Carlos walked through the restaurant, then into a private area in the back of the building.
Chico’s security personnel stopped him, frisked him, relieved him of his electronic devices. They were handpicked former-military personnel who were utterly single-minded and ruthless about protecting their boss. He knew them all, and passed time by asking about their families.
Finally the leader gave him a quick nod, and stepped back to let him pass into the next room. He waited politely in the doorway until Chico glanced up from his cheerful laptop conversation, and motioned him over. Despite coming from an earlier generation, the older man had adapted easily to new technologies, and expected his employees to do the same.
“Carlos!” Smiling, he stood and embraced his protégé. “It’s good to see you again! I was just talking with my niece. She’s at Berkeley, studying finance. I hope she’ll come work for me when she graduates…but I don’t think she will,” he admitted, ruefully shaking his head. “She likes California too much.”
Carlos chuckled. “It’s impossible to predict a woman’s actions. She’ll probably change her mind a million times before she graduates, then come home to work for ‘Tio’ after all.”
That made Chico laugh, and clap him on the shoulder. “You are correct, as usual.” He was just about to continue when two waiters entered the room, and laid aromatic platters of food on the table. Carlos’ mouth watered as he surveyed the feast. The ‘Mexican’ food in Texas was good, but it was only a pale imitation of authentic Mexican food. He could hardly wait to eat.
As soon as the waiters left, Chico motioned at the table. “This is not Taco Bell, Carlos. Eat and enjoy!”
“Muchas gracias, Chico.”
They both filled their plates with fresh homemade tortillas and a variety of delectable foods. Then Chico broached the topic Carlos had come to discuss. “The Blades,” he said angrily. “Tell me everything.”
“Everything is progressing well,” the younger man assured him. “The Blades remain under surveillance. I’ve had people watching every aspect of their operation since our last conversation.”
That was good; they needed more information before they could move forward. Thoughtfully he sipped his beer, and gestured for Carlos to continue.
“Isabel has successfully integrated three more women into their distribution system. All are loyal to us. None of them are using drugs, and so far, they’ve been able to convince the Blades that they just need the money. If any of them starts using, I’ll remove them myself.”
Chico firmly nodded. “Our people must stay clean.”
“Si. I agree. I’ve made that clear to Isabel, and she’s made it clear to the other women.” He sat back and considered his mentor. “We’ve located their most commonly used customers, and the locations where they usually drop off their Meth. I’ve had people watch those locations. We need to know their customers, because eventually they will become our customers.”
“Excellent!” Chico smiled, and leaned forward. “Good thinking. When do you think we’ll be ready?”
“Soon, Chico. Very soon.” He resisted the impulse to gleefully rub his hands together. “I will need men.”
“How many?”
“Probably thirty to forty. They all need to speak English, too. I want them looking like field workers…that’s important because no one pays attention to field workers in Texas,” he explained when Chico raised a questioning eyebrow. “They are invisible, and can move freely.”
“That’s a lot of men, Carlos.”
“True, but we need to hit the Blades quickly. This can’t be a war. It has to be one decisive battle. If we give them time to react, they’ll call for help from other biker gangs, or they’ll move to protected positions,” he insisted. “We need to remove as many members as possible before they realize what’s going on. That means moving fast, and using the confusion to our advantage.”
When Chico briskly nodded, he released a silent sigh of relief. “Bueno. I will see it done.”
“Gracias.”
“We will move them north slowly, probably two at a time,” Chico decided. “They can stay in our safe houses in Austin and San Antonio. I’ll have them contact you when they’re in position. You will determine the time and place to use them.”
Carlos’ smile widened. “We will succeed. Their leader calls himself Lobo. I will bring you his leather jacket…and I will deliver Rowdy to you personally.”
“No.” Chico’s teeth flashed whitely against his bronzed skin. “I will come north to see Señor Rowdy. When you have him, I want you to take him to the ranch.”
“You will see him. I promise.”
“Gracias, Carlos.”
“Tim? Earth to Tim! Come in, Tim!”
LeAnn’s playful voice yanked him out of his trance, and he blinked when her hand waved in front of his face. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second. Where were we?”
“Somewhere between stock splits, stock buybacks, and dividend payments,” she reminded him with a weary sigh.
He groaned. “How long have we been at this?”
“Four hours after class last night and…” She glanced at the clock on the adjoining wall. “…another four and a half hours this morning.”
He shook his head to clear away cobwebs. “It’s all starting to run together,” he said tiredly. “Studying for the CPA exam really sucks!”
They were doing so well in their last class that they’d cornered their professor and asked him to help them prepare for the exam. Since he’d taught the last several classes, and knew how hard they were trying, he’d agreed.
