Arizona Allspice

By Renee Lewin

He's waited for her since the first moment he saw her in the school halls.
High school's over.
Will his patience run out?

To twenty-year-old Elaine Roberts, the red-headed soccer jock Joey Kinsley is a hot-tempered womanizer with a maddening ability to catch her eye. In Joey's eyes, Elaine is an intelligent, unattainable, military boot donning beauty whose skin color he affectionately compares to the aromatic allspice powder. Joey fears for her safety when, without hesitation, Elaine becomes caregiver to her mentally unstable father after her mother passes away. Joey is the only one who knows the secret Elaine's mother took to the grave. A scuffle between Joey and Elaine's twin brother, Manny, escalates into a catastrophe that separates the Roberts family. As Elaine fights to reunite her family, she learns the history and depth of Joey's admiration and must face that the lives of her brother and father, as well as her own, will have to change in order for love to grow.
Author Renee Lewin's debut novel (a. k. a. author Renee LaRuse)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renee LaRuse
• Release date: Dec 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310683190

Book preview

ARIZONA ALLSPICE

By Renee Lewin

Copyright 2013 Renee Lewin

Smashwords Edition

ReneeRomance Books

http://www.ReneeRomance.com

All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without written permission from the publisher.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover Design: ReneeRomance Book Design, Renee Lewin

Cover Photo: © SXC; ‘Antique Star’ by rpichler; ‘Flowers of cactus’ by c_mackow

DEDICATION

To my family:

Daddy, Azucar, Cha Cha, the Big Guys, and Mom

*****

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

ONE

Holding up my blue Chinese parasol, I shaded my eyes from the sun. I adjusted my square glasses, their thin frames two-toned purple and black, and watched as Raul steadied his eyes on the ball. Raul’s right leg pulled back and then swung forward. I’d seen him do it dozens of times before, yet each time I was captivated by the movement of the muscles beneath his bronze skin and by his jet black hair dripping with sweat. Raul teased me about my glasses all the time. I got into the habit of wearing them during high school. He called me his murciélagita, his little bat. Sometimes he joked that I’m batty like my father. He often forgot how hard it was to take care of my dad. The few people still in my life forgot that. Raul said it was because I made it look so easy.

There was the unmistakable sound of his sneaker making contact with the leather exterior of the black and white ball. His power transferred. The ball arched through the hot air. Everyone’s eyes followed its flight path. The goalie leaped. His distance came up short. The ball hit the back of the goal and everyone around me cheered. Even Manny yelled and whistled beside me. I remained seated, but I was grinning.

On the other side of the field I heard some of the opposing team’s fans grumbling and cursing, furious over lost bets. I spotted Joey on one end of the field ripping his red t-shirt off, exposing his tanned chest and abs, as well as his freckled shoulders. He balled up the shirt and hurled it to the ground. The sweat had made his red hair darken. I watched his tantrum, mesmerized. He spit onto the team shirt, further soiling it after grinding dirt into it with his cleat.  He brought a balled up fist to pound once at his chest before storming off the field and down the road toward his trailer.

His teammates urged him not to take it so hard. They knew, however, not to be too adamant in trying to settle him. It would only make him angrier. His display of tarnishing his team shirt was not in any way a direct insult to his team. They knew that. Joey was their captain, their most passionate teammate. They called him El Fuego: The Fire. I personally preferred to call him El Pinturero: The Showoff. Joey stuck out like a sore thumb, being the only white guy on either team that day and he was also tall. I was sure he loved the feeling of everybody noticing him. Joey was on team Las Chupasangres: The Bloodsuckers. Thus, the red team color. Raul was on team La Tormenta: The Storm. Their team color was silver.

Raul jogged over to me shirtless and smirking. "¿Tú miras El Fuego? Es loco. Seriously."

I nodded as for a moment my eyes followed the little trail of black hair that started from Raul’s navel and disappeared into the front of his soccer shorts. The smirk widens on in in his face.  I knew he would tease me about it later, retelling the ongoing joke of me eventually breaking down and letting him be my first. He had never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. We’d been dating unofficially for two years straight and I still had my virginity. What other guy would stay after they realized I wouldn’t give in to their lust? Raul was very dear to me, so I didn’t listen to the crap that people like Joey had to say about him.

 I’m gonna go talk to Marisol, Raul said. I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay Mami?

