Delivering His Heir

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Delivering His Heir Page 72

by Jesse Jordan


  I consider it, I haven't been to Mass since getting back, and considering how things are going with Andrea, maybe I can use a little divine luck or at least reassurance. “I think so, Mama. Good night.”

  Mama goes back to her room while I go to my bedroom, taking off my clothes and lying down on my bed. As I do, I listen and realize I've got a problem on my hands. Lying in bed in my boxers, I can hear Maria snoring lightly, and the toilet flushing as Mama finishes brushing her teeth and washing her face before bed. My house, my home is filled with people, and one of them is four years old.

  This is no place to bring a woman to do things with. I want to go a lot farther with Andrea than what we did in the car. Even making out with her in the driveway honestly felt a little bit weird. What if Mama had seen me touch Andrea's breast? What if she'd seen the expression on my face when Andrea had cupped my cock?

  But my God, it felt so right and good to touch Andrea that way. It felt different than any other woman I've ever been with. Before Andrea, it wasn't a problem. Whether it was backstage in dressing rooms or hotel rooms that I had on the road, there was a way to find a space to have sex. A lot of those road girls, they kind of expected it, the fumbling with the room key, the unfamiliar squeak of the springs as we banged, with a bathroom just a few feet away to do the post-sex wash up and scrub down.

  I don't want that with Andrea. I want to do more. I want to... I want to wake up and make her pancakes or help her wash her hair. All that glorious golden hair that hangs in such cute wavy curls down to her shoulder blades. I want to make love with her.

  Wait, did I just think that? Did I really just think that I didn't want to bang, or fuck, or have sex with Andrea, but actually make love? Jesus Christo, I am really starting to fall for this girl and quickly. Especially since just thinking those words has me grinning foolishly.

  I wonder what the band would say? Cora would probably giggle and give me a high-five and a hug. Rocky'd be cool, he's always had my back. Ian, too, although I think Ian would most likely have something wiseass to say about it. I haven't told Ian yet, I probably should do that this week. I don't want him to be the last guy to know about this, he gets grumpy when he finds out last. At least I know part of why he's so grumpy, he's got sleep apnea that's pretty bad. I should check in with him to see if he's getting treatment for it, I don't want to get the crap scared out of me again like I did in Tallahassee when I walked into the dressing room and he wasn't breathing for like ten seconds.

  Hmm, sleepy.... I guess it has been a long nigh.....

  Andrea

  Nervous much?

  Of course, I'm nervous, I'm waiting outside my building ten minutes early in order to meet Joey, and he's taking me to meet his family. He's been the man of the house since he was ten. And he’s warned me his family can be a little intense. Which means I need to be ready for a ton of questions from them, or maybe them being a little protective of him.

  And let's face it, he's Puerto Rican, and from what I can tell, Roman Catholic. While me being white has never been a problem with him, I've heard too many bad stories about when people cross racial lines, especially from protective mothers. And I'm not Catholic, I'm a lapsed whatever. I know if Joey was asking to come to dinner at Dad's house, I'd be just as nervous. Actually, I'd be more nervous, mainly because I don't think Joey would get a warm reception at the Coates estate.

  I see Joey out on the street, waving to me even as he makes the turn into the parking lot. I hop into the passenger seat and lean over, giving him a quick kiss that just as rapidly deepens. “Mmm... I've missed that all week.”

  “You have no idea,” Joey replies happily, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back towards the freeway. “It's been a good week, though. Not only did we wrap up the personal stuff I wanted to work on, but Cora thinks some of it is so good, she asked Ian to come in next week to do some back drums for it, maybe to be on the next album. Oh, just to let you know... everyone thinks it's great that we're seeing each other.”

  “Really?” I ask, somewhat surprised. “I did a little digging myself. After the rumored problems Rocky had with Martha Mellors and what she was feeding the tabloids, I thought they'd be more worried.”

  Joey shakes his head, signaling to get over onto the I-5. “No way. Rocky and Cora already asked me when I'm bringing you by their place, and Ian... well, Ian's his own type of guy, but he's cool with it. I'll tell you about it on the way.”