Even qualifying to take the test was difficult, and the exam itself would be a nightmare. They’d bumped up their study schedule, spent most of last night poring over facts and figures, and then met again this morning for extra practice.
No reason not to, he thought resentfully. Crystal didn’t come home last night, and she probably won’t get back before late afternoon today.
She’d texted him last night that she was too tired to drive home, and was getting a hotel room. He knew from experience that she wouldn’t be home until at least noon, so why not make plans to study with LeAnn? The local Starbucks opened early, and had no problem with them spreading their books across the big corner table.
“How about calling it a day?” LeAnn suggested. “The material is all running together for me, too, and I don’t think we’re getting anywhere now.”
“I agree.”
“You and Crystal have any plans today?”
“No.” Then he groaned, and slapped the side of his head. “Shit, I forgot I turned my phone off! She’s gonna be pissed,” he added when he fished the phone out of his pocket, powered it on again, and saw that he had several voicemails.
“Why would she be pissed?”
He sighed. “She’s always pissed about something, or tired, or unbelievably happy. I can’t keep track of her mood swings.”
LeAnn watched as he shoved his books into his well-worn backpack. “I’m here if you feel like talking,” she murmured.
“Thanks. Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, “I forgot to ask about your date. How’d it go?”
She giggled, and rolled her eyes. “He was…um… How do I say it? Really proud of being an FBI agent.”
Tim blinked in confusion. “Isn’t that cool?”
“Really, really proud,” she elaborated with a mocking grin. “It was all he talked about. He mentioned it when we met at the restaurant, and talked about the FBI Academy during the appetizers. All through dinner he talked about the cases he’s working on, and the criminals he’s helped convict. By dessert, I thought his name was Special Agent.” She mimed sticking a finger down her throat and gagging.
He laughed, but couldn’t quite crush the surge of jealousy that filled him at the thought of LeAnn seeing someone else.
“I swear, Tim,” she continued, trying to sound severe, “he probably has FBI tattooed somewhere on his body. I’m not kidding!”
That made him laugh again. “Well, it’s good that you’re dating,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Yeah, that’s what my mom says, too,” she said with a neutral shrug. “I guess she’s right.”
“You don’t enjoy dating?”
“No, not really.” She managed a smile. “It always feels so forced and awkward. Besides, all the good ones are taken,” she added, winking at him.
Chuckling, he rolled his eyes. “I know that’s bullshit.”
Their eyes met, and they hastily looked aside. Then she stood and hugged him goodbye. Since he only lived a few minutes away, he’d be home in no time.
After he’d left, she sat back down and finished her coffee. The pages in front of her might have been blank; her thoughts were turned inward and focused on Tim.
The good ones are taken, but hopefully not for much longer.
Crystal’s car was in the driveway when he pulled in. Tim frowned a little. He’d considered calling her on the way home, but there hadn’t seemed any point. What mood would she be in today?
Taking a deep breath, he slung his backpack over one shoulder, and hurried into the trailer.
“Crystal?” The shower was running, so he headed back and tried the bathroom door. Locked. So much for surprising her in the shower. I guess sex is out of the question.
Which Crystal came home this morning? The loving and tender woman who still wants to be my wife? The irritable and short-tempered woman who can’t stand being around me, and everything I do pisses her off? The tired woman who just wants to sleep, and promises she’ll have sex with me later?
He settled onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and flipped on the TV. It was playing a movie he liked, but he stared right through it as he waited for the bathroom door to open.
When it did, his heart began pounding.
“Tim?”
So she’d heard the TV. “I’m in the living room,” he said, in a deliberately cheerful voice.
“Be there in a second, baby!”
So she wasn’t angry and irritable today; that was a plus.
She’d pulled on tight-fitting pants and a long-sleeved shirt that buttoned all the way up to her neck. Smiling, she brushed her damp hair back with one hand, and settled down beside him. “I missed you,” she murmured, then gently kissed him and laid her head on his chest.”
He glided a hand over her back. “Missed you, too.”
A few seconds later, he realized she was fast asleep. Tired Crystal, he thought bitterly. So much for getting caught up…on anything.
He eased out from under her, and gently stretched her across the couch. She didn’t even mumble when he slid a pillow under her head, and tucked a light blanket over her limp body.
Apparently she didn’t get much sleep last night, he thought sadly. Did she even stay at the hotel?
It hurt to admit how much things had changed between them. Somehow she’d become a stranger. Still beautiful—still the woman he’d married and loved—but she was harder now, easy to irritate, and she frequently lost her temper with him. She’d lost weight, too, and he couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared a meal. She existed on rice cakes or toast and chips, and washed them down with energy drinks.
Sighing, he turned off the TV, and sat down at the kitchen table to study again. What else could he do? Despite their problems, he didn’t want to leave her alone, and he did want to be there when she woke up.
