiled and gave him another hug.

  “Want a drink?” I gestured behind me.

  “How ’bout a beer?” Dad asked Dane. “You can set me up with a quality brew, right, Dane? You love beer, as I recall.”

  I glanced at Dane, who rolled his eyes, but he did sport a hint of a smile.

  “There’s no alcohol in the house, sir,” Brad said. “Not with minors on the premises.”

  Dad grinned. “Just kidding. Why don’t you show me around, Lucy?”

  We left Dane and the agents in the kitchen as I showed him the rest of the house. The tour ended in my bedroom. “Let’s talk, mija.”

  I nodded—I’d expected this talk was the purpose of his trip—and shut the door. He sat in my desk chair while I reclined on my bed with my back against the wall. Dane’s wall.

  “What’re the latest numbers, Dad?”

  “It’s a barnburner. The closest election since Bush-Gore in two thousand.” He shuddered. “I hope this election doesn’t last for weeks, like that one did.” He loosened his tie as he looked at me. “So, I thought about things, and it doesn’t make sense to move you out of here before the election.”

  Phew. At least two more days with Dane.

  “If we lose, I don’t know if you’ll need protection after that, so we’ll have a bigger selection of places.”

  I winced. “I might still have agents if we lose?”

  “Maybe. They’ll have to analyze the security parameters. They’re investigating some racist threats.”

  My stomach twisted. “Racist threats?”

  “Some people don’t like the idea of a Mexican American president.” He shrugged. “Comes with the territory—forging a new path isn’t easy.”

  I gulped.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “When were you going to tell me about your match on election night?”

  “Oh. I…I was trying to decide where I’ll be first.”

  “Decide? Of course you’ll be here, with your team. You made a commitment.”

  “But I have a commitment to my family, too.”

  “We know that. You demonstrate your love for us all the time, sweetheart. You babysat Mateo when we traveled to Alejandro’s baseball games. You play referee between your brothers. You helped your mother with the cooking. You…” He looked away and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. When he looked back at me, his eyes shone. “You starved yourself as a sacrifice for the family.”

  I’d never seen my dad anywhere close to crying, and my nose burned with impending tears. “What do you mean?” My voice shook.

  “Your collapse at practice—God, that terrified me. I’ve done some reading about eating disorders, and I don’t want to oversimplify things, but when I read about individuals who take care of others so much that they neglect caring for themselves…” He exhaled. “That’s you, Lucia.”

  It was like two months of stress bubbled up and over when he said that. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and he reached out to wipe under my eye. “My sweet girl. How’re you doing? Your mother tells me you’re seeing a psychologist and a dietitian?”

  I nodded. “I’m getting better. They’re helping me…I think you’d like them.” I sniffed.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”

  I smiled through my tears. “You’ve been kind of busy. How in the world are you here tonight?”

  “How in the world haven’t I been here before?” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen you play one game as a Cougar.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” I swiped at my cheek. Get it together.

  “I will be there, for every postseason match after election night, hopefully all the way
to the NCAA finals. Okay?”

  I nodded.

  “So here’s what I need to know.” His mouth tightened, and I braced myself. “I’ve spoken to your mother extensively about this thing with Dane. You said you’re recovering from the eating disorder. Is that with Dane’s support, or in spite of him? Does being with Dane make you stronger or weaker?”

  “Stronger, Dad!”

  He frowned as he patted his thigh. “You’ve always been honest with me. Think about this for a second. This is important.”

  I counted a few of my breaths. “Okay,” I admitted, “at first Dane was kind of…angry about Republican beliefs.” Angry was probably an understatement. I remembered Dane’s enticing smirk as he insulted my dad, and my cheeks flamed. “I’ve sort of had a crush on him for a while—”

  “You have?” His eyes seemed to flicker with amusement. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I wasn’t about to tell you guys I had a thing for your opponent’s son.”

  He nodded. “Good point.”