  We make the drive to Thousand Oaks, and I think about how strange and wonderful this feels. I've never dated someone with such a large gap in our living distances, it takes almost an hour with street traffic each way, but the time gives us just a chance to relax, to catch up on the two days since the last time we talked on the phone. It's been a refreshing time too because while I've wanted to talk with Joey every day, it's allowed me to gain some perspective on just what is going on in my life.

  “I saw the Sunday paper,” Joey says about halfway there. “Maria went out and bought two copies to trim them and have them laminated for the kitchen. She just might ask you for an autograph.”

  We’re just getting off the freeway when suddenly, I smack my forehead. “Oh, shit!”

  “What?” Joey asks, concerned. “What is it?”

  “I uh... I forgot to bring my gift,” I reply lamely. “After everything you guys made, I thought I'd return the favor, so I tried my best to make some potato salad, and then I got a call from my Dad, and I just forgot it. It's still sitting on my counter. I know it wasn't much, but if you guys are going to the trouble of having a barbecue, I thought I could do something.”

  Joey nods, then turns right at the next intersection, grinning. “There's a supermarket up ahead, a Trader Joe's. Let's go in, get some stuff from the deli and a six pack of organic root beer. That's Angel's favorite, and blame the traffic on the freeway.”

  I laugh, both at Joey's intense consideration and his inventiveness. We end up getting exactly what I'd originally planned, potato salad along with a six pack of root beer to share with Joey's family. When we pull up, Joey gives me a wink and a kiss on the cheek. “Just be yourself, Andrea. That's pretty damn impressive, in my opinion.”

  Joey leads me towards the front door of the wide, L-wing ranch style home, but before we can even get from the driveway to the door, the screen slams open and a little boy comes running out, a huge grin on his face until he sees me, stopping in shock. Joey steps forward and sweeps him up into his arms, giving him a hug. “Hey buddy, I wasn't gone that long!”

  “Mommy got the charcoal going, and Gramma had me help with the chicken! Is this your girlfriend?” the little boy jabbers quickly, glancing over Joey's shoulder at me. “She's pretty!”

  As he looks at me, I'm shocked, seeing his eyes. They're the exact same shade of green as what runs in my family, Dad and I have the same color. It's pretty rare, most green eyes are either brownish green or a dark emerald, not the sort of pale jade that we have. But this little boy does, and as he blinks at me, I feel a disconcerting sense of familiarity with him, even though I've never seen him before in my life. Finally, I clear my throat. “Thank you. Are you Angel?”

  He nods, giving me a goofy grin that charms my heart immediately. “Are you Andrea?”

  “Yes buddy, this is my girlfriend Andrea,” Joey says, my heart fluttering a little at Joey calling me his girlfriend. “Now, you run inside and tell Maria that we're here, okay?”

  Angel runs off, and Joey turns to me, grinning. “That's Angel being Angel. He has a habit of every time I come home, he gives me pretty much a full report on everything he's done since I last saw him. After the tour... that took a while.”

  “I bet. Is everyone in your family so nice?”

  “Let's find out, why don't we?” Joey jokes, leading me to the front door and opening it. My first impression that I get of the Rivera house is that it's fresh, but then I remember that Joey's family just moved in here about a month ago. The decorations are simple and seem small like the family i
s still figuring out just how much size they have, but that they are slowly starting to relax into the new space.

  “Joey, can you help me out?” a voice calls from the kitchen, and Joey leads me over, where I see a small, compact woman with long black hair that has a few streaks of gray standing out in them. She's dressed almost all in black and around her neck is a simple gold crucifix, her only adornment. Still, when she turns to look at us, she's got the same dark, soulful eyes as Joey, and the smile in the middle of her round face is kind, welcoming. “Hello. I'm Teresa Rivera. Welcome to our home.”

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rivera. You have... I haven't seen the rest of the house yet, but you have an amazing son. You must be proud of him.”