Okay, I answered. I watched him walk over to Marisol. She smiled and her eyes roamed over his body. I couldn’t blame her. Raul raised a hand and playfully nudged her under the chin. She smiled and smoothed down the long curly ponytail that draped her left shoulder. I saw her glossed lips moving as she talked. She looked up at him with hazel eyes lined with black eyeliner and her baby hair was gelled down around her hairline, framing her face. She sat in a lawn chair with her smooth legs crossed, wearing flip flops, a jean mini skirt and a tank top. Raul’s eyes slid down her petite caramel body. He leaned down to whisper something into her ear. I quickly looked away. Why did he have to be so obvious about it? Holding my folded chair and my parasol, I headed home to Dad who’d wake up from his nap soon.

I spotted my brother Manny chatting with others in the crowd walking home from the field. I try to catch up with him. I looked down at my feet as I walked. I wore black steel-toed boots, not flip flops. I wore fitted jeans tucked into them, not a mini skirt. I wore a t-shirt and a jean vest, not a low cut tank top. I licked my drying lips; there was no gloss or lipstick. I combed back strands of my black hair with my fingers to put them back into my bun and adjusted my glasses behind my ear. I’d worn that uniform for five years. It was me and I didn’t apologize.

I caught up to Manny and he looked over at me and smiled. At five foot eight we stood eye to eye. I grasped onto his hand and he swung it back and forth just like he’d done since elementary school. I laughed as he swung our arms faster and higher until I thought it’d begin to hurt but he slowed down, like always, released my hand and put his arm across my shoulder as we walked. He sighed. Don’t be mad, but Joey is coming over for a beer later.

I rolled my eyes. I hate you hanging out with him.

I know.

He’s a bad influence.

I’m not a child.

You’re not old enough to drink.

I look old enough to buy it and I’m man enough to handle it.

You mean you’re the one buying the beer?

Yeah. So?

I smacked him on the back of his head. He simply laughed and lazily rubbed at the spot with his long fingers, his fingertips running over the prickly waves of his fresh fade. The shadows from my parasol fell as diagonal lines along the side of his smooth shaven face. Emanuel Roberts! You don’t have to be like the rest of the guys in this town. Don’t let people convince you of something you don’t want to do because the next day they’ll get bored of it and convince you of something worse.

"Laney, I’m going to enjoy a couple beers with a friend in my house, under the supervision of my overprotective twin sister! I’m not going to get wasted and hop into my truck. I promise."

I sighed. Okay. Maybe I’m being overdramatic, but you know how I feel about Joey. Frankly, he’s scary, nosy, rude, and conceited. He probably has autographed pictures of himself hung up in his locker at work.

Wow, he shook his head with a smirk.

Are you trying to tell me I’m wrong?

Yes, once again, I am telling you you’re wrong. You’ve never really seen his good side. I wish you would give him a chance.

The fact that you’ve been friends with this guy for months and I have yet to see his good side probably means he doesn’t have one.

Laney, you and I think alike. I wouldn’t hang out with someone you couldn’t ever like. He just hasn’t let his guard down around you completely yet. Why would he when you always give him attitude? Give him a break, okay?

I shrugged my shoulders as we climbed the steps to our trailer home. We found Dad sitting on a bar stool on the opposite side of the trailer smoking a cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the screened window and mumbling to himself. I hated seeing him smoke and I hated him smoking in the house, but he was afraid to go outside and smoking cigarettes calmed him down.

******

You remember Joey? Don’t you Dad? Manny asked, even though Joey had come over many times before. Dad simply nodded. We had to introduce him to visitors, even if he’d seen them ten times before, because his memory wasn’t what it used to be and his suspicion often took over.

Manny and Joey sat on the couch drinking and watching an old Steven Seagal movie. I was itching to get up and leave. I had been watching television before Joey arrived and I was so disturbed by his presence that I had goose bumps on my arms. I wasn’t about to let him control my actions in my own home so I stayed put on the couch when he walked in. Joey had the decency to politely say hello, but not enough to sit on the other side of Manny. Instead he sat right next to me. His body heat radiated, warming my goose pimpled skin. He glanced at me. Surprisingly, he said nothing. He returned his eyes to the television and took a long swig from his beer. The gray shirt he was wearing with his jeans was tight around his biceps and hung close across his chest.

