Of Hustle and Heart (13 page)

She’s wrong, though. Antonio is not my dad. Not even my real uncle. As I’ve gotten older, especially in the last few months, I’ve torn my head apart trying to figure out where it would leave us once he didn’t feel the need to watch out for me anymore. I lower my head, hiding behind the bad lighting in the truck.

“Zee, don’t be sad. Shannon’s an idiot, and things will get better. They have to.”

She’s hopeful; I can hear it in the low certainty of her voice. I want to tell her she’s right, but I can’t because hoping has exhausted me.

“So he’s not coming back any time soon?” I ask.

“All I know is he’s gone for the night. If you don’t want to be alone, I can sneak and spend the night with you.”

“Nah, don’t do that. Your dad is already bothered enough by us. I’ll stay the night alone.”

Tony’s place is about fifteen minutes away from his brother’s house, and I feel safe knowing Blanca’s family is close by. Tony lives in a gated community of luxury apartments built on an illuminated lakefront in Pearwood, Texas. Blanca punches in a code to open the gate and pulls up in front of the second building. Uncle Tony’s parking spot is empty, so we pull up right in front of the door.

“Are you sure he’s not here?” I ask. “Why is the porch light on?”

“They come on automatically at night. Nobody has to be home.”

“Have you been here before?” I ask Blanca.

“Once. When he first moved in, Leidys and I came over to bring the rest of his clothes and some other stuff he’d left at the house.”

Blanca unlocks the front door, and I follow close behind. The place is dark, except for the blinking buttons on his cable box.

“Where’s the light switch?” I ask as I stumble over something in the dark. “Shit!”

“What the hell? Please don’t break the man’s stuff. Tony and Leidys will be all over my ass.”

“Whatever. Just find the damn lights, would you?” I mumble.

Suddenly, the TV comes on.

“Found the remote!” Blanca says with a smile.

The glow from the television illuminates the room, enough for me to see the light switch on the far wall. I walk over and flip it on.

“And I found the lights.”

Blanca doesn’t stick around for long. She only has twenty minutes to get home, so I tell her to haul tail. She wraps her arms around me and mushes her face against mine.

“Don’t break the man’s stuff,” she says.

“Shut up.” I laugh and lock the door behind her.

Tony’s place is more than nice; it’s lavish—in a rugged, manly sort of way. I am beyond excited. I feel safe and whole here, and I know leaving in a day or two will be hard for me.

I head for Tony’s kitchen. In the refrigerator, I find a bowl of grapes, a carton of reduced fat milk, three Bud Light Platinum, and a six-pack of bottled water. I grab a beer, pop it open, and down half the bottle.

His place is freezing and full of ceiling-to-floor windows, polished furniture, and earthy artistry. My skin is sticky from the outside humidity, so I desperately need to take a shower. The door to his bedroom is cracked, and the lights are off. I don’t like the idea of invading Uncle Tony’s space, but I’m here, and I can’t resist. I push it open and peek inside.

“Hello!” I call out. No answer.

I search the wall for a light switch, which I find next to the bed. His bed is a little messy. He’s left a white T-shirt and a pair of dark brown pajamas on one of his pillows and a scuffle of gray and rust sheets pushed toward the edge of the bed. I walk over and untangle his sheets. The memory of him standing with me in front of my house the other day invades my thoughts. The sun setting around him, his fingers wrapped tight around my wrist…standing so close…I straighten his pillows and pull the rest of his bedding loose. Tony’s bathroom is attached to the bedroom, and it’s nearly as big as his living room. I get undressed, leaving my clothes sprawled on the bathroom floor. Standing naked in front of the full-length mirror, I admire the changes my body has experienced in the past three years. Nice shoulders, a pudge of baby fat on my lower abdomen, and round breasts. I twist my hair into a ponytail and turn the shower on, letting the water run until it’s hot enough to steam up the mirror.

After I shower, I dry off and dress myself in an oversized red T-shirt. My skin is still damp, and my hair smells musky, like his shampoo and conditioner, which I helped myself to in his absence.

I fell asleep, as I usually do after a hot shower and the sound of a key rattling in the door startles me. Then I hear Tony’s voice. He’s with a woman. I sit on my knees in the middle of the bed and listen for a second, my heart racing as I attempt to contain myself.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

I look around for my bag but then remember I’d left it by the couch in the living room. I tiptoe over to the bathroom, turn off the light, and gently push the bedroom door closed with my foot until only a tiny crack remains. I stand close enough to peek out without being seen, waiting for a signal to show myself.

The woman and Tony talk about relationships and what each of them is looking for in the other person; the woman has a long list of requirements she rambles off gleefully in a Spanish accent. Tony sips his beer as he listens to her. Suddenly, he looks at the bedroom door, peering intently as if he’s noticed me. He watches for a moment until I open the door and stick my head out. It doesn’t matter; he knows it’s me. I can see it in his eyes.

CHAPTER 22

ZACARIAS

I
t’s a gray Wednesday evening, nine days before my birthday. I haven’t talked to my big brother, Francisco, in almost a month. I decide it’s time to rectify the situation. With Whitney sound asleep in my bed, I step out onto the patio.

“What’s up, brother?” he greets me on the fourth ring.

“My girlfriend’s pregnant,” I dive right in, without even a hello.

“What? The redhead mom can’t stand?”

“Yeah. Whitney.”

“How’d you pull that off?” he asks with a laugh.

“Cisco, don’t laugh about this, bro. I don’t want this—any of it.”

He’s silent on the other end…but not for long. “What do you mean you don’t want this?”

“I was going to break up with her before she told me she was pregnant.”

“Really? And now?”

“I can’t leave her. It would be so wrong. I just can’t do it.”

