Every Wound We Mend

by J. E. Parker

  A second later, a red-faced Melody stormed through the sunlit foyer, which was in plain view from where we all sat, and down the hall toward the kitchen, her flip-flop covered feet slapping against the hardwood as she went.

  My skin bristled. “Was she crying?” With her cheeks stained crimson and puffy, it sure looked like it. “What in the world happened?”

  She’d been outside, seated on the porch swing between Bella and Olivia, watching Hendrix play in the yard with Gracie and the boys. Had one of the girls been mean to her? Maybe said something hurtful like kids did at times?

  If so, someone was in trouble.

  As Jade would say, a whole heap of it.

  At the sound of my questions, Ashley jerked up. “Who?” Bleary-eyed and lost, she looked around, trying her best to figure out what was happening. “Who’s crying?”

  Not answering, I stood, ready to find the underlying cause of whatever I was sure had caused tears to fall down Melody’s beautiful face. “Stay here,” I demanded when Shelby jumped up, her concerned expression mimicking mine. “I’ll handle it.”

  A look of surprise, then approval, crossed her face. “Get to it then, CeCe.” Grinning, she plopped back down and flung herself over Jade’s lap. “If you need backup, just holler. I’ve got my shitkickers on, so I’m ready to roll.”

  I pointed at her. “Language.”

  She huffed. “Yes, Mother.”

  The single word hit me straight in the gut. Si, she’d said it in a joking way, but my response to her was anything but.

  “That’s correcta,” I replied, not missing a beat. “I may be a little late to the party, but I am your madre now. Therefore, do what I say.” Shocked, her eyes softened, losing the smartass sparkle that had shone in their cornflower blue depths only seconds before.

  “Carmen...”

  I swallowed, though the lump in my throat made doing so difficult. “Stay, mija,” I whispered, emphasizing the point I’d already made.

  That point? That like Hendrix and Jade—Ashley too, though she’d been bumped to nieta status—she was mine.

  Mi hija, mi bebé.

  I didn’t give a single damn that I’d only been in her life for a brief time. As far as my heart was concerned, as James’ daughter, she had always been mine. It just took me longer than it should’ve to make my way into her life.

  “Let me handle this.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, hiding the tears I’d glimpsed forming. “Okay.” A shaky smile now played on her lips, replacing the confident grin she’d just worn. “We’ll be here.”

  I exhaled, emotional overload threatening to consume me. “That’s what I’m counting on,” I replied, more meaning than she realized lining each word. “Always.”

  I gave her no chance to respond.

  Instead, close to falling apart, I walked out.

  I found Melody crying in the kitchen.

  But much to my surprise, she wasn’t alone.

  After sneaking through the back door, at least that’s what I assumed since it was still hanging wide open, letting the humid heat spill into the air-conditioned house, Liam—Brantley and Clara’s fourteen-year-old son—stood next to where she sat at the wooden table, her sweet face buried in her crossed arms.

  “Melly Belly,” he whispered, his expression one of mounting distress as he shifted his weight between his feet, lost on what to do with himself. Then, not seeing me, where I lurked right outside the doorway, just out of sight, he continued. “Why are you crying?” His face hardened. “And who made you do it? Just tell me, and I’ll—”

  The chair where Melody had her culo parked made a God-awful scraping sound when she abruptly stood, sending it flying backward and almost out the open door. Shoving her straightened arms down at her sides, she fisted her trembling hands.

  “I’m crying because I don’t like her!”

  Liam blinked. “Who?”

  More red splotches bloomed on her little cheeks, a temper I hadn’t known she possessed, though I wasn’t surprised considering her lineage, making an appearance. “Kendra!”

  My brows bent at the shouted name. I didn’t know who Kendra was, but as I stood there seething, I wondered if I needed to find a closet to shove her into as punishment for making Melody cry.

  It was a fleeting thought, however. I wouldn’t do such a thing to a child. Honestly, I wouldn’t, no matter how badly I wanted to.

  Her madre, though...