  Teresa's eyes twinkle as she looks at Joey, who's starting to blush. “And my son has good taste in girlfriends. Come, help me with some of the last prep here, and we can let Joey go play caveman over the fire for a while. My husband loved barbecues, and men tend to be happier when they get to smell the smoke and play with the fire and the toys.”

  “I'd love that,” I reply, giving Joey a look. “You don't mind, Joey?”

  “Do I mind if my new girlfriend hangs out with Mama?” Joey asks himself, scrunching up his mouth to the side before grinning. “No way, have fun. I'll send Maria in, you can make your hellos then too. Mama, is there anything you want me to put on?”

  Teresa points to a big tray of chicken pieces, most of them sitting in a marinade. “Start with those, I'll have Maria come out with the vegetables when they're ready. Would you like to eat inside or outside?”

  Joey glances at me, and I think. “If the weather stays nice, how about outside? It's only the middle of October. And I'd like to see the rest of your house if there's a chance.”

  “Outside it is then,” Joey says, giving me a heartwarming smile before disappearing. I watch him go, then turn to Teresa, who's giving me a measured, but still warm smile.

  “It's nice that you don't mind Joey still lives with his mother and sister,” Teresa says as she turns back to her counter. “Would you pass me the mayo?”

  “Okay,” I answer, finding it in the refrigerator. “Actually, it impresses me because of why he's doing it. For such a young man, he's more mature than a lot of my co-workers who are ten or twenty years older.”

  Teresa smiles, nodding. “He gets that from his father, he was strong too. There aren't a lot of men like Tomás Rivera in the world any longer, but Joey, he's one of them. You know, when we got word that Tomás was killed overseas, Joey didn't cry once in public? He cried, of course, but never in front of his sister, or in front of me. I'd hear him crying in his room on base, the Corps let us stay in base housing for a few weeks after the funeral while I tried to make arrangements. But Joey never, ever cried in public.”

  “Why?” I ask, curious. “This doesn't have to go in my story if you prefer it doesn’t.”

  Teresa shakes her head, smiling softly. “No, I'd like the whole world to know about Joey, about how strong and amazing my son is. He never cried in public because he knew that Maria and I needed a strong presence in our lives. So, outside of his room, he would be kind and patient with Maria, more than a brother should ever be with a little sister. And when I needed help either with Maria or with anything, he'd just give me that little smile of his and help out, never complaining. There was never, ever a moment he wasn't giving himself to his family. I never asked him to take his paper route, or the after school and weekend jobs. And I never let him see me cry when I'd find him sleeping on the old couch we had, a half-finished piece of homework in front of him because he didn't get started until eleven thirty. I took pride in every C he got on his report card because I knew he was working harder than any of those kids getting A's and B's.”

  “And the music?” I ask, taking out some plates when Teresa points for me. “You didn't have a problem with that? A lot of parents do.”

  Teresa shakes her head, smiling again. “Watching the joy on his face, and seeing him have a chance to become rewarded for all that hard work, there's no way I could be upset with it. Besides, Tomás started him on the guitar. Sometimes, it feels like I am watching my son and my husband talking together when he plays. Yes, the stage makeup, that's a little strange to me. Sometimes I wonder if that's my Joey up on stage. But then he comes home, and he gives us his smile, plays with Angel, and I know that there's nothing bad in the rock world that could change who Joey is at the heart. Of course, he's lucky to have the other band members, and that other girl, Cora. Have you met her?”

  “Not yet, although I've heard a lot about her,” I admit with a little chuckle. “I think Joey's seeing if I pass the family test first.”

  “You're doing fine so far,” Teresa says with a reassuring nod. The door to the kitchen open, and a girl with long, nearly mid back length dramatically intense black hair comes in, and I can see immediately that she's Joey's sister. “Andrea, this is my daughter, Maria.”

  “It's a pleasure. Joey speaks very highly of you.”

  Maria blushes just like her brother, and in the way she moves, I can see the similarities between them. “Only believe half of what you hear. Joey makes me seem like some sort of superwoman.”

  “He's a brother. I don't have one, but I can imagine he just loves you very much. I know he loves Angel.”

