[Corine Solomon 5] Agave Kiss (36 page)

“You’ll be famous by the time Cami is old enough to think your products are cool,” I predicted.

Shan waved a hand in dismissal but I could tell she was pleased. “Maybe. It’ll take some start-up money. I have some ideas on that.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I was thinking I might do séances. Talk to dead people?”

“Be careful. You might cause trouble for Jesse if you get a reputation as a charlatan. And if people think you’re legit, that’s a whole different set of problems.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say it was a perfect plan.”

I hugged her with a squirming dog between us. “I was wondering . . . would you and Jesse be willing to serve as godparents?”

It was a huge thing to ask, considering her age, but she was my closest friend. If all went well, it’d just be a titular role that involved spoiling the baby rotten; so far, it hadn’t been hard with Cami. There were more overtones, like religious training and raising the kid if something happened to Chance and me, but I wasn’t asking with those things in mind. This was a gesture that proved things were—and would always be—good between two Kilmer girls who made it out despite the odds.

Her arms tightened around my shoulders. “God, yes. I mean, I have to ask Jesse, but I don’t think he’ll mind.” Shan’s voice thickened, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I have . . .
so much
now, Corine—family . . .” I suspected she meant the Ortiz clan and Jesse’s folks, plus all his other relatives. From what she’d said, they had welcomed her with open arms, even though she was young for him and didn’t dress like a nice girl.

She took a breath, continuing, “Friends, a future. I can’t tell you—”

“Then don’t. I get it.”

“Okay.” Shan pushed out a shuddering breath, hugged me hard, then let go. That felt a little symbolic.

At the beginning, she was a lost kid, but she’d turned into a strong woman who could meet me as an equal. She had her own plans and dreams . . . her own life—and that was as it should be. Maybe if I hadn’t cast that forget spell, she wouldn’t have figured out what she wanted from life so soon. I hated to think I could’ve limited her by being overprotective; damn, I had to watch that with my own kid.

“There’s one thing I want to give you,” I said.

“I’ve taken enough from you,” she protested, but I was having none of it.

I put the Pinto keys in her palm. “Chuch can work with you on the title, make it official. It’s a hell of an ugly car, but you need one, and it’s served me well.”

Shan paused, like she might argue. Then she tucked the keys into her pocket. “Thank you.” She’d evidently decided to be gracious. “Now let’s get back in there,” she said. “And party like it’s 1999.”

I nodded. “Yep. We’re taking Booke to the airport late tonight, and then we’re heading out too.”

“God, it hurts to think of saying good-bye to you,” she choked out.

“Don’t make the pregnant lady cry again. And it’s not a good-bye, Shan,
never
a good-bye between you and me. This is only sayonara.”

Home at Last

It was tough leaving everyone in Texas, knowing it would be months before we got together again. Chance and I intended to
catch a midnight bus, so we could sleep on the way home. Airports had better security, and he didn’t have any ID on him. His passport was back in Mexico City at the apartment, along with everything else he owned. I knew from experience that they didn’t care about illegal entry into Mexico. It was only tough getting back into the States.

That night at the bus terminal, I gave hugs and kisses multiple times, nuzzled Cami’s soft baby cheeks until she chortled. Booke was already gone, of course. We’d dropped him off at the airport first. He’d kissed me on the tip of the nose and asked, “How would you like a postcard from Shanghai?”

“I’d love one,” I’d said.

Shan hugged me hardest of all. “I expect regular Skype calls.”

“Every night if you want, at least for a few minutes.”

“Deal.”

Jesse stepped up beside her, letting me know he had her back. She wasn’t sketchy like some gifted girls he’d dated. Maybe she was a little off-kilter to be a cop’s girl, but like complex puzzle pieces, they fit perfectly, creating a larger design. She teared up when Chuch walked Chance and me to the front doors of the station, and I waved until she turned a tearful face into Jesse’s shoulder.

For once at a loss for words, Chuch shifted back and forth on his heels. “I could totally drive you to Monterrey. It’d be no trouble. Eva said—”

I held up a hand, stemming his protest. “And
I
said you should get home to your family. We’ll be seeing you soon.”