  “But he…he seemed to hate me, and he said some mean things…”

  My dad’s eyes narrowed, and he looked toward my bedroom door. I looked down to see his feet jiggling, like he was about to go find Dane and kill him. I rushed ahead with a twinge of desperation in my voice.

  “And I thought I wasn’t pretty enough for him, and then Coach told me to lose weight…” I stopped babbling when Dad stared at me with wide eyes.

  “How could you believe you’re not pretty? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” He pointed at the door. “Dane thinks you’re brillante! He called you espléndida .”

  “He did?” Warmth zinged up my spine, filling my body with buzzing joy. I realized I grinned like an idiot.

  Dad watched me for a few moments before he chuckled. “This isn’t just a crush anymore, is it?”

  I chewed the inside of my mouth as I shook my head. “Sorry.”

  “Well, at least he’s better looking than that idiot James Carville.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Dad, Dane really does support me…he helps me with my meal plan, and he helps me with my panic attacks. Dr. Valentine said I have high anxiety.”

  “You don’t need to be a psychologist to know that, my little worry bug. You probably get that from your mother.”

  “Right.” I shrugged. “But you know how Dane helps me the most? He makes me excited to wake up every morning. It’s been tough here some days, but he makes everything brighter.”

  Dad gazed at me for a few moments, then gave me an earnest smile. “Mija’s growing up. My baby girl’s turning into a strong, magnífica woman.” He took my hands in his. “And I couldn’t be prouder.”

  Chapter 26

  “DON’T YOU LOOK HANDSOME,” China purred as we drove past the throng of reporters outside the greenhouse.

  I glanced down at the navy blue suit Mom had ordered for me. “It’s not every day your mother gets elected president.”

  “Feeling confident, huh?” China winked from the seat next to me.

  I studied her form-fitting, sequined evening gown. “Where exactly do you hide a gun in there?”

  She smirked. “A place only Allie can find.”

  “TMI,” Brad groaned from the driver seat.

  “I hear ya, brother.” I reached forward to tap my fist on his shoulder. My jacket sleeve hiked up to reveal my watch, and I noticed the time. Lucia was warming up for her match by now, and I wished I could be there with her.

  “So…” China’s smirk faded. “This might be our last night together.”

  They’d told me if my mom won, I’d likely get another security detail. If she lost, I might not have any protection at all.

  I watched Brad bite his fist. “I’m getting verklempt up here…crying so hard I can’t see the road.”

  I laughed and smacked the back of his head, then turned to China. We stared at each other for a minute or so before I offered, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ll miss you guys.”

  “You’ve been a challenging protectee, Mr. Monroe,” China said with a stern voice. Then her face softened. “The best kind.”

  Twenty minutes later, we entered through the back hallway of a swanky downtown hotel. Attending a university in the capital of my mother’s home state made it easy to hop over to the victory bash—and easy to slink away if it turned into Loserville with my mother conceding the election to President-elect Ramirez. Adolf as president would be so weird. I’d never considered the possibility, but since the pollsters still couldn’t predict the outcome of an election wrapping up this very evening, I had to entertain the idea of a Republican win.

  I heard the party halfway down the hall, and by the time we entered the ballroom, hip-hop music blasted my ears. A voice boomed, “Welcome to Senator Monroe’s son, Dane!” I peered through the darkness, illuminated only by blue lights and a massive TV screen in one corner, to find Steve on the spotlighted stage, a microphone in his hand. Shouts and cheers rang out, and lighted TV cameras swiveled my direction. Brad maintained his hold on my elbow as he scanned the throngs of people, his face a mask of stone.

  “Your family’s this way,” China shouted in my ear, and we made a Secret Service sandwich as we weaved through the crowd. Though it was early evening, most of the guests already held beer bottles and wine glasses. I knew everyone had entered the party through a metal detector, with their belongings searched, but I still felt nervous.

  “Dane!” My sister waved at me when we reached a side room off the ballroom. I let out a breath in the quieter, calmer space. Jessica wore a light blue dress that came to her knees, and with her curly hair swept up into a bow, I swore she looked like a princess.

