Cristina

by Jake Parent

  “Oh.”

  Cristina wasn’t sure what to make of that answer. There seemed to be some kind of apprehension in Anise’s voice, but it could have just as easily been simple distraction.

  “We’re going to see the sea lions, too,” Cristina added.

  Anise’s face tensed.

  “Lions mamma? Are they scary like on TV?”

  Cristina managed a smile.

  “No, baby. These ones are like doggies who swim in the ocean. They can’t jump all the way up here either.”

  “Oh.”

  Anise returned her attention to the important task of not falling through the gaps.

  The pier was almost as packed with bodies as the beach. Most of the people meandered about, aimless and happy. Some stood staring off into the water. Others took pictures of themselves with the backdrop of the amusement park. Almost everyone seemed relaxed and just glad to be alive on such a spectacular day.

  Cristina wished she could say the same. She was exhausted. And she had the creeping feeling Anise was headed toward a tantrum at any moment.

  Along the length of the pier were numerous shops. Most of them tourist traps selling the same kind of junky merchandise Cristina had seen in the windows near Bula’s.

  Anise came out of her focused, downward gaze when she saw a sign in front of one of the stores. TWO SCOOPS FOR $2. She couldn’t read yet, but it didn’t take a literary genius to recognize the pictures.

  “Ice cream cone! Mamma, can we get one? Please!? Please!? Please!?”

  Anise stopped dead in her tracks.

  Cristina tried unsuccessfully to pull her along by the hand.

  “Please!? Please!? Please!?”

  “Maybe later, after we have lunch.”

  The tears were almost instant. A puffy bottom lip and red face, too.

  Cristina was finding it hard to stay patient. People were staring. Some with disapproving looks on their faces, judging the young, brown-skinned mom with the tattoos.

  “Anise Rodriguez,” she said, tugging her daughter’s arm a bit more forcefully, without any movement. “You better get moving right now, or we won’t get any ice cream at all. And we can just go back home instead.”

  Anise rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. Peeking through the tears, she saw that the sincerity in her mother’s voice matched the look on her face. Reluctantly, Anise stumbled forward, continuing to whimper, albeit at a lower decibel level than before.

  She was no longer worried about the gaps.

  They passed a group of fisherman. Older Mexican men, whose calm-looking faces reminded Cristina of Tío Alberto. She could smell the stink of chopped bait, as well as the faint, brassy scent leftover from the beers some of them had for breakfast.

  One of the men turned to smile at her. She’d just started to politely return the gesture when someone going in the other direction bumped into her. He seemed to be in a hurry and was wearing a trench coat, like a cop in a bad movie. It seemed odd, but Cristina had already become used to seeing weird things and people in Pleasure Point. It was an endearing part of what made the town unique.

  She didn’t like how this particular guy looked at her, though. It wasn’t the kind of impatient glare a person gives someone they just ran into. And he wasn’t checking her out, even though she was wearing only a blue bikini-top and a short white wrap. He seemed to be studying her. For what purpose, she didn’t know. And by the time she thought about confronting him, he’d already vanished into the crowd.

  Before she could think too much about it, they found Casey sitting in front of a place called Arthur’s Fish Shack. Cristina tried to gather herself and put a smile on her face, but the effort felt just short of impossible.

  “Hey ladies!” Casey said, standing as they approached. He curled an eyebrow when he saw that neither of them looked very happy. “Everything, OK?”

  “Hey,” she said with a polite hug. “Yes, everything’s OK. This little one just wanted to eat ice cream before lunch. And big, mean mommy had to say no.”

  He leaned down so he was at eyelevel with Anise.

  “Hi there.”

  She tucked her head behind her mom’s leg, in part out of shyness, but mostly to hide a sprouting grin.

  He added, “I like Rocky Road, personally. And I’ll buy the scoops after we have lunch, if that’s cool with you.”