“You better invite us over.” Chuch cleared his throat, hard.

I choked up in turn. “As soon as possible. Please don’t make me bawl at the bus station,
primo
.”

At that he managed a smile, then hugged us both, hard. Other people surged around us while Chuch clutched us around the neck; he smelled of cologne and motor oil. Eventually Chance brought the tableaux to a close with a murmur that our bus was leaving in fifteen minutes.

It wasn’t a dramatic exit, more a quiet setting to rights. Chuch, Jesse, and Shan stayed to watch us pull out of the terminal. Though I hadn’t realized it, I was crying silently. Too much had happened, too much change, and my world would never be the same. It wasn’t bad, but it was different; and I’d never been one to adapt too fast.

“We could move to Texas,” Chance said quietly. “All our friends are there.”

“Not Booke.”

“True. But he will be in a year.”

I smiled. “Let’s talk about it then.”

The truth was, even though so many of my loved ones made their homes in Texas, it didn’t feel like home to me. Since leaving Chance, I’d only ever been content in Mexico . . . and I wanted to see how much better it could be with him at my side, building our lives together. If he hated it, then we’d revisit the question.

“I just want to be with
you,
” he said then. “I don’t care where.”

I melted.

“Twila showed me a glimpse of things to come, you know.”

He smiled at me. “Anything good waiting down the line?”

“The vision was kind of a mess, but we might be having a boy. If what she showed me is true.”

“Really?” The lights from the parking lot outside illuminated his face well enough that I saw his brows arch. “I guess we should talk about names, then.”

“I was hoping to convince you to name him after Kel.”

His fingers tensed in mine. I knew he had mixed feelings about the guy, but since he was gone, I wanted to do something to honor his life . . . and his sacrifice. So I tried to explain.

“Not Kelethiel. That’s too weird to hang on a kid. But something that could shorten to Kel as a nickname. Kelvin, Kelton, Kel—”

“Kellen,” he cut in. “I could live with Kellen.”

“Wow. You’ve been thinking about this already.”

He nodded, bringing my hand to his lips. The kiss to my palm roused tingles up and down my whole arm. “I have, actually. I’ll never like the fact that you cared about him . . . or that he wanted you for himself. But I’m here with you, and he died to make that happen. I feel like I need to repay the debt somehow.”

“Me too,” I admitted.

“Kellen means mighty warrior,” Chance said as the bus pulled away from the terminal. Chuch’s car drove out after us, and they turned the other way to take Shannon home.

“That sure fits, considering what this kid has already been through.”

“He’s a fighter, like you. I’m sure, down the line, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“In the best possible way.”

A family,
I thought.
That’s what we are—with shared dreams, a promise of forever.
It had been so long that I didn’t remember how I should feel about that, and I strangled more tears. Men didn’t usually understand that they could come from a place of joy too, and I didn’t want to worry Chance.

He held my hand the entire trip. Not because he was afraid, but because he wanted to. He laced our fingers together after we talked about baby names and only relinquished me in Monterrey. No hitches prevented us from catching the next bus, a twelve-hour trip that ended with us exhausted in Mexico City. I fell asleep on Chance’s shoulder; he only woke me when we pulled into the final station. Then he collected our bags and hailed a cab in halting Spanish. I glowed a little that he was trying so hard. As we got in the taxi, I rang Tia to let her know we’d be there soon.

Though it was early, traffic was heavy, and it took forty-five minutes to reach my mentor’s house. She opened the door before I’d hardly rung the bell and hugged me hard. As usual, she wore a loose housedress and an apron in competing floral patterns. Her gray hair was braided neatly; her lined face revealed nothing but pleasure in my arrival.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said in Spanish.

“Likewise.” I kissed her cheek.

She gave me a serious look. “I wondered if I had to die to get you to come home.”

“No, I just had some business to take care of first.”

“I know,
nena
. Looks like you tracked Chance down too. I told you to keep this one. You’ll make beautiful babies.”

A blush heated my cheeks, but I didn’t dispute her words. “I hope so. We’ll find out in seven months or so.”

Her eyes dropped to my belly; then she pressed gnarled fingers to my abdomen.
“Felicidades!
Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“You can tell?” Chance asked in surprise. “Just from a touch?”

