by Brook Wilder
Oscar saw me tremble and put an arm around my shoulder in the same way a big brother would comfort a little sister. “What’s wrong, Little Lamb?”
“I want to smack you whenever you call me that,” I said, “but you’re too big to hit.”
He laughed, and I laughed with him.
He hugged me against his solid chest, and I relaxed into his comforting arms. The strong emotions I felt for him swept over me and I wished he would hold me all night. He reached into his pocket and offered me a mint. I took one and then he popped one into his mouth.
“Sick or not, if Mama smells cigarettes, she’ll smack me and she’s shorter than you.”
Again, I laughed. My head rested on his shoulder and I gently rubbed my forehead on the pressed cotton of his shirt. All the hurt that had been in my body left me as he held onto me. Oscar didn’t say anything. He hugged me as he stared off into the night and pushed the mint around his mouth.
I swallowed hard, but then worked up the courage to rest my other hand on his chest. He looked down at my hand, then watched me with brooding eyes, and I wondered if I had overstepped a boundary. I prayed he wouldn’t push me away. I stared into his deep brown eyes and hoped he didn’t see a pitiful girl gazing back at him. Shutting my eyes, I leaned in a little closer. I could smell mint and cigarette on his breath.
My body tingled being so near him. I wanted him to want me the same way I wanted him.
I opened my eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking behind his sable brown eyes. Oscar stared at me, but his expression had changed. He didn’t look troubled. He looked certain of something.
Testing my theory, I ran a fingertip slowly along his hard jaw, feeling his clean-shaven skin. He inhaled sharply.
“Oh, damn,” he breathed, then he kissed me.
His lips pressed to mine, but then he froze, as if he wasn’t sure he should be doing this. But when I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and pressed my lips hard against his, Oscar pulled me in tighter to him. His tongue parted my lips, and stroked and swirled over mine. One hand trailed down to my waist as the other pressed into my back. My breasts pushed against his chest, and I shivered as I rubbed against him. He groaned some against my mouth and repositioned his hand to rest on my bottom.
It was wrong, but I wanted to touch him. If my father had seen us, what we were doing in the churchyard, he’d have shot Oscar, and I would have been sent away. But my body wanted him as my fingers weaved into his thick hair. I moaned as he kissed my neck, and I wanted to pull his hot, strong body down on top of me.
Without warning, Oscar pushed me away.
I tried to catch my breath as he spoke.
“This is a bad idea, Felicity.”
“I know but I’m glad you’re here.”
Silently, Oscar swiped at his hair to tame it, then he patted his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.
I placed my hand on top of his to stop him from lighting another one. “We could just sit and talk.”
Oscar looked at me like I was silly and then chuckled. “Not by ourselves we can’t.”
“Then you could come inside.”
He arched an eyebrow then really laughed. “Go into that church?”
“You sound like Jane. I’m serious,” I said. “You can help out. It’s the soup kitchen tonight. The mayor is here. My father wouldn’t dare make a scene.”
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he considered it. He put the pack of cigarettes away, stood up and held out his hand. I took his hand and let him help me up. We walked hand in hand just like the first day we met. Reluctantly, I let go of him at the door.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said.
“I would’ve been disappointed if you hadn’t.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I smiled at him.
***
Oscar walked behind me as we entered the basement. I showed him to the table, and we took up our positions behind it. My mother’s eyes quickly found us and she watched like a hawk. I knew she was taking mental notes to report back to my father. I really didn’t care. I was so happy at that moment I’d deal with the consequences later. I offered Oscar an apron, but he shook his head and said ‘that was for the ladies.’ When I introduced him to Jane, she hugged him.
I gave her a curious look and she whispered in my ear that Oscar had helped her get into my house. I scoffed and then gave him a shame-on-you look but I couldn’t keep the amusement off my face.
“And this is Nathan.” I gestured at Nathan but didn’t offer much of an explanation.
“If you want a plate, sir, you have to take it from the other side.” Nathan was being a wise ass, or he had a death wish.
Jane and I gave Nathan dirty looks.
But Oscar took it in stride and replied, “Nice apron. Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen with the other ladies?”
Nathan didn’t even bother to hide his ugly scowl.
“Look,” said Jane “We’re all here to help, so let’s just help.”
Taking it as an invitation, Oscar stepped between me and Nathan, forcing Nathan to step back. Oscar picked up a spoon and carefully placed carrots and peas on the plate of a man who waited. While making eye contact, Oscar spoke to the man in Spanish then motioned to the other dishes. Eyeing the food, the man nodded. Oscar plucked the spoon out of Nathan’s hand and placed mashed potatoes on the man’s outstretched plate with care.