  “OK,” Anise answered, revealing part of her face. “Can we look for sand crabs too? I brought my bucket.”

  “You do remember me.”

  “Duh.”

  Cristina felt some of her tired tension and wariness ease as they all shared a platter of fish and chips. She enjoyed watching Casey with Anise. Especially the way they bantered back and forth. By the end of their meal, the two seemed on their way to becoming best buddies.

  After lunch, they went to look at the sea lions.

  “Do they fetch?” Anise asked Casey as he held her up on the railing so she could peer down. “My Aba’s doggy has a squeaky toy, and he brings it back to you when you throw it.”

  “Oh yah,” Casey said. “They sure do. They like fishies though. And little girls.”

  He held her out over the opening. She shrieked and he brought her quickly back. Her lip puffed out but she didn’t cry.

  He said, “Sorry. Sorry. Just kidding. They don’t like kids. Only fishies, OK?”

  “OK. Can we have ice cream now?”

  They both looked at Cristina, her eyes halfway-closed, mind off in the distance.

  “Mamma?”

  “Uh, yah. Ice cream? OK . . .”

  “Yay!” Anise and Casey both said, slapping hands.

  They walked back toward the ice cream shop. Anise’s fear of falling through the boards had completely evaporated. She skipped happily ahead.

  Casey put an arm around Cristina’s shoulders. She didn’t tighten or cringe, but she didn’t exactly make him feel welcome either.

  “You OK?” he asked. “For real, you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

  “No, really. I’m fine. I’m just tired. I barely slept last night.” She made sure Anise was out of earshot. “Her dad, my stupid ex, is dragging me back into court and making me do a drug test.”

  She expected to see Casey cringe, or at least offer a look that said he would rather not hear about it. Instead, his blue eyes sparkled with genuine sympathy.

  He said, “I’m not sure of your situation. I’m guessing you’ll tell me soon. At least, I’m hoping you will. But in your own time, and in your own way.” He stopped, spun her toward him, looked into her eyes. “I only have two things to say about it. One, I’ve got zero doubt that you’re an amazing mom. That little girl loves you, and anyone, be it me, your ex, or any judge, should be able to tell that just by the way she looks at you. Second, I don’t know who this guy is, but the whole thing sounds pretty messed up on his part. He’s not even in her life, is he?”

  “No,” she said, looking away. “And you’re right. I’ll tell you about it. Just not right now. It’s a long story. But yah, he isn’t in her life. For good reasons. Like he’s an abusive, manipulative psycho. But he’s also rich, and he knows how to be dangerous with his money.”

  He lifted her chin up with one finger so their eyes met. “I told you what my experience was with seeing abuse firsthand. If you feel like you’re in danger, there are people who can help.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just—”

  “Just what? There’s no justifiable reason for him to make you feel this way.”

  “I know. But—”

  “No buts, either. You deserve to be treated like the strong, intelligent, capable woman that you are.”

  She again turned from him, wanting to keep her face stern. Strong. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t prevent the corners of her lips from curling into a smile.

  “See,” he said. “Like mother, like daughter. You two are both so beautiful, Cristina. Don’t let him or anyone else make you believe otherwise.”

  He
r eyes drifted back to his.

  She kissed him, gently on the lips.

  It felt wonderful. Safe.

  How could she have thought for even a second that he was any kind of a threat?

  The more distance she put between herself and whatever had happened in her living room the night before, the dumber the whole thing seemed.

  This isn’t a movie, Cristina. This is real life. Look around you. You own (OWN!) a house in one of the most beautiful places in the world. One of the nicest and sexiest guys on the planet is obviously gaga over you. Your daughter is in perfect health, and so are you. You’ve got everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

  There were a lot of people in 12-step meetings who talked about self-sabotage, and it had always been one of the concepts Cristina most related to. She’d also been given plenty of opportunities in life to learn that happiness wasn’t some far-off destination. It was something right there in front of her. Always had been, and always would be.

