Gringa - In the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord (23 page)

             
‘My driver did what?’
What the hell is Diablo up to? Why did he send for them? From what I know of Diablo, he’s too arrogant to have a hidden agenda – unlike Christa who’s artfully underhanded. It’s unheard of for anyone to visit the ranch other than fellow drug dealers and crooked business people.
What if he’s planning something sinister for the whole lot of us?

    
             
A knock on the door
and we all
jump. But it’s just
Rosa
with drinks and snacks for everyone.

    
             
‘Eh, guys, say hello to my good friend
,
Rosa.’

    
             
My father and Austin shake hands with her, while Elaine and Paris ignore her.

             
‘Snacks - how nice,’ Elaine says, helping herself to a
pastry
. ‘Leave the tray over there.’

             
No “Please” and no “Thank you”. That’s how she treats everyone – like they’re all her servants.
             
Rosa
doesn’t seem to notice, thank God.

             
I drag
Rosa
aside. ‘
Rosa
, what’s going on? Why are they here?’

             
She shrugs. ‘You say you miss you family, you say is hard for them, for you, so Diablo, he bring them here. Maybe he don’
t
want you to miss them. Maybe he don’t want you to be out of his sight
,
eh? Maybe …’ She drops her voice, ‘maybe, he worry about Him.’ She jerks her head towards
Austin
and wriggles her eyebrows at me, a knowing smile on her cherubic face.
‘Eh, Senorita?’ Her face turns
crimson and
her nose becomes shiny and bulbous
.

             
‘Mmm.’

    
             
‘Payton!’
Paris
screeches.

     
             
‘Huh?’

     
             
‘I said: this place is awesome
. Modern. Loads more comfortable than our shack. Why you fussing so much?
I’ll
trade with you.’

    
             
‘Yes, but the devil wants
Payton
, not you,’ Elaine mocks as she peers out my window. ‘My God! You conveniently forgot to tell us about the beautiful views you have.’  

             
Elaine would be so much happier if I was living in the hovel she imagined.

    
             
My father walks over to Elaine, puts his arm around her waist and looks outside the window. I don’t ever remember him holding me like that. I only got one-arm hugs, followed by a pat on the back. But he always hugged and touched her differently – like she was precious to him, like he loved her.

             
Will I ever be held and cherished like that by any man?

             
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she looks so young and hip. Today, she’s clad in white, skinny jeans and silver platforms. (Very Spice Girls
to
Paris
’s embarrassment
.) Her blouse is low cut, tight fitting; her jacket is white and cropped. A silver choker adorns her neck and she has about seven or eight silver bracelets
jiggling
around her slim wrists. She looks great.

             
Yeah, I admit - I’m jealous of her, jealous of the way my father loves her. She doesn’t deserve it, the bitch. She treats him like crap.

             
As for
Paris
- she mirrors Elaine’s dressing – skinny, white jeans, white top, short, cropped jacket. But she’s wearing satin pumps and simple jewellery. People often mistook them for sisters and Elaine couldn’t get enough of that mistake. I always felt like the odd one out especially since I dressed so different from them – tomboyish – blue jeans and whatever top that didn’t need ironing. 

             
But even though Elaine looks great, I wouldn’t be happy if my mother wears the same clothes I’m wearing. It’s sorta freaky, creepy.

             
As for my father – he really could do with a makeover - his tweed jacket, suede, brown loafers and gabardine pants – so
1968
. He looks sixty five when he’s only fifty two. Elaine is always nagging him to be more hip. 

             
‘How you doing, Payton?’
Austin
whispers, the moment
Paris
turns her back. 

             
He’s sporting a black eye and a band aid on his forehead.

             
‘Cut yourself while shaving?’ I whisper back, pointing to his band aid.

             
He flashes me a sheepish smile. 

       
             
‘
Austin
had a little accident,’
Paris
says, opening my closet.

             
How the hell did she hear what we’re saying? I guess when it comes to
Austin
and me, Paris misses nothing. 

             
‘Wow! A
re theses you’rs?
’ She jerks her head to look at me, her eyes flashing with greed. ‘They can’t be yours. Did he buy them for you? Does he give you money? Does he?
Austin
never gives me money. I have to beg for it.’

    
             
‘What accident?’ I ask.

    
             
‘Man these are so ... so sexy.’
Paris
yanks off one of my sweaters and slips it over her top. ‘I’m keeping this,’ she says, twirling around in the mirror. ‘Fucking sexy!’

    
             
‘Now Paris,’ Elaine chides. ‘We do not talk like that, dear. It does not mean because you are here, you have to speak like
them
. Paid a lot of money for your private school education, remember?’

    
             
All I can do is flash
Rosa
an apologetic look.

    
             
When
Rosa
rolls her eyes
, her whole head lifts.

    
             
I turn to
Austin
. ‘What accident?’

    
             
He points to the band aid on his forehead.

  
             
Oh that
.

             
I smile wryly. ‘You okay?’

   
             
He nods and mumbles something inaudible. 

             
I pick up Liam and cuddle him. ‘You’re so gorgeous.’

             
To my delight he gurgles at me.

             
‘Ohmigod! he gurgled at me. Did you see th ...?’

             
Suddenly the music blares and the place comes alive, as it does every evening.

             
Paris
rushes to the window and gasps
.
‘Ohmigod they’re having a party! This place is soooo cool. Oooh
!
I love it!’ She spins around and places her hands on both my shoulders. ‘Please, ask him to let us live here. Tell him …tell him you need your sister and …and he must allow Austin and me to live here. We’ll be so nice, we’ll support you ...’

             
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
Austin
snaps. ‘This is not Vegas. You’ve a goddamn baby. Act like a mother.’

             
‘Aww shaddup!’
Paris
says. ‘You’re such a fucking killjoy!’

             
‘And you’re such a  ... ’

             
‘Hey, hey!’ I cry. ‘Knock it off you two.’ I look at
Paris
. ‘You don’t wanna live here, trust me.’

             
She jerks her hands away. ‘You’re lying. You just don’t wanna share. What you scared off? Huh? He’ll want me and your ass will be history? Huh?’

             
I moan and hang my head. ‘
Paris
, you’re so fucked up.’

             
‘Yeah!’
Austin
hisses.

             
Paris
spins around to look at him. ‘Fuck you, you boring dick! Don’t know why I even married your broke ass.’

             
‘Ditto and ditto,’ he says.

             
“Broke ass”? Was
Austin
broke? Anyway, I’m stunned to hear them talk like this to each other.

‘Guys!’ I cry, putting my hand over Liam’s ears. ‘I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but knock it off, okay?

             
‘What going on? I’ll tell you. Something called “bankruptcy” that’s what’s going on,’
Paris
says, her voice dripping with scorn.

             
‘Aww Paris!’
Austin
says. ‘You’re such a bitch. You just can’t keep your trap shut, can you? Have to publicly degrade me.’

They glare at each other.

‘Bankruptcy?’ That’s …that’s terrible,’ I say. I don’t know what bankruptcy
really
means but I’m guessing it bad. 

             
‘Come, let me show you the kitchen. There are knives of all sizes you might find handy,’ I mutter under my breath.

             
I open my room door and look into Diablo’s face. He’s sitting directly across my room. He looks at me with Liam in my arms and raises his eyebrows as if he is surprised at the picture of me with a baby. I smile, embarrassed and shy.