Oscar worked without any complaint and when it was time to clean up, he made sure the older people had plates of food to take with them. He spoke to every person who sought a hot meal with kindness and patience. And it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen people on the other side of the serving table laugh.
“Who is that man?” my mother asked me.
“Oh, he lives in the area, and I met him outside. He asked to help.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth.
My mother looked at Oscar again. He had his back to us, and her eyes moved over his well-built frame. “He’s very helpful,” she observed.
“Yes,” said Jane. “And he’s very handsome.”
My mother gave her a stern look before she spoke to me again. “Did you have a chance to talk to Nathan?”
“I did and I don’t think much of him,” I replied.
“You should give him a chance, Felicity. The mayor’s son is a good catch. You might want to think about having a steady boyfriend.”
“Yes, Felicity,” said Jane. “Sometimes a boyfriend is better than a husband. Don’t you agree, Francine?”
Chapter 9
Oscar
For the past two weeks, I went to the hospital in the mornings to sit with Mama and in the evenings, I kept busy. Marisol offered to help me settle back into my apartment. The woman must have thought I’m dumb. Don’t misunderstand me. She’s hot, and she’s smart, but too smart. Calculating. She’d move into my place one belonging at a time. First, a toothbrush, then a piece of clothing, or a pair of shoes. Then a box of tampons would appear under the sink, and I’d be pussy-whipped.
No thanks.
But my time in prison wasn’t an issue with Marisol. The women in our club expected it of their men. It was part of the job, to go in and continue to work from the inside by making deals, recruiting, or getting rid of the scum. My job was to collect information, and it was easy to do in prison because I could corner a snitch. Prison wouldn’t be an issue with Marisol, but it would be with Felicity.
It was stupid but I wanted to see her again. I kept remembering her walking into the garden because she looked as if she belonged there. Surrounded by flowers, her long hair drifting over her shoulders, her pretty dress flowing around her legs. There was nothing hard about that sweet girl.
I convinced Emilio if he were going to run for office, it would be a good thing to offer charity to the greater community. Sure, we took care of the club and its families, but no one else. If the Cazadores were going to win any elections, we had to show our generosity. Emilio agreed it was a good idea fo
r me to continue going to the soup kitchen and to even start one at our own church, St Lourdes. We replaced the semi-transparent paper plates with sturdy carry out boxes. Our women cooked enchiladas, burritos, rice and peas, along with chicken, collards, and sweet potato pie, all delivered by two new recruits.
More people started coming in and I let them know in Spanish they were eating better because the Cazadores were taking care of them.
***
I had been coming in twice a week for the last two weeks.
Felicity watched me with pride. Whenever I entered the kitchen her face would light up. She smiled at me as if she were truly happy to see me. But if she spoke the language, she would know I rarely gave without taking. I had fought for every dollar I made. I didn’t earn it. Would she be able to understand what I do? What the MC expected of me?
“You’re doing a great job, Oscar.” She looked up like I was a hero in a cape. “It’s a different place when you help out.”
I nodded but didn’t reply.
She had that look in her eyes, but I didn’t mind seeing it. When Marisol gave me that look, I’d tell one of the bros to check her and see if she was wet. They’d laugh, but find a way to disappear with her, and soon after, Marisol would reappear with messy hair and smudged lipstick.
Felicity hardly wore makeup. Freckles covered her cheeks and her cute nose. My breath hitched whenever she stared at me and I looked away. She was a dream just out of reach. I wanted her but I had no time to daydream.
I walked into the kitchen and found Jane slumped on top of a pile of bins. I went to her. “What’s wrong? You hurt?”
“I don’t feel well,” she said. “I felt okay until I sat down.”
Felicity appeared behind me. She looked concerned but not surprised Jane felt ill.
“You want to drive her home?” I asked.
“I’m okay, Fee.” Jane struggled to stand but she slid down and I caught her quick before she could hit the concrete floor.
“You aren’t okay,” said Felicity. “You weren’t okay this morning. I’ll drive you home.”
“I don’t think you can leave, Fee.” Jane winced as she tried to sit up. “It takes two people to put all this stuff away. Just help me into the bathroom. I’ll wait in there.”
Felicity looked at me and sighed. We both knew Jane’s plan was unwise. She needed to be in bed, preferably one a few feet from a toilet.
“Look, let Hector drive you home,” I said. “Armando can follow on his bike. I’ll drive Felicity home after we lock up.”
Before we could agree on a plan, Jane jumped up and ran to the toilet. Felicity followed after her, then stooped next to her so she could rub Jane’s back as she vomited into the bowl.
I wondered if this had anything to do with Luis.
“I’ll have them drive her,” I said holding out my hand. “Give me your keys.”