  “Hermanita.” I gathered her into a hug. “How was the flight from DC?”

  “Fine. My coach is mad I’m missing practice.”

  “He’ll get over it. This is a big night for the Monroe family.” I looked up to see my dad approach.

  He paused when he reached us. “A hug for your old man?”

  What the hell—I was feeling generous. When I stepped into his arms, I could smell booze. So he’d started early too. With the tension of impending election results in the air, I wouldn’t mind a drink myself. Once Dad let me go, he hugged Jessica and kept her by his side.

  Jessica asked, “Did Lucia decide to go to Texas or play her game?”

  I silently cursed as I watched the question on my dad’s face. “Lucia?” He nodded. “Oh, the Ramirez girl. You’re living with her.”

  “Dane and Lucia—”

  I cut Jessica short with a glare. If Dad didn’t care to show interest in my life, I refused to share it with him.

  “What were you saying, Jessie?” Dad asked.

  “Dane’s glad Lucia will be moving out soon,” I supplied as I watched my sister to make sure she didn’t open her mouth. Time for redirection. “So, Dad, how’s the painting coming along?”

  “Exquisitely. I’d love to show you my latest piece, if that’s okay.” He extracted his phone from his pocket, scrolled through photos, and handed it to me before obtaining my permission. Shades of red blasted off the screen, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the photographed canvas.

  “What do you think?”

  I glanced up to find my dad sporting an easy smile, but his fidgeting hands belied his nervousness about my appraisal. Huh. I’d never thought he cared about my opinion. I looked back down. The painting had movement and vitality, visible even in a photo, and the undulating crimson waves made me think of geysers of lava. “It looks…pissed off.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” He shrugged. “I just painted what I felt. My agent thinks it’s my best work in years.”

  “It’s a powerful work,” I admitted. “Quite evocative.”

  “Let me see.” Jessica reached for the phone.

  Dad’s eyes held mine for a moment, and it felt like he was paying attention to me for the first time in years. He seemed weary
, sort of sad. He cupped my shoulder. “How’s school going?”

  I didn’t know how to respond at first. “Fine.”

  “Sophomore year.” He smiled. “That was a big party year for me in college. In fact, why’re you empty handed? It’s a celebration—let’s get you a drink.”

  Before I could protest, he’d disappeared to the main ballroom, undoubtedly headed for the cash bar. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my dress pants.

  “I have to say I don’t get this painting,” Jessica said as she looked up from Dad’s phone. Her cheeks pinked.

  I chuckled as I took the phone. “I think that’s a good thing. It means you haven’t been to hell and back, like some of us.” Just then Dad’s phone vibrated, and I held my breath. Should I read the text? I looked around the room, but the agents chatted or guarded the doors, not really paying attention to me. I couldn’t help myself:

  Self-absorbed prick. I can’t BELIEVE you’re with her.

  I gasped—that had to be Dad’s mistress.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica grabbed for the phone, but I yanked it out of her reach.

  “Nothing.” My stomach twisted with revulsion. It was her. Fucking floozy ho-bag. But she was furious with my dad? Did that mean my parents’ marriage still had a chance?

  I froze when my mother entered the room, trailed by Steve. She made a beeline for us. After she hugged my sister, she turned to me and cocked her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Maybe a ghost of affairs past. I gulped as I slipped his phone into my pocket. “Nah, I’m cool.” I forced a smile. “I’m just stoked for your big win!”

  She blinked at me for a moment, her psychologist brain seeming to work overtime, but then she shook her head. “Steve says Florida’s going to Ramirez.” She gestured over her shoulder, and I saw Steve about twenty feet away, scowling at a piece of paper in his hands. “So it’s not over yet.”

  “But you expected the Latino vote would swing to them, right?”

  “Florida was still up in the air, though. It’ll be tight. But thank you both for being here.” She reached out for me, and I held on to her for an extra-long hug. She’d been through so much.

 

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