Though he tried to act unfazed by my displeasure, I noticed that his other hand is clenched tight. Was he imagining hitting me? I had reason to believe that he was a woman beater.  His reputation with half the girls in town started in high school. He had girls of every shape, size, and color and almost every one cried when, predictably, he left them. Apparently he made quite an impression on them and I figured that impression was physical in more ways than one. There was no way in hell that Joey, the volatile hothead, was having these girls cry over him for being a sweetheart.

It was scary seeing girls crying in the hallway or in the cafeteria or in class, girls that clearly had gone out with Joey. Much gossip surrounded each one of his relationships and added to his reputation. Even scarier was that some of the girls he dumped didn’t cry at all. They quite happily let him go, even giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek to send him on his way, off to another chick. He appeared to have this power over most of the girls in town, which wasn’t too hard since most of the girls were so simple it was laughable. His influence was unsettling. Plus, he began making smart remarks to me about Raul and commenting on things that didn’t concern him, telling Manny he could still go to college or that I shouldn’t be left alone to watch my father. What the hell did he know about loyalty to your father? Joey’s father wasn’t even in his life.

I stared uninterested at the movie, glancing over at my dad every once in a while to make sure he was okay. I could tell by his body language if something was brewing in his mind. His shoulders would slump over like a gargoyle and his eyebrows would furrow as he shook his head back and forth or tapped his foot feverishly. He was still sitting on the stool smoking his cigarettes. He was calm.

I heard a sound like someone tapping a stick on an empty Campbell’s soup can. Dread pulled the warmth from my skin. Was I hearing things like Daddy did? Things that weren’t really there? The sound got louder and finally Manny, Joey, and Dad turned their attentions away from the television. The windows started to rattle. I stood up along with Joey and parted the curtains with a nervous hand. Elementary school boys were encircling our house, giggling and running and smacking fists or sticks against the steel siding of the trailer. Joey stormed outside. When the boys saw him in the doorway their little jaws dropped.

What do you think you bastards are doing?

Joe Kinsley, they whispered, astonished. Most of the kids ran but a few were too scared to move. We did it on a d-dare. They dared us to tag Crazy Eddie’s house, one of the boys stammered. We’re real sorry.

Who dared you?

"The Tormentas."

Let your friends know, if you mess with the Roberts, you mess with Joey Kinsley! he roared. My mouth fell open at his declaration.

Now get out of here!

The little boys ran for their lives and disappeared behind various trailers. Neighbors were peeping outside their windows. All the commotion startled my father and he began pacing the house, looking through all the windows for any more kids.

Manny, Joey, and I stood on the front porch scanning the area. Manny and Joey walked past me to go back inside. Felipe, a little boy who lived in the trailer adjacent to us, walked out of his house tossing a baseball in the air. I waved at him and he smiled and waved back. I turned around to find my dad running out of the house toward me. I put my hands up and onto his shoulders to push him back. Get away! he screamed at Felipe. Leave my family alone!

Dad! I pleaded for his attention while desperately trying to hold him back. Manny bounded out of the house toward us. Poor Felipe ran away frightened.

Dad looked from a retreating Felipe to me. "You’re keeping communication with Them aren’t you?"

Manny grabbed Dad by the arms, pulling him backward toward the house. I saw you make a signal. You signaled those boys as a distraction, didn’t you!

No Daddy. I would never do that.

Manny struggled to get Dad up the stairs, but Dad wouldn’t cooperate. Joey stood in the doorway watching. Dad maneuvered out of Manny’s grip and rushed toward me again. My father must have misjudged the distance between us and the speed he was going. He didn’t mean to crash into me. I fell backwards and scraped my palm on the concrete at the foot of the front steps.

Then Joey was on him. With his arms wrapped tight around Dad’s midsection, he picks him up and tossed him back into the house. I’m sorry, I heard Dad whimper. I thought she, I thought she...

I stood up with Manny’s help and we rushed back into the house, quickly locking the door behind us.

It’s okay, Dad. I know you didn’t mean it, I said.

Joey grabbed my hand to examine it. The heel of my palm was bleeding. He held up my hand so Manny could see it and then gently released my wrist. This is the shit I’m talkin’ about Manny!

Manny lowered his eyes as if guilty. 

Joey turned to me. And you heard what that kid said, Elaine. Raul, your boyfriend, and his boys sent those kids over here. Are you just going to let this continue?

How dare he criticize my brother, my boyfriend, and me when he had no idea what we were going through? Who was he to criticize me?

Get out of my house, you bully. Get out! I yelled at him.

Joey stared at me with a bit of surprise in his cold blue eyes. His gaze made me swallow, but I stood firm. He broke the stare, walked over to the coffee table and picked up his beer. Gulping it down, he walked past me and out the front door. I clenched my fists as a breeze of his warm, soapy scent filled my nose. Through the window, I saw him toss the empty bottle into the garbage can by the park office building as he walked down the dirt road.  

I’ll get you something for your hand, Laney, Manny mumbled and headed to the bathroom.

Raul’s friends may have sent those kids but not Raul. He had nothing to do with the dare. Although my dad wasn’t as easy to handle as I made him out to be, he was what was left of my father. Every now and then my real father would shine through and I would never betray that man by sending him away to an institution. Never.

I walked over and rubbed Dad’s back to calm him and to let him know that I accepted his apology. Manny entered the room with some bandages for my hand. He seemed to be in deep thought. 

He didn’t mean it, I said.

Manny speaks in a low voice. I know but…this wasn’t the first time he’s gotten out of control. I wish I could say this’ll be the last.

*****

TWO

My family fell apart two years ago.

Restless, I sat in my third period English honors class. There were only a few weeks of my senior year left and I couldn’t wait to escape the impound known as Lorenzo High School. I had no friends there. I found the people who didn’t live in Merjoy Mobile Park snobby, and those who did live in my neighborhood were rude and jealous. My father owned the park in those days, and because I felt no need to seek out the acceptance of my peers, I was labeled stuck up from the very first day of high school. I really wasn’t full of myself back then, just uninterested in everyone’s immature social politics. After freshman year, however, I definitely looked down on most of them. It was the natural result of them stooping as incredibly low as they did to terrorize my family and me after ‘the rent thing’.  

I was absentmindedly twirling a pen between my fingers when the principal’s voice came over the intercom system. Emanuel and Elaine Roberts please report immediately to the principal’s office.  Emanuel and Elaine Roberts. Thank you.

I’d never been called out of class to go the principal’s office in my life, and not only did he call me, he called my brother, too. Everyone in class looked at me curiously. The pen I was twirling ceremoniously fell from my hand, rolled down the surface of the desk, and fell at my boots.

Um, I guess that’s me, I murmured. My teacher Mrs. Warson nodded. I shoved my things into my backpack and left the room, almost slipping on my pen on the ground, and went down the hallway in the direction of Manny’s class. As I neared the door, Manny came walking out with his backpack dragging along the ground. His worried brown eyes were a mirror image of mine. We proceeded to the other side of the school and to the principal’s office.  Principal Wright, an unfortunate pot-bellied man who was probably colorblind because he wore lime green ties with burgundy shirts, was standing behind his desk. He scratched at his chins.

Your father called. I think its best you guys get home as fast as you can. It sounded like an emergency.

What happened? Emanuel asked.

Principal Wright shrugged and shook his head, blinking. He just said they took her away, they took her. He kept repeating that.

My stomach was in knots but it didn’t slow my pace. Manny and I raced to his truck in the student parking lot and sped to Merjoy. It’s Mom, isn’t it? I asked during the ride.

Let’s pray, okay? Manny suggested.

So I bowed my head. I said my ‘Amen’ just as we pulled up to the house. My dad was pacing the living room and wringing the hem of his shirt. Elaine! Manny! You’re okay! Oh man, They took her! He ran to me and grabbed me by my black jean vest. He searched my eyes as if not sure I was really his daughter. Did They talk to you?

Manny and I were in such shock over our father’s behavior that neither of us made a move to get his hands off of me.

I said did They talk to you? Did They brief you! Afraid, I could only shake my head. He calmed and his grip loosened. Okay. I figure they would try to coerce my baby girl but you stayed strong. I have to stay one step ahead. One step ahead.

Dad? Manny finally spoke. Let go of Elaine now.

Oh, he removed his hands, There you are, Sweetie. All better.

Where’s Mom? Manny asked.

I tensed as Dad neared me again. This time he put his arm around both of us and wept. She collapsed and the EMT impersonators took her away! I didn’t go with her because I knew what they wanted to do to me and I was afraid they came and took you guys too. I had to stay to make sure you guys were safe.

The silence as Manny drove was crushing. The quiet gave me too much opportunity to think the worst.

My mother always made sure the whole family ate dinner together. She cooked the best dinners and she always baked the gooiest desserts. It’s a wonder our family wasn’t all overweight. I guess since the whole family helped out in keeping the trailer park clean and in working order we burned those calories off. Over dinner, Mom would get us to talk about our day, Dad talking about work and Manny and I talking about school. She would always crack jokes to make us laugh if we had a bad day.

Don’t worry about Mrs. Warson, she would smile. She’s just grumpy because she’s getting up there in years. If she says something rude in class, just smile politely at her. Show her the teeth she wishes she still had.

Every night, without fail, Dad would bring up one of his conspiracy theories. Things like UFOs and the Bermuda Triangle. You heard about the government’s Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment back in 1930 and up until the seventies, right? Well, I know for a fact the government is conducting its own experimental testing of viruses and bacteria on hospital patients who are under anesthesia, all to develop methods of biological warfare. It’s happening here in the present and they’re not just testing things on black people now. Anyone’s fair game.

My mom, my brother and I, would groan or joke that his obsession with conspiracies had come from living too long in a trailer park. Sometimes he would get fervent about the conspiracies or really irritated that we didn’t take him seriously. My mom would then say that he’d better go take his blood pressure medicine and calm down. He’d saunter into the bathroom to take the pills he kept in the cabinet. I later found out those pills weren’t for his high blood pressure. They were for his sickness, the delusions and suspicions that were plaguing him. My mother knew all along.

For the first time in my life, when I witnessed Dad’s behavior after Mom was rushed to the hospital, I’d seen my dad for who he really was. I, who believed so strongly in not being superficial, saw that my life, my family, had been a sham.

What happened to Mom?

Did Dad hurt her?

What do we have now? Who do we have now?

I asked myself those questions as we drove to Duncan, our neighboring city, where my mother was taken. We ran into the hospital. We’d been running for hours, it seemed. We reached the hallway adjacent to the emergency room.

Mama? I whispered. I latched on to my brother’s arm. I could hear my pulse in my ears as my mother was swarmed by nurses and doctors.

Are you her family members? A doctor asked. We’re going to have to take her into surgery, the doctor continued. She’s had a heart attack and the EBCT scan showed a very blocked artery. She’s probably had heart disease for some time now. We’re going to do the best we can to stent that artery before the damage to the heart muscle is irreparable.

I watched as the quiet shell of my mother was wheeled away, her body snaked with tubes from her arms, her chest, her mouth and nose. Manny and I only got a chance to brush a hand along her arm as she was whisked past. I felt something I didn’t think I’d feel: anger. My brother and I didn’t deserve this. My father was not my father. He was a stranger to me. My mother had lied to us and now at the age of 41 she could die and leave me with no answers, when I needed her the most, to see me off to college, to make us dinner and to love us, to help me when I get married and have children, to cheer us up when we were down, when I was falling. I was falling and darkness fell over the hospital room.

When I woke up I was sitting in the hallway on the cold tile floor of the hospital, my back leaning against Manny and his arms around me. When I turned to look at him, he began to sob. Don’t ever faint on me like that again! I can’t lose you too, he sniffled. She’s gone, Elaine. When I heard him say those words I couldn’t cry. I hated myself for ever being angry with my mother in her last moments. I didn’t deserve to let any of the pain go by allowing myself to shed any tears.

Marna Elaine Roberts

A Mother, a Wife, an Angel

November 9, 1967 - June 3, 2010

Manny and I never discussed it; the falsehood of our family. We both knew our mom was dead and our dad was schizophrenic and neither one of us would be leaving Cadence, Arizona to go to college. We needed to stick together and take care of our father.

Our school allowed us to graduate, thanks to Raul who volunteered to bring me my work as well as Manny’s. He even watched our dad for a few hours while we took final exams. Like I said, Raul had been very helpful. I didn’t understand Manny’s problem with him. He never really accepted or understood my relationship with Raul. Neither did his over-opinionated friend Joey Kinsley.