  Maria smiles, waving me forward with her hand while shushing me with her other. “You want to see them? Come with me quietly, you can see from the back door.”

  Maria leads me out of the kitchen and into the living room, where through the sliding glass door I can see Angel and Joey, Joey helping Angel as they lay chicken on the grill. “Someday,” Maria says softly, “he's going to make a great father. He already is, really. When I got pregnant, he never blamed me, he never said one hard word. He's loved Angel better than a lot of fathers, honestly.”

  “He loves you both very much,” I reply. “Our first interview he talked a lot about you getting your GED, and the hard work you're doing for getting your business started. He's very proud of you.”

  “Thank you. You handled that section of the story so well. I read it over and over. Thank you for your kind description of me. Joey's always unsure how to handle my being a mother with other people. He... I'll tell you what he won't. Getting pregnant, it wasn't my choice. It was an assault.”

  I stop, taking a deep breath before nodding, not know what to say. Maria studies me for a moment, then takes my hand. “I told you that to let you know what sort of man Joey is. You know a lot of men, a lot of people really, would say they don't blame you, but then act differently. They'd say things like I somehow deserved it, that I brought it on myself for going out late as a fourteen-year-old. But Joey never did any of that. Do you want to know what a real man is? Take a look outside, there's the finest man you'll ever find. In some ways, I'm a little jealous of you.”

  “How?” I ask, and Maria chuckles.

  “Because someday, a woman, maybe you, will capture Joey's heart. And she's going to maybe take him away from me, but for sure I'll have to share him with her. Meanwhile, I don't think there's a man on this planet that is as good as Joey. And I'm greedy in that regard, I want the best.”

  Joey looks up from the grill to see Maria and me, and he waves. We wave back, and Maria lets go of my hand. “Come on, let's help Mama. And enjoy the barbecue.”

  The food itself is delicious, sitting around the back yard in chairs and eating on plastic plates is messy and sometimes hilarious, but as the afternoon goes on, the best part for me is the acceptance by Teresa and Maria. Angel takes a little longer, but after we eat he skips his normal afternoon nap to play soccer with me. Joey joins in. He's a good natural athlete even as he holds back enough to let Angel run and have some fun. “This yard is one of the reasons I chose this place. It's big enough that we can let Angel play and there's plenty of space for the kids once we get the daycare started. We'll be able to stay here for a long time afterward too.”

  “Do you want
to grow bigger than that?” I ask, and Joey stops, thinking.

  “Maybe. I'm going to leave that to Mama and Maria, though. I know that I can't help them out enough to push that. But if they want to grow to that size, to have their own business-only place, I'll be there to help them.”

  After we play, I try to help Teresa wash up before she and Maria chase me out of the kitchen. “You and Joey go have a good evening together,” Teresa says with a soft smile. She kisses me on the cheek before patting it. “You are a wonderful girl, and you have my one hundred percent seal of approval.”

  “Thank you, Teresa,” I reply, touched. Joey and I leave after exchanging hugs all around, getting in his car and pulling out. “So where to?”

  “I really enjoyed the beach, and I was thinking that it'd be a great way to end the afternoon, watching the sun set on the ocean again,” Joey says. “What did you think of Mama and Maria?”

  I smile, thinking for a moment before answering. “Joey, your life, your family, it's like a hundred and eighty degrees different from mine. About the only similarity we have is that we both have only one parent in our life, although for different reasons.”

  “Have things with your Dad always been this... I don't know, strained?” Joey asks curiously. “I mean, today was good, but I've had tough times with Mama too. Maria filled me in, she overheard a bit of what you and Mama talked about, and she's stretching the truth a bit on her always approving of my music. She never said anything, but you know how you can tell when a parent isn't happy.”

  I nod, chuckling. “No, things weren't always like this between Dad and me. Right after the divorce, he was a good father, or at least it felt that way. He'd drop me off at school, and while he had his assistants pick me up, I got to hang out with him in his office while I did my homework, and he'd do his best to go home with me, to be a real father. Weekends were great, I've been to Disneyland and Magic Mountain so many times I can't even begin to count them.”

 

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