A smile, he thought. I really just want to see her smile.
The delicious scents of oregano and basil woke Crystal. She drowsily smiled when she realized how Tim had made her comfortable. That’s my Tim.
Real hunger for actual food made her sit up and rake fingers through her hair. When she headed for the bathroom, she checked the time and realized she’d slept for six straight hours. She definitely felt better, but her body was still achy and sore from last night, and she was still tired from her strenuous workout with Jingles.
God, he’s so good in bed!
A Meth craving hit her just inside the door, and she clutched the sink with shaking hands. It was far more powerful than she’d ever experienced before, and the nausea left her feeling even more tired and weak. Wearily she brushed her hair and teeth, and stared at her pale reflection in the mirror.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I just need some Meth. Just a little hit, and I’ll be back to my old self.
Tomorrow night. I can hold out that long.
Tim was cooking spaghetti when she returned to the living room. “That smells great,” she smiled, and settled down at the kitchen table.
He flashed her a bright smile. “My special recipe. You’ve always loved it.”
She watched him move around the kitchen, softly whistling. He always whistled when he was relaxed and happy. Sometimes it was endearing, and sometimes irritating, but it always assured her that he was in a good mood.
“Glass of wine?”
“Sure.” She didn’t especially like wine, and never had. But he was trying so hard that she didn’t want to protest.
He handed her a brimming glass. “It’s supposed to be light and easy to drink. The wine lady said it went great with spaghetti.”
She took a sip to be polite. “It’s great. Good choice.”
It was nice to sit and relax with him, she thought as he set the table, and puttered with plates and bowls. Their trailer wasn’t much, but it was home.
He lit a candle, and slid into the opposite chair. Their eyes met several times as they ate, and they smiled tentatively at each other. It was intimate and awkward at the same time.
Famished, Crystal wolfed down a second big plate of spaghetti. The moment she finished, he jumped up and took her plate.
“Go relax in the living room,” he told her with a smile. “Watch TV or something. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Yes, sir,” she laughed, and obeyed.
Her phone was nearly dead, but she was still able to check her text messages. She sat down on the couch and read the one from Jingles:
Miss you. Hope you’re thinking about me. See you soon.
It made her smile, but she didn’t want Tim asking questions, so she quickly deleted it. She wasn’t ready for that discussion, and he had a lot on his plate right now. Besides, she still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she’d leave him or not.
He was still moving around the kitchen. He’d tried so hard to please her during dinner! It was really cute.
Yeah, right. Cute…like a lost puppy.
Stop it! Damn, bitch! He’s always been there for me!
Frowning, she shook her head and tucked her phone away. She didn’t want to think badly of Tim; it wasn’t fair to him!
“Surprise!”
His gleeful voice startled her, and she gaped up at him in confusion. He was holding a cupcake with a lit candle stuck in it.
Her mouth fell open. “Did I forget something?”
In an instant, his whole demeanor changed; he looked miserable, and his shoulders slumped. Sighing, he put the cupcake on the coffee table. “I guess you really don’t care anymore,” he muttered, slumping down beside her.
“Tim, I’m so sorry! I can explain,” she said quickly…then stopped. “Wait a minute,” she added, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not our anniversary, it’s not Valentine’s Day, and it’s not one of our birthdays.”
Laughing, he jumped up and danced out of her reach. “You jerk!” she yelled, and teasingly threw a pillow at him. “You really had me going!”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, dropping down on the couch again. “I couldn’t resist. I just wanted to do something nice for you, that’s all.” Grinning, he picked up the cupcake and held it out to her. “Go on, make a wish.”
How could she resist him when he was being so sweet? Obligingly she leaned forward and blew out the candle, then peeled back the wrapper. “Hmmmm, it’s good!” she exclaimed through a big mouthful.
“Made it myself, but the frosting came out of a can. And I didn’t actually melt the wax and make the candle,” he confessed, as if he was guilty of some dire crime.
“You didn’t? Then what good are you?” she teased, and finished eating. It really was delicious.
He took the plate, and brought her a glass of milk. She arched a startled eyebrow. “Well, it was either milk or whiskey,” he shrugged. “I took a chance.”
“Milk is fine,” she laughed, and drank half of it before leaning back with a contented sigh.
When he settled down again and turned on the TV, she favored him with another surprised glance. “What, no studying tonight?”
“Stick a fork in me, baby, because I am done!” he exclaimed dramatically. “I’ve been studying almost nonstop for the past twenty-four hours. I need a break. I’m yours for…the next twenty-nine minutes and forty-five seconds.” His lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Then I’m going to hit it again.”
She finished her milk, and took the glass to the sink. When she returned to the living room, she eyed him thoughtfully, then snuggