by S. E. Babin
“Back yard is still a mess,” said Georgette. “We’ll get the fence fixed next week. But the structure here is sound. My contractor brother had it checked for termites and structural problems. It’s good, Hun.” She patted the wall by her.
The house seemed to wink back.
“What the heck?” Araceli repeated. “Did you guys do this?”
The Three Wise Women plus Quito bowed.
“Venus Warriors unite!” Julie said.
“At your servant,” Quito said.
Knock, knock.
They opened the door to the neighbor they’d seen before.
“Hi. I’m Tom. Who’s the new owner?”
Araceli shook his hand. “I’m Rogelio’s niece.”
Tom nodded. “This place looks great. The whole neighborhood thanks you for cleaning it up. We’ve worked really hard the last few years to spiff up this block, and home values have taken off, like two or three times their value of twenty years ago. Thanks for helping us.”
Julie said, “How much did Rogelio charge to rent this house? Do you know?”
Tom thought. “No idea. I do remember him complaining how First Reechinyerpokit Bank had screwed him over, inflating his interest rate.”
They drove back to Orange County, landing at Alice’s house on Christmas Eve.
They ate Dulce Maria’s tamales for dinner. After some spice cookies and egg nog, Georgette went home. But Quito, Araceli, and Julie attended a midnight service with Alice and afterward, fell asleep on Alice’s living room floor in sleeping bags.
In the morning, Georgette returned, bringing her family to join Alice’s family and friends as they loudly exchanged presents and made a big wrapping paper mess around the gaudy Christmas tree.
Amidst this craziness, Quito dropped to his knee before Araceli.
Everybody got quiet.
He said, “Araceli, I love you. I’m your number one Stan, Sis. I ship you, hundo P.” He produced a wrapped box—too large for a ring—and held it out to her. “Will you marry me?”
Araceli’s heart stopped. She fanned herself. “Uh. I …”
The Three Wise Women shouted, “Go for it, girl. He’s no cabrón.”
Julie let out a whoop. “Freaking A! I totally forgot that’s another path to a green card! It seemed too ridiculous to even mention before, but it’s on the list.”
There were quizzical looks around the room.
Julie erupted, “You can just marry a Cuban! Courtesy of the anti-Communist Congress of the 1960s!”
Everybody squealed with relief. Alice got the Christmas champagne from the fridge and popped the cork.
But Araceli frowned. These Three Wise Women had taught her well. In the middle of all the hubbub, she pulled herself up tall like a true Venus Warrior. “Quito. I don’t want to marry you just to get a green card. That’s not right.”
“Oh, come on.” Quito fell to the carpet in a gesture of surrender. “I love you, Miss Awesome Socks! I’m your turkey! Hundo P!”
“I’m sorry.” Araceli held fast, and went home after Christmas brunch. Determined to keep her dignity, she took the big suitcase out from under the bed and finished filling it with her stuff.
9
The next day, Julie came to the Casabuena home and knocked.
Araceli, holding the handle of a large suitcase, opened the front door.
“Araceli, listen! Listen!” Julie played a voice message on her phone for Araceli.
“Hi, Julie. Henry from Shiny Zone here. I’m so sorry. It seems one of our staff somehow figured out Araceli was illegal. Rather than talk to me, she went to Araceli’s other boss at Richandowe’s, and together they hatched a plan to get free cleaning services from her. I suspect they were going to ramp it up and get money as well. We didn’t know about this until you told us. Now we’ve fired her. I’m off for vacation, but please tell Araceli that to make amends for this obvious harassment, our company will be glad to sponsor her for a green card. We’re already inundated by unhappy customers missing her housecleaning services. She’s literally our best worker. We need her.”
Araceli’s mouth formed a giant O. She dropped the handle of the suitcase.
Julie let out a shriek. “Isn’t that great?”
“Are you staying?” Dulce Maria came to the door, and all three of them danced around the front yard.
Then Araceli suddenly stopped. “No. I can’t do it. Sorry.”
The other women slumped in defeat. “Really, Araceli? Why not?”
* * *
Alice and Georgette joined them for lunch at a local café, where everyone tried to persuade Araceli to take one of her green card offers.
“Please, Araceli?” Alice pleaded. “Shiny Zone’s offer is wonderful! What’s gonna happen if you don’t take it?”
Araceli put her fork down and sat up straight. “Julie. Alice. Georgette. You’ve all been so wonderful to me. You’ve taught me to stand up for myself, to be a Venus Warrior. But this warrior has been cleaning houses for a long time. If I let Shiny Zone sponsor me, I have to clean more and more houses, maybe forever.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to.”
“I see your point, Hun.” Georgette patted Araceli’s hand. “So marry the boy and make him your slave. It worked for me.”
“Where’s my slave?” Julie mumbled. She snagged a newspaper from the next table in the café. “Hey. Says here, the President has a plan for foreigners to get immigration parole status as an entrepreneur, if they can invest at least $345,000 in a company that would grow rapidly and create at least ten American jobs in a low-income area.”
Araceli sighed. “Well, I owe everybody a lot of money, so forget that.”
Shaking their heads, the Three Wise Women took her to First Reechinyerpokit Bank, where Araceli found out she owed almost $100,000 on the little house in L.A.
Georgette said, “Wow. Awesome.”
“What’s awesome?” Araceli said, heart sinking. “$100,000? I owe that?” She wanted to cry.
Georgette grinned. “Hun, listen. Our realtor says you can sell the house for $450,000 and pay the old mortgage off with that. You’ll come out $350,000 ahead.”
The other women whooped, scaring the other bank customers.
“What?!? Oh! Wow!” Light dawned, and Araceli jumped for joy, making the bank teller smile.
The women trooped outside, where the sun was suddenly brighter, the day full of possibilities.
A thought struck Alice. “Araceli. Doesn’t this mean you can be an entrepreneur now, under the President’s new plan, and get immigration parole status?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” shouted Araceli.
There was a group hug.
Araceli thought, Uncle Rogelio. You old buzzard. Was this really a tax shelter for you, or maybe a provision for my future? Who knows? But I’ll take it. Gracias, you old cabrón.
She said aloud, “And now I can marry Quito! Because I don’t need to.”
10
At their wedding brunch on January 6th, Araceli and Quito told Dulce Maria, Enrique, the Three Wise Women, and their families of their plans to sell the L.A. house and start a dress-making business, probably in Irwindale or Compton. The Santa Ana storefront would come later.
“Cheers to the happy couple!” Julie saluted with her champagne. “And cheers to Araceli! Last month, she had no way to become legal.”
“Right.” Araceli said, smoothing down her long, white lace dress, a gift from her three wise friends.
Alice raised her glass. “But now, a company is willing to sponsor her …”
Georgette raised hers. “A Cuban guy married her …”
Everyone cheered.
Quito raised his glass. “And she’s gonna be an entertainer.”
“Entrepreneur. Yes.” Araceli nodded at Julie, Alice, and Georgette. “With the help of my Three Wise Women, I could be legal three different ways!”
Quito planted a kiss on her. “What the feck! It’s like magic. Alabaster!”
“Alakazam!” she laughed.
/>
Quito remembered something. “Wait. Araceli, you never opened your Christmas present. The box I presented to you on Christmas Day.” He produced it.
Frowning, she tore the paper on the fancy, gold-wrapped box. It held two sparkly, purple, blown-glass peacock ornaments from Richandowe’s, complete with feathered tail fans. Smiling, she stood and slipped their tiny earring hooks into her ears, then danced around the table in her lovely lace dress, stopping in front of Quito. “Is this legal entrepreneur pretty now, Turkey Man?”
“Yes,” Quito cried, pulling her onto his lap. “Always, Miss Awesome Socks. You know I ship you, hundo P.”
“Quito. What is ‘hundo P’?” the Three Wise Women said in unison.