“Thanks, Oscar.” She pecked me on the cheek. It was a habit in my culture to kiss cheeks as a greeting or for thanks, but I could tell Felicity meant it as something else.
Looking at the piles of dirty pans on every flat surface, Armando asked if he should return. As a prospect, I could make him clean the place while I reclined with my feet up. In our world, it was humiliating for a man to do domestic chores.
“No, don’t come back tonight,” I said.
I didn’t want him to see me help Felicity with the dishes.
***
As the sun dipped behind the mountains in the distance, I went outside to the little courtyard to take a break and watch the sunset. Felicity joined me on the little bench. I left my cigarettes at home so I wouldn’t smoke around her. She took good care of people and I wanted to do the same for her.
“You treat Jane like a sister,” I said.
“Jane is my best friend.” She paused. “I had a sister.”
“I know. When did she die?”
“A year ago. She was shot at a block party.”
I shook my head letting out a low whistle. “No wonder your father freaked out. I’m sorry to hear it. I lost my dad. He was shot, too.”
“I’m sorry. I wondered why you only talk about your mother. My sister was my twin.”
“Fraternal?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Born at the same time, but we were nothing alike.”
“How do you mean?”
“Faith had guts. She wouldn’t back down from a fight. They say she was shot defending a girl who didn’t know it was a Disciples party. They were going to use her.”
She choked on her words and her hands went to her face. Shit like that happened. Some clueless girl wanders in and is forced to be the entertainment. I understood now why she was nervous in my momma’s house and the look of relief that had appeared on her face when she saw a loving family and not a bunch of thugs. I placed an arm around her, and she leaned into me, pressing her face against my shoulder.
She continued. “They raped her before they shot her. My father covered it up. He claimed she’d been hit in the crossfire of a gang shooting. He didn’t want my sister to end up clickbait on a tabloid site. I’m glad he hid it.”
I rocked her body against mine as she cried. After a moment, Felicity pushed herself away from my grasp.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t talk about it because I always cry when I do.”
“It is my fault.” I looked at her in the fading light. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I don’t mind talking about her life.” Felicity held her hands in her lap. “She was my sister. I just miss her. She was the fun one. Do you know she taught me how to steal a car?”
“You, Miss Grand Theft Auto? You’re lying.” I shook my head as I eyed the sweet girl beside me.
“I know how to hotwire a car.” She looked proud.
“And what car did you ever steal?” I asked.
“My dad’s Buick.”
I laughed so hard I had to gasp for breath. “And what did he do?”
“He didn’t find out until his deputy saw us at the drive-thru in our pajamas.
“Not Lopez?”
“No, this was years ago before we had our licenses. Another one...Robinson. He ratted on us. You ever see the cartoons where steam comes out of the character’s ears?”
I nodded.
“I swear Dad looked like that when he yelled at us. You had no idea ‘Little Lamb’ was badass, huh?” She smiled.
I offered her a mint and took one myself. “I’m going to lose my teeth eating these things. I started smoking again in prison. I need to quit.”
She was quiet, but I knew she had something to say. I waited for the other shoe to drop, as the Americano say.
“Why were you in prison?”
“You sure you want to know?”
She looked at her hands as she played with the mint in her mouth. Telling her the truth would make her understand I was not a good choice for a boyfriend or anything else. The ugly reality of my life would repulse her. She couldn’t pretend that part of my life didn’t exist.
I took a deep breath. “I beat a man, almost to death. I’ve killed with my bare hands, but this time, the cops stopped me before I could do it again.”
Felicity went wide-eyed and fell silent, as if she couldn’t match my words to me. The sun had set, and I looked down at the dark ground. I creased my brow into a scowl. She wouldn’t make me feel ashamed.
“Why did you beat him?”
It was crazy to confide in the sheriff’s daughter, but I would. “I’ll tell you once then I don’t want to talk about it again. What we do is a business. It may not be straight, but it pays good money our families need. And when someone does business with us and then they don’t pay, that’s stealing. They might as well come into my momma’s house and take food off her table because that’s what they’ve done.”
For a moment, I stopped to collect myself and tamp down my growing anger. I felt her body lean away from mine, but I had to continue.
“The john
wanted a girl, so a girl was sent to his motel. He had his fun, but he wanted more things he shouldn’t have asked for. He felt entitled because she was a whore. The girl refused so he hit her and kept hitting her until her screams were heard in the hall. When I showed up the girl was hysterical and bloody. She’d curled up tight in the corner of the motel room. He thought it was funny. I showed him with my fist why it was not okay to hit a woman like a punching bag. For every blow he’d given her, I gave him more. He was a broken mess at my feet by the time the cops arrived.”