Tia cackled. “Of course not. I’m a witch, not a gypsy. But if I guess, I have a fifty percent chance of being right. I used a little of your money,” she went on, as she ushered me into the house for warm gorditas and cold horchata.

Once she settled us at the kitchen table, I waved her statement away. “I intend to settle some money on you, so you don’t have to work so hard.”

“I appreciate that,
mija
.” The diminutive endearment meant she looked on me as a daughter, or more likely, granddaughter.

Touched, I ate the snack she had prepared, and we chatted about how life had treated her in our absence. She complained about a rival named Juanita and the witch who was undercutting her at the market stalls. Comforting that some things never changed . . . that I had a place where somebody always welcomed me.

After we finished, Chance kissed Tia’s hand and said, “I trust you have no objection to my attentions to Corine, especially in light of her interesting condition.”

“You’re a good boy,” she said. “But cheeky!” She turned to me with a playful scowl. “Didn’t I tell you not to let him have his fun without a ring on your finger? And look where it got you.”

“I had fun too,” I pointed out, and she swatted me with a striped dish towel.

Chance was grinning, delighted with our exchange, which I assumed meant he had translated it correctly. He dropped a hot kiss on my smiling mouth. I tangled my fingers in his hair and forgot about Tia, until she splashed some water on us.

“
Dios mio
, you’re like a pair of shameless dogs. Out!”

“Wait! We need some protective charms,” I told her.

That appeased her sense of the proprieties.
“Claro
. With a baby on the way, it’s only prudent. I’ll get to work on them right away.”

Thus shooed from Tia’s kitchen, I went with Chance into the front room, where we killed two hours kissing and whispering. If I’d been watching us, I suspect I’d have hated every minute of it. But I didn’t move away until the bell rang. Chance went with me to answer it, hoping it was his mother. Min stood with a pile of bags at her feet, a taxi pulling away into the cool twilight. She went into her son’s arms in a puddle of tears; I retreated into the house so they could have some time alone. Their voices rose and fell in the courtyard garden, a lovely place for such a reunion.
Better than a filthy warehouse, for sure.
But it didn’t matter where Chance came back to us, only that he was here.

And he’s not going away again.

Slowly, surely, I was accepting this as truth. My life’s path had been rewritten, and I couldn’t wait to see where it led. Twila’s words rang in my head, and this time they sounded like a benediction:
There are no destinies now. Life will be what you make of it, whatever you choose.

Half an hour later, Min accompanied Chance into the house; he hauled her bags into the living room, then looked bemused as to where to put them. An idea struck me, so I hurried into the kitchen to check with Tia.

“Chance’s mother is here. We don’t have room for her at the apartment, and I was wondering if you would mind if she took my room for a little while. I’ll cover room and board—”

“She’s family,” the old woman cut in. “You’re family. And you take care of me very well,
mija
. Of course your
suegra
can stay.”

Suegra
meant mother-in-law in Spanish. Though Chance and I weren’t married, it was close enough to the truth that I just hugged Tia and thanked her. If I stepped on her pride, she would make my life difficult in countless ways. She squeezed me back, ending with a firm pat.

“You just keep giving me reasons not to die. I think I’ll stay another year. I want to see the baby.”

Tia talked about death like it was a decision to be made; and maybe it was. You heard stories about people who lived to be eighty-seven and only passed on after they had no work to do, no useful purpose. If my baby gave her a reason to stick around, I was glad. I went to the bedroom I had used once, collected the remainder of my things. Whether Tia wanted the money or not, I left her three thousand dollars in the treasure box. So long as she lived, she would want for nothing. I’d stand as family for her, as she’d done for me.

I came out with my bags packed. Chance and Min were sitting together on the couch, his mother tucked beneath his arm. I didn’t intrude, knowing he was her whole world, but not in a way that made her dependent or clipped his wings. Min was one of the strongest women I knew, apart from my other mother; but then I had an abundance of powerful ladies in my life. Between Shannon, Eva, Tia, and Twila, I would be hard-pressed to find one who didn’t totally kick ass and take names.