“Do you love the girl?”

“I did.”

“So you don’t anymore?”

I plop onto one of the patio chairs. “She’s not the one for me, bro,” I whisper. “I feel horrible, and I feel trapped. I don’t know what to do, man.”

“Zack, this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be trying to force something you know won’t work.”

“But she loves me, and she wants the baby. It could work.”

“No, it couldn’t—it won’t. This
will not
be good. Quit her, call it off…”

“Nah, man. I can’t. I
want
my kid in my life.”

CHAPTER 23

ZINA

T
ony looks up at me for a second, a fatherly look on his face. He doesn’t say anything at first, and I brace myself for what might come next.

I take a long look at the woman sitting next to him. She’s wearing a low-cut sequined black dress. Her legs, longer than mine, are crossed at the thigh, with one platform stiletto dangling in the air. Confusion is written all over her face. She jumps to the obvious conclusion—as would anyone who stumbles across me—half-dressed in her date’s apartment. I stare at the two of them. She looks at Tony and then me. She flips her hair over her shoulder.

“I should go,” the woman says. I glance at her.

Uncle Tony presses his lips. “No, you don’t leave,” he says as she grabs her purse from the coffee table. “Natalia, this is Zina, my little niece,” Tony says, without taking his eyes off me.

The woman looks at me sideways. “She’s not all that little. Honey, do your uncle a favor and go find some bottoms.”

Uncle Tony gets up and grabs the bag I’d dropped beside the couch. I guess he’s known I was there all along. “When you’re done, meet me on the patio,” he says.

I don’t have a lot of clothes, so I slide back into the black mini I wore to school, underneath my red T-shirt. My hands tremble as I look for my shoes. I’m freaking out, and I just want to get this impending scolding over.

“Fuck the shoes,” I mumble, giving up and heading to the balcony.

The balcony runs along the upstairs patio connecting to the master suite. I slide the door open and walk out to the deck, which overlooks the brilliant Lake Darling. The underwater lighting gleams like diamonds in the rippling water. I’m captivated and dying to dip my bare feet in. I sit on the ground and let my legs hang over the edge, but someone grabs my foot and shakes. I jerk away.

“Come down here,” Tony beckons.

Fuck me
. I get up and walk down the stairs as he stands in front of his patio chair. He’s watching me with a keen eye and digging around in his pocket for something.

“You drank one of my beers,” he says.

I stop cold.
Really?

“Don’t deny it.” He shakes his head at me.

“So what?”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t be a smart ass with me. I hate that,” he says, sitting in his chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Is this you being the responsible uncle?” I say, sitting across from him.

“Zina, I’m
always
responsible for you. Why didn’t you just
ask
to crash here? The answer is yes, whether I’m here or not.”

He takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shakes one loose. He lights it and leans back. I watch the nicotine subdue him as he blows effortless clouds of cancer smoke.

“I was going to get a hotel room, but your niece had a better idea.”

“My niece…Blanca doesn’t have a key,” he says.

“Well, Blanca asked Leidys—or at least I think she asked—if I could stay here while our lights were out, and Leidys gave her the keys to give to me, I think.”

He frowned. “Your lights are still off? You told me it was taken care of.” He empties his cigarette into an ashtray.

Fuck, I forgot.
He takes another hit off his cigarette.

“So you haven’t had electricity at your house for this long? Where you been staying?”

“At home. Where else?”

He exhales a cloud of smoke and peeks inside at Natalia, who’s sitting on the couch, impatiently tapping her foot. “I get it: we weren’t supposed to be here—I wasn’t supposed to be here. We’ll leave. It’s easier for you that way.”

“I can go to the hotel. I haven’t cancelled my room yet,” I say.

He looks at me, grinding his cigarette butt into the ashtray.

“You’ve showered already, and you have school in the morning.” He walks over and sits next to me. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out sixty dollars. “Order something, eat, and go to bed.” I nod, taking the money. “So I gotta go outta town. I’ll be gone the rest of the week.”

“Okay.”

“Can you stay here till I get back?”

I shrug. “Yeah, why not.”

“Check with your mama first.”

“Okay. I need to ask you something,” I say. I’m nervous of what will come next. He looks at me, waiting for me to continue. “I want them dead. Uncle, I don’t feel safe anywhere.” My voice hitches in my throat. His eyes widen.

“Are you serious?” he whispers.

“I’m scared all the time. Sad all the time. I can’t sleep. I’m serious.”

“Why do you think I—”

“Antonio?” Natalia interrupts, sticking her head through a crack in the patio door. “I’ve been sitting on the couch by myself for an hour and a half.”

She switches from English to Spanish, knowing I’m taking advantage of the situation. I’m disgusted that eventually he’ll leave with her and most likely spend the night wherever she is. I’m throwing major salt.

“What, you’re jealous of a little girl?” Tony asks.

She smacks her lips. “She’s not little…and let’s go!” she demands.

“Go sit down!” he snaps.

A blush creeps up her neck as she casts her venomous stink eye on me. “Well, how much longer? I’m ready to go.”

She’s rude and has been jealous of me since she saw me. It’s obvious Uncle Tony wants her, because he’s willing to deal with her crazy-jealous-bullshit outburst.

“Natalia, in a minute. Go sit down.”

She stomps her stiletto in protest and turns to go back inside, but he grabs her hand and kisses her on the lips.

She melts and doesn’t bother with me anymore; she’s won. And I’m playing games with my own heart by prolonging this, so I give up.

“Well, you should go,” I say after she slips back inside.

He looks at me, startled by the quiver in my voice, his eyes wide with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m good. She’s waiting for you, so go.”

The sting in my eyes turns to pools of fire.