“Hundred percent!” Quito squeezed his bride, and everyone whooped with glee.
About the Author
Amy Gettinger lives in Orange County, California with her husband and her two piteous poodles under the shade of a very noisy old eucalyptus windrow full of crows and wild parrots. When she's not writing novels or short stories, she's creating Reader's Theater plays and coaching a local senior group to perform them, complete with big bad wolf hats, feather boas and tiaras.
@AmyGettinger
Amy-Gettinger
amygettinger.com
Also by Amy Gettinger
Novels (ebook format):
Roll with the Punches (2015)
Alice in Monologue Land (2015)
* * *
Short Story Collection:
Kiss My Sweet Skull (2015)
It Doesn’t Show Signs of Stopping
In Love in the Limelight Series, #3.5
Geralyn Corcillo
1
“Dude! I cannot miss this plane.”
But Dan Allport didn't seem concerned. Damp and muddy from his day's adventures, he took a swig from his water bottle and returned it to the center console. “Sure you don't want one? I've got an entire pack of water on the back seat.”
“I'm fine.” Tanya Diaz sat tall and straight in her seat, arms folded.
“Wow,” Dan said. “That was pretty well enunciated, seeing how hard you're clenching your teeth.”
“Will you step on it? You're going to make me miss my plane, Granny!”
“Make you miss your plane?” Dan's brows shot up, as if he were just considering the option and finding it a delightful one.
“Dan ...” she growled.
“Nice ….” Dan nodded as he smiled. “At least now I'm 'Dan.' Though 'Dude' and 'Granny' are cool, too.”
“My plane?” she warned.
He sighed. “As much as I would love to make you miss your flight, I'm going to get you there in plenty of time. You have forty minutes 'til check-in, and we're almost at La Tijera.”
“Just hurry.”
“You see all the traffic in front of us, right?”
“Why did you even take the freeway?”
Dan laughed. “Go to LAX on surface streets? Clearly, you've never been to L.A. before. Whereas I've lived here my whole life. So shut up.”
“I prefer to berate you.”
Dan nodded. “I get that.”
And oddly enough, Dan did get it.
He'd only met Tanya sixteen hours ago. As it turned out, though, they cared about the same people—Colin and Wendy—people who'd gotten themselves embroiled in one heck of a romantic entanglement.
So Dan and Tanya had come running from separate poles of the country to help out their friends. Well, practically separate poles. Dan had only driven fifteen minutes from Echo Park to Hollywood. But Tanya had hopped on a plane and flown in, all the way from New Orleans.
And from pretty much the instant Dan clapped eyes on Tanya and Tanya had looked right back, there'd been … something. A thrill, a buzz. An attraction. Something had sparked between them. All day long, as Dan had been traipsing across town and through the woods with Colin, trying to fix everything with Wendy, he'd been looking forward to seeing Tanya again.
But when Dan had finally made his way back to her at the end of the day, she had to go back to The Big Easy. One of the cheerleaders on her squad had gotten herself arrested for vandalizing the school. And Tanya had been the kid's one call. She had to go.
So, with so much unexplored chemistry between them, Dan could see how giving in to bad temper was … well … easier.
As he pulled off the freeway onto La Tijera, his heart sank. They would be at the airport in about five minutes. Tanya would be out of the car and gone. But really, what was the big deal? He shouldn't be so disappointed about missing out on time with a woman he'd barely met.
Right?
He needed to snap out of it. “Got everything?” But he asked as if he were reading a cue card. Badly.
“I'm all set.”
Dan shot her a quick glance.
Her voice that had been so ardent was suddenly small, her fiery temper all but gone out. She was concentrating on her phone, looking at the same map app she'd been glued to for the entire ride.
“We're almost there,” Dan assured her quietly.
He turned onto Airport Boulevard.
Tanya nodded. “Well … thanks for driving me. Especially after the day you've had.”
“It's been a great day,” he said, but without any pep. Without any inflection, actually.
“Yeah …” she agreed, just as monotone. “I'm glad it all worked out for them.”
“Yeah.”
“I'm really happy for them,” she added, but she sounded like Eeyore.
“Me, too.”
“Hey!” Tanya sat forward in the seat, looking at the bright sign up ahead. “Can you turn in here?”
“Burger King? I thought you were in a hurry.”
“Yeah. But … um … it's different now that we're out of traffic and I know we're going to make it.” She pointed to the bright blue numbers of the dash clock. “I have half an hour. I think I want a shake before the flight.”
Dan shrugged, even as he bit down on an irrepressible smile. “Okay.” He didn't mind spending another few minutes with Tanya. He didn't mind at all.
After they drove thru and got her a Dr. Pepper shake, Dan headed back toward the road.
But Tanya spoke up again. “Can you maybe park a sec while I drink this? We have time.”
Dan pulled into a spot as Tanya sucked at the straw.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded, swallowing. “It's been a long day. I need the caffeine.”
“Long day?” he scoffed on a bark of laughter. “You spent the day with my mom. Eating chocolate and surfing the net, right?”
“Pam is a hoot,” Tanya said, nodding+. “And she can be way distracting. But worrying in an ensemble when you don't know what's going on is freaking exhausting.”
“Not the wait-around type, I'm guessing?”
Tanya shook her head. “I'm all about the action. Usually. Today was … strange.”
“Yeah ….”
“What about you?” Tanya piped up with determined brightness. “Your day has been legion, running around like Puck in the woods. Headed home to bed after you drop me off?”
Dan looked at her from across the front seat. “Uh … no. Definitely not to bed. I've got Worship.”
Tanya almost choked on her shake. “Church? You're going to church on a Saturday night?”
Dan laughed. “Worship is the name of my jazz club.”
Tanya took another pull from her shake. “Why Worship?” But then she turned to face him fully. “Wait. Are you really a pastor? Pam was telling me how you marry people sometimes. But I thought you just had some online degree or something.”
“I'm an actual pastor,” he said. “Of sorts. Yeah, it's through an online degree, but I had to get it. When Worship closes at one, I feed the people on Skid Row, the ones who show up out back. And I let them sleep in the warehouse. You wouldn't believe what kind of regulations you can get around to do stuff like that in Los Angeles if you're a religious leader of some sort.”
/> “So your jazz club, Worship. It's kind of … your church, too?”
“You could look at it that way. The city does. And it's damn helpful.”
Tanya nodded. “I know all about the red tape when you're trying to help people. God, since I took over The Dorm, it's like all I do is battle bureaucrats.”
“You must be good at it.” Dan gave her an assessing look. “Starting that shelter meant everything to Colin. He never would have left New Orleans to come after Wendy if he didn't trust you with his life.”
“Please.” Tanya rolled her eyes. “He trusted me with running The Dorm.”
“Right,” Dan agreed. “His life. His heart and soul. Helping the troubled teens in the city who need a soft place to land.”
Tanya gave Dan a wicked smile. “He just knows I don't back down from a fight. Not when it matters.”
Dan kept looking at her. “And I bet you win.”
She returned his penetrating gaze. “You and me, Dan? Our lives are kind of similar, you know? Helping out in poor parts of the inner cities. But I think we do it for different reasons. You want to help. You don't make any money from it. But me? I was offered a job and I knew I'd kick ass at it.”
Dan raised his brows and angled his head. “I don't doubt it. But I don't think you give yourself enough credit for being a sap.”
She laughed. “A sap like you? I don't think so.”
“I do. Colin told me today you used to be in sports news … and that the harassment was unreal.”
Tanya shrugged it off but she looked away. “Well, I decided to play into my sex appeal, after all, and coach cheer.”
“Yeah. But you didn't use your smokin' hot bod to climb the corporate ladder. You used it to work with underprivileged girls and make them strong and tough and confident. That was a hell of a choice. And now you've got a new job, running The Dorm.”
She shook her head. “Don't go making me into an angel, Preacher Man.”