Manny and I had known Joey since high school, but neither of us were friends with him, until five or six months ago when the two started working together at the PiCo Automotive Factory. I wasn’t friends with Joey, but I knew him. Everyone knew Joey. With his soccer skills, his lady-killer reputation, and his infamous bouts of rage with the fiery red hair and steel blue eyes to match, how could he go unnoticed? It was obvious why Joey didn’t like Raul.  Everyone in town knew Raul, too, so he was Joey’s competition for the limelight.

I could smell Joey’s desperation from a mile away. The way he pined for me to adore him like every other girl in town did. It disgusted me that he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that I didn’t want to be in his entourage. I couldn’t even understand why Manny was friends with Joey. All they did was bicker with each other anyway.

*****

THREE

You still like that girl?

Joey, you know how I am about Denise, I answered. It’s been four years and I haven’t given up on her. I just need to get her to open up her mind and forget about what her Dad thinks. I pulled off my gloves. I know she’s just scared.

Joey pulled off his gloves and safety goggles and we started walking to the locker room. We both shoved our gloves and goggles into the back pockets of our dirty blue jumpsuits. At the sinks, we lathered and scrubbed at our fingers in unison and then splashed water onto our faces, rinsing the sweat and smudges away. I think you should move on, Joey said while toweling his hands and face.

Are you kidding? I explained how it was impossible to just ‘move on’ without getting some kind of closure on the history Denise and I shared. We walked to our side-by-side lockers, stripped off our work jumpsuits and began changing into clean clothes. You understand what I mean? I finished my speech as I slipped my arms into my shirt. Don’t you? I asked when Joey didn’t answer. I looked up to see that Joey hadn’t been listening to me. Apparently he was more interested in his own handsome face.

******

I glanced into the mirror that hung in my locker. I smoothed a hand over my hair, the tips of my fingers running over the florid, medium length curls. I looked into my own blue eyes and then down at my nose. I had faint freckles there. I looked at his shoulders in the mirror where my tendency to freckle was quite visible. The freckles across my nose and cheeks didn’t bother me as much. And my lips…I didn’t feel like they fit the masculine features of my face, my strong chin and nose. Maybe if my lips weren’t so pink and didn’t have so much of a Cupid’s Bow then maybe she’d… I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth…

******

 "Hey! Cabrón! Stop admiring yourself already so I can have a two-sided conversation here."

Sorry. Joey snapped out of the spell and pulled a white t-shirt over his head. Yeah, I think you should move on. It’s been a while and Denise’s dad isn’t going to suddenly not be a racist drunk.

But, sometimes Denise says things that make me certain she wants me to be there for her.

She just says stuff, you know, because she knows you like her. Denise is going through some mess with her dad right now so she might say things to you just because she feels lonely at the time.

I raised my eyebrows. And how do you know all that?

Joey averted his gaze down to the belt he was looping through his jeans. I’ve heard some things around the neighborhood, that’s all.

Besides, I noted as I finished buttoning up my shirt, "isn’t it hypocritical of you to tell me to move on? You’ve been a secret admirer for just as long. At least I’ve given it a chance by telling Denise how I feel."

Yeah, and neither of us have what we want, do we? Joey slammed his locker closed. I followed behind him, heading out of the locker room and out the door into the parking lot. Manny, why don’t you spend some time on getting your sister out of that house with your abusive lunatic father instead of trollin’ for ass!

I really care about Denise but there is no way in hell I care about her more than my sister! You…you are a hurtful angry bastard sometimes, you know that? This is exactly why Laney doesn’t want me hangin’ out with you! You shoot off at the mouth! You’ve got no self control!

Joey winced. I’m working on it, okay! I’m working on it! Just… He shook his head with his eyes clenched shut. He took several slow deep breaths to calm down. When he felt the heat at his neck and face dissipate, he blinked his eyes open. I don’t want to be like this all the time, Manny. You know I don’t want to.

"Yes. And you know how it is trying to keep what’s left of my family together and that I’m working on it."

I’m sorry, man. I get worried about her sometimes.

Apology accepted Superman. Always trying to save the damsels in distress. Now let’s go pick up some drinks and chill at your house. I got a present for you.

Joey smiled. Another story?

Yup, another one. She lent it to me this morning. It’s in the truck.

Joey jogged over to my black F-150. I routinely gave Joey a ride to and from work. Joey was hired at the factory six months earlier. His temper, however, made it difficult for him to be placed within the company so he was tossed from one department to another like a problem foster child. Everyone could see Joey was bright because he could learn everything so fast. It took him two days to understand the assembly line while it took other employees at least a week of training. His various supervisors were ecstatic with his progress and then baffled by the anger he spewed when he made an inconsequential mistake.

One day, Joey had an exceptionally bad fit that resulted in PiCo docking most of his paycheck as reimbursement for the automotive parts he had attacked with a blowtorch. Joey struck up an initially awkward conversation with me which became a fifteen-minute long confessional. That day we formulated a plan. My end of the deal was to use my supervisor position to get him another job. Joey’s end of the deal would be invaluable to both Elaine and I if it succeeded, and it could only work if Elaine knew nothing about it.

I stepped up into the truck to find Joey searching all over for the journal. In the glove box. Joey quickly opened the glove compartment and pulled out the brown leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages to the most recent entry. A little smile crossed Joey’s face as his eyes scanned the page. It was a quiet ride since Joey was enthralled with the journal. Sometimes I wondered how Joey and I were able to be friends. I was a reserved math nerd and Joey was a jock and very high strung. We argued. A lot. But I supposed we balanced each other out in the end. Plus, I was enjoying the planning and conspiring, and secret trafficking of Elaine’s journal. It was fun. And it was for a good cause.

I pulled up to the convenience store. I didn’t need to ask whether Joey was going to come with him. I left him to read in the truck and walked into the store that was located next to the local bar. I waved at Mr. Jeremy, the owner, and then went to the refrigerated section. Looking through the frosty glass door, my eyes fell on a case of beer I wanted. I heard the chime of the bell above the front door. I thought it was Joey walking in but instead I glimpsed Raul and his soccer crew entering. Raul sauntered straight to the deli and dining area along with his buddies.

I opened the walk-in refrigerator and grabbed the case of beer. As soon as I stepped back out I could hear their loud laughter. I stood in the aisle holding the case as Raul’s voice cut though me like a knife.

"Elaine? Yeah I’ve known her for years. She acts tough but she ain’t. Ella es una facilona, really."

All his buddies laughed. "I figured she was easy. They usually are, those negritas," one of them said.

Yeah, she’s real, um, generous to me, know what I mean? Raul laughed. She let me have her all kind of ways. Raul’s boys laughed, whistled, or pounded on the tables. "I’m talkin’ to Marisol now, too, and a couple other chicitas and she know about all of them. But you guys don’t be trying to hit on my girl. Seriously, if you talk to her I’ll break you in two."

I was so angry I couldn’t speak. Raul cared about Elaine. That’s what was so frustrating. He lit up when he was around her. Then Raul would do these things and say these things that just went completely against that. It infuriated me! There was nothing I could do about Raul sleeping around because Laney was strangely nonchalant about that, but if I told Elaine about this…She’d better listen.

For a tense moment I wished I could conjure fury the way Joey did. Or at least have the muscle.  If I kicked Raul’s teeth in, however, Elaine would be extremely upset. I could just hear her say You have to be the good guy, Manny. Don’t be like the others. I walked up to Mr. Jeremy at the counter to pay for the beer.

You know, I don’t sell beer to those guys over there, Jeremy said pointing his chin towards where the Tormentas were sitting. They can git it somewhere else. I only sell it to the responsible kids. You alright. Takin’ care of your family, thas good.  

I nodded, knowing that Mr. Jeremy felt sorry for me; Deceased mother, ill father, stuck here in thirsty Cadence. But most of all, Mr. Jeremy wanted to buy the trailer park from my family. I looked over and got a clear view of Raul laughing with his boys.

Raul’s smiling eyes slid away from his friends to see me standing at the counter. The filthy smirk fell from his face. I could see the thoughts going through Raul’s head, wondering if I’d heard him earlier. I glared at him and nodded. Once Raul realized he’d been exposed, the corner of his top lip curled in anger. If he thought a menacing look with a silent threat was going to keep me quiet he was wrong.

Guess who I saw in the convenience store.

Who? Joey asked distractedly as he sat cross-legged in the passenger seat, buried in the journal. As I told Joey what occurred, Joey’s face got redder and redder. I’m going to kill him!

Wait! No! I grabbed for Joey’s arm but he had already shot out of the truck and was