  “And you aren’t going to do anything because she’s your girlfriend!” she continued to scream, snaring my focus from the criminal-like plans I’d started to concoct and causing my glossed lips to part, mouth falling right open.

  Girlfriend? Dios mío!

  Melody stomped her foot on the ground and screeched, really putting the dramatics she’d inherited from her father on full display. “She may be pretty, Liam Nicholas Morgan”—I gasped, my right hand clutching my imaginary pearls when she called him by his full name—“but she’s meaner than a peed-off rattlesnake, and I hope her dumb lips fall off so she can’t kiss you no more!”

  I blinked, my ire rising, as the real-life telenovela before me continued to play out, and Liam scowled. “Kendra’s mean to you?”

  Melody started to cry again, the tears that had temporarily ceased now falling in rivulets down her flushed face. “Only all the time,” she replied, breaking my heart. “She calls me ugly and stupid, and I don’t want to see her again!” Her shoulders shook. “Never ever again!”

  Losing her fight, Melody slumped against the table. Chin wobbling, she looked up at Liam from beneath her soaked black lashes. “She called me ugly because I have freckles like Mama and Maci, and stupid because she saw Bella trying to help me read better.”

  More of her tears fell.

  “Do you think I’m ugly?”

  Liam’s face fell, his heart obviously breaking for her. Much like mine. But downright irate, I’d had it and refused to give him the chance to say the wrong thing when she was at her most vulnerable.

  And given that he was a teenager, a boy at that, the odds that he would do so were sky high, even if unintentionally.

  “Liam, go back outside with Hendrix and the rest of the kids, por favor,” I said, keeping the fury out of my voice as I stepped into the kitchen. “I need to speak with Melody.”

  My hands shook, the tight leash keeping my temper in check fraying. Another little chica, whose parents needed to teach her some manners, had called mi nieta ugly and stupid.

  To borrow a phrase from Guapo...

  This was pure bullshit.

  Liam nodded without putting up an argument, dousing my temper’s lit fuse. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Turning, he moved to the open back door. But before stepping outside and pulling it closed behind him, he moved Melody’s chair out of the way and looked back at her over his shoulder, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “You’re not stupid, Melly Belly. And you sure aren’t ugly either,” he murmured, his words quiet but clear. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, freckles and all.”

  Melody and I both froze.

  “And you won’t see Kendra around here anymore.” His sad eyes pierced my heart, wounding me differently than Melody’s tears had. “I promise you that.”

  A breath later, the door slammed shut.

  Then he was gone.

  Not giving myself time to think of the things he’d just said or what they may one day mean, I dropped to my knees in front of Melody and took her face in my hands.

  “Bebé, I want you to listen to me,” I said, in full-blown CeCe mode and not wasting a single second before trying to fix her tattered heart. “You are not stupid, and you are certainly not ugly,” I told her, reiterating what Liam had also said.

  “But Kendra—”

  “Kendra was wrong,” I cut in, wanting to scrub away the cruel words I knew had been etched on her sweet soul. “But I am old and wise”—I snorted—“and I am also your new CeCe. Therefore, you must listen to
what I’m about to tell you.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  I took a breath, fighting to steady myself. “You are beautiful, you are smart, you are kind, and you are fierce.”

  The lump in my throat grew.

  Still, I pushed forward, not letting it stop me from speaking the truths Melody needed to hear. “What you are not, however, is what someone else calls you out of anger, jealousy, or pain. Si, you understand?”

  “You think I’m pretty?”

  “No, Melody,” I replied as her little chin wobbled further. “Like your Mama, sister, aunts, cousins, and friends, I think you’re one of the most beautiful chicas in the entire world.” My thumbs wiped away her tears. “And I want you to promise me that you will never, not ever, forget that.”

  Her hands found my face, cupping my cheeks, just like my palms were doing hers. “I think you’re beautiful too.” It was my turn to choke up. “And I’m glad you came home from vacation.”

  Vacation?

  Is that what she’d been told of my absence?

  If so, I was okay with that.

  Still innocent and untouched by the type of ugly that had scarred my soul, she didn’t need to know the truth of everything Jade and I had been through, along with why we’d been missing since before she was born.

  One day, si, but that day was not today.

  “Me too, bebé, me too.” I kissed her forehead, then dropped my hands and stood, causing her palms to fall away. My cheeks ached at the loss of her touch. “Now let’s talk about something that makes me happy”—I winked at her—“food.”

  She giggled as I looked around the galley-style kitchen, which I’d scrubbed top to bottom an hour before, a task I’d enjoyed. “How about you grab the rest of the chicas, and we can all cook dinner together before Pop-Pop gets home?”

  Her stunning green eyes lit up with excitement. “Can we have Sloppy Joes and tater wedges?”

  Suppressing a smile, I bent forward, hands going to my thighs, bringing us eye to eye. “We can.” I think, I mentally added. “There is just one thing I must know first.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “What?”

  Smile breaking free, my heart fluttered. “What exactly is a Sloppy Joe, and more importantly, how do I cook it?”

  “CeCe!” She slapped her palms over her mouth, hiding her lips from my view, much like Maci had done the day before, and laughed—hard.

  Feigning offense, I righted myself, one hand going to my hip. “Look at you laughing.” I huffed, flicking my hair back over my shoulder, making it clear I was joking. “And at my expense. The nerve of you, little chica—”

  “I’m home!”

  My belly flipped, the butterflies that lived there taking flight at the sound of Guapo’s deep baritone. “Pop-Pop!” Melody screamed, taking off as my heart raced. “You’re back!”

  Unable to help myself, I followed right behind her, more than eager to wrap my arms around James’ neck and touch my lips to his. But unlike Melody, when I stepped out of the kitchen and into the hall, I froze.

  And I did so, because standing at the opposite end, right in the middle of the foyer, was James. Only, busy as could be, he didn’t see me standing there, my unblinking stare watching him as he hugged one little chica after another, his love for each of them obvious.

  First Addie, second Maci, third Lily Ann, fourth Melody; then Gracie, Olivia, and Bella, who I guessed had followed him inside.

  He squeezed each of them so tightly, I doubted they could breathe. Not that they seemed to mind. Me though? I couldn’t pull in a single hit of oxygen. Not when the sight of such love made my heart leap, then melt.

  “You,” he said to me after releasing Bella and looking up, his love-filled gaze meeting my watery one. Crooking a finger, he beckoned for me to do as he wanted. “Come here.”

  Wiping away my tears—will these things ever stop falling?—I hesitated for the briefest of moments. Then, like the lovesick señorita I was, I took off, reaching him in record time, before throwing myself into his waiting arms.

  Face going to his throat, like it had done many times before, I wrapped my forearms around his neck and held him tight as he squeezed me in return, his deep inhales working to pull the exotic notes of my coconut-scented shampoo into his lungs.

  Shampoo which I’d been able to use thanks to him marching outside at dawn this morning, mere minutes after waking up, and retrieving it, along with the rest of my belongings from my Kia.

  “I’m moving you in,” he’d said as he strutted back into the house, carrying my packed things up the stairs, where I then stood, my hair a knotted mess, waiting for him. “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to the motel and get the rest of your shit.”

  His words had left no room for argument.

  Not that I’d wanted to quarrel.

  Because, trust me, I hadn’t.

  Not when I was too old to waste another second outside of the personal Heaven I’d stumbled into the moment he stormed into Chiquita’s living room, giving me the surprise of my life.

  With him, I wanted forever.

  And this time, I would have it.

  “I missed you,” he whispered, bringing me back to the present, his voice all gruff-like, which I loved. “A whole hell of a lot.”

  Lips curving into a genuine smile, one I was still getting used to, I leaned back and tethered my gaze to his. “I missed you too. How did—”

  “Anthony’s going to help us,” he continued, not giving me a chance to finish asking how things had gone down at the station. “Just as quickly as he can.”

  I almost had a breakdown. Right then and there. “Gracias, Guapo,” I whispered. “For everything.”

  Whiskey-colored eyes twinkling, he smirked. “Everything, huh? Care to be more specific?”

  The pendejo was being a smartass, per usual, but close to crumbling thanks to the emotional overload weighing on me, I didn’t have it in me to sass him back.

  Instead, I spoke the reply my heart conjured.

  “As I said, for everything.”

  His face softened. “Carmen—”

  “For keeping your promises,” I cut in, needing to say the words aloud. “But also for saving me, and for never giving up or moving on. Most importantly, though, for loving me through the darkest of times, even when I didn’t have the strength to love myself.”

  When we first met, I’d been what I thought was nothing more than a junkie whore. Worthless to most. Invisible to others. Yet, James had seen past the self-hate I wore like impenetrable armor and had chosen to not only save me from myself, but to also love me endlessly, even after he thought I was dead.

  He was my lover and savior.

  And most of all, my heart.

  Si, I was never letting him go.

  No matter what, he was mine.

  I glanced at the little chicas who surrounded us in a circle, their wide eyes watching our every move; to Shelby, Jade, and Ashley, who stood in the family room to my left, their unblinking stares locked on us all as well.

  I feel like a monkey at the zoo.

  Nearly laughing at the thought, my eyes slid back to the man holding me, the feel of his arms around me something I’d never tire of. “But mostly, for them, my new familia.”

  He exhaled. “Beautiful, you don’t have—”

  “Ma!”

  Hendrix’s booming voice—he called me Ma—cut through the air when he shoved open the heavy front door and stepped into the foyer, a worn football tucked under his muscular arm, his shirtless torso covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and grass stains.

  “My wife is at work, Grandmama is getting ready to hit the town with Dottie, Felix too, the poor guy, and I’m starving. That means you’ve gotta feed me before I fall over from starv—”

  His tongue seized when he caught sight of James holding me, along with the audience observing our every move. “For frick sake.” He shook his head. “Y’all are worse than teenagers.”

  Catching sight of his daught
ers, he smiled, then mumbled, “You two better not get any ideas from Pop-Pop and CeCe kissing all the time either since neither of you is allowed near a single boy that isn’t your brother or cousins until you’re thirty.” He paused. “Maybe even forty.”

  “Daddy!” Melody stomped her foot, just like she’d done earlier in the kitchen. “That’s not fair! Mama said I can have a boyfriend when I turn fourteen! And Liam isn’t our cousin, but he’s my best friend, so I’m keeping him!”

  Shelby made a choking sound. Jade, though, looked stunned. And Chiquita? Hand covering her mouth, she was fighting to hold back laughter. As for me, all I could think was, here goes telenovela episode numero dos.

  Face red and chest heaving, Hendrix looked close to having a heart attack. Considering the circumstances, if it hadn’t been so comical to see, I might have felt sorry for him.

  Alas, I did not.

  “Liam is too old to be your best friend.”

  “He. Is. Not!”

  “You get a boyfriend at fourteen, Melody, and I promise I’ll tie him up and lock him away in Grandmama’s dungeon. That’s after I let your little brother beat the crap outta him,” Hendrix fired back, leaving the battle over Liam alone for now.

  It was a war he was sure to lose.

  Hands going to her hips, Maci scoffed. “Maddox wouldn’t do that.” From what I’d seen of Maddox so far, I wasn’t sure I agreed. He was a little kid, si, but he was so protective of his sisters that it was loco.

  If he knew Melody was crying minutes ago...

  “Plus,” Maci added, coming to her big sister’s defense. “Grandmama doesn’t have a dungeon, or else I would’ve seen it.”

  Hendrix chuckled. “Wanna bet?”

  Melody screamed, the hissy fit she was throwing now in full swing. “I’m telling Mama!” Another stomp. “And then I’m telling Grandmama!”

  “Alright now,” James cut in before things could get more out of hand, even though I could tell by the look on his pensive face that he didn’t like the idea of his granddaughters one day having boyfriends any more than Hendrix did. “Not one of you is allowed to get a boyfriend anytime soon.” He gave twelve-year-old Bella, the eldest, an you-better-listen-to-what-I’m-saying look. “Including you. So everybody knock it off.”