  She decided to accept whatever craziness might be going on in her life – be it her ex, her haunted dreams, or whatever else might come. Otherwise, she was going to miss out on what she’d already been blessed with.

  Holding hands, Casey and Cristina caught up with Anise, who’d come to a stop in front of a man making animal balloons. He was already in the process of twisting one into shape for her. An octopus.

  When the balloon-man was done, he handed over his creation. Anise beamed with joy, holding it close as Casey slipped the guy a couple bucks.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon eating ice cream and playing on the beach. The three of them waded out into the shallows together, holding hands in a circle as they splashed and laughed. Then they caught sand crabs, letting the harmless little creatures wiggle between their fingers before returning them to their burrowing. They even built a sandcastle.

  Besides the fact the beach was crowded with people, the scene could have been the one Cristina dreamed of, down to the barking sea lions echoing in the background.

  31

  Later that night, Cristina and Casey were in her bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his strong, tattooed arms. She lit candles and put on her favorite TLC album, the one she stole from her older cousin years ago and had loved listening to as a boy-crazy preteen.

  The room filled with a song about scrubs.

  Cristina swayed her hips to the smooth beat as she flipped off the light, continuing to rock them back-and-forth on her way toward the bed.

  She stood in front of Casey as he tried to hide his nervousness.

  “What’s the matter,” she teased, pushing him back onto the bed. “Big tough guy like you isn’t scared are you?”

  “Nah.” The grin creeped onto his face as he rested his head in clasped hands.

  Cristina’s stomach buzzed with anticipation.

  She crawled on top of him, legs straddling his body, lips kissing his neck.

  “Anise is OK?” he asked.

  Cristina had put her to bed an hour ago.

  “If she hasn’t gotten up yet, she won’t. One thing about that girl, she can definitely sleep.” She added in a whisper, “Relax.”

  “Alright.”

  “You need to take this off, though,” she said, pulling his Bula’s t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the ground.

  His muscular body felt almost magical as she caressed it with her soft hands. Somehow that glowing strength lightened the fury and terror of some of his darker tattoos. Skulls eating the world, a skeleton riding a motorcycle, a dead-eyed demon choking a beautiful woman caught in a spider’s web.

  She gently traced a finger along the roses on his neck. He did the same to those on her arm.

  Her eyes tightened into seductive slits. She scooted back so she could rub her tongue along the ridges of his chest, and then slowly around the metal bars he had through his nipples.

  Pulling her own shirt off, she threw it aside and undid her bra. Her breasts floated in the air without falling. She pushed them together, softly pinching her own nipples.

  ***

  The sex was amazing, although not quite as crazy as she’d imagined when she was in the bathtub. After all, they had to be somewhat quiet to keep from waking Anise.

  From the moment she reached back and slipped him inside of her, there was a surprising gentleness to it all. An almost nervous desire on both their parts to make it last.

  It was unlike any first time she’d ever experienced. Their two bodies felt made for one another. His cut muscles and her just-thick-enough curves clicked together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces.

  And it wasn’t all gentle.

  There were a few – more than a few – times when she had to bite down on the pillow to keep from screaming. Especially when he took her from behind. That had always been her favorite position, but it didn’t always work right. The guy had to be just the right height. She didn’t know exactly what that ideal measurement was, but Casey was it.

  She came at least five times. Maybe more. She lost count as the intense pulses crashed against one another, like waves on the beach.

  “That was wonderful,” she told him when she crawled back into bed after going to the bathroom and ducking her head into Anise’s room, where she found her daughter sound asleep on her stomach, one leg pulled out from under the covers, snoring ever-so-slightly.

  Casey lay in her bed smiling, looking almost boyish. Cristina thought vulnerability was cute on him, but didn’t say so. Instead, she told him he was amazing. He said she was amazing. In the end, they agreed they were both amazing.

  “You aren’t going to leave are you?” Cristina asked, feeling needy and lame as soon as the words came out.

  “Nope,” he said plainly. “Not unless you want me to.”

  Her only response was to curl up against his bare chest, one leg draped over him, the top of her head nuzzled underneath his chin.

  That night there were no dreams at all.

  32

  Before Cristina knew it, her uncle was driving Aba’s little Ford Taurus up the driveway and buckling Anise into her car seat.

  Casey was already long gone by then. He hadn’t even stayed for breakfast. A big Sunday sale, he said as he snuck out just after dawn.

  Her uncle was tired and they didn’t talk all that much, though he made sure to remind her about Father Antonio’s plans to visit on Thursday. She thanked him for everything and said her goodbyes, feeling an ache in her heart as she kissed Anise.

  Cristina was again left with a lonely house all to herself.

  It was still relatively early in the afternoon. The sun blazed high in the sky. A bank of fog sat just offshore.

  The last thing she wanted was to be alone.

  She walked across the courtyard toward Jack’s place, realizing she hadn’t seen him all week. There was a note taped to his door.

  Gone camping. Hold all calls. –J

  He’d added a smiley face for emphasis, which made Cristina miss his hearty belly-laugh.

  She walked back across the courtyard, watching Mr. Psycho’s place as she did. Still no sign of him.

  Is he dead, or what?

  She was surprised at the bitterness she felt.

  I hope so.

  With a sigh, she sat on the front porch and smoked without enjoying it. Cigarettes were starting to taste worse every day. They hardly even did anything for her anymore.

  Her hands went into her pocket and pulled out her phone. There was a text from Jordan.

  Dinner with myself and Dan at Venus Cafe tonight??

  Yes, she wrote back immediately and went inside to get dressed.

  ***

  With time to kill, Cristina decided to check out the drum circle again. She didn’t really know why. Mostly, she supposed, because she really wanted to be around other human beings.

  Plus, as much as she kind of hated to admit it, she really liked being there the first time. For one, she just loved music. But that wasn’t the only reason. S
he’d also been pleasantly taken in by the overall vibe.

  When she was getting high, her favorite thing in the world – probably the most fun she ever had – was getting trashed and going out dancing. The way the sound moved her body. Touched her soul. Being at the drum circle kind of felt like some mellow version of the same thing.

  There were no open parking spaces along the scenic cliffside road. She ended up pulling the Civic between two cars on a side street. After walking about a block, she realized she’d once again forgotten her sweatshirt and had to go back for it.

  By the time she walked up to the lighthouse park, wispy tendrils of fog were creeping onshore. The more the shroud of mist thickened, the more the sound of the drums seemed to exist in its own little enclosed world.

  Cristina didn’t stand at a distance this time. Instead, she plopped herself down onto the grass, sitting between a white hippy wearing a somewhat ridiculous Rastafarian hat, and a college kid hiding behind dark glasses. The latter shifted nervously when she sat next to him. Even through the glasses, Cristina could see him glancing at her chest.

  Dude, I’m wearing a damn sweatshirt.

  When he saw that she’d noticed, his cheeks turned bright red.

  The rhythm he was tapping out fell apart.

  Eventually, he gave up the effort and leaned toward her, as if working up the will to say something. His nervous energy was thick. Finally, he tilted his well-worn bongos forward and said a few words she couldn’t quite hear over the other noise.

  “Do you play?” she heard him ask when he leaned in further.

  She swiped a hand in the air to say, “who me?”

  He handed her the drums.

  Now it was her turn to blush.

  Unsure of what to do, she tried her best to copy the other people in the circle. At first, her attempts sounded about as random as popcorn in a kettle. But once she settled down and stopped trying, she actually had some fun with it. Poncho Sanchez wouldn’t be asking her to join his All-Star Band anytime soon, but she enjoyed herself, swaying back and forth, weaving her energy together with the rest of the players.

  After about 15 minutes, she decided to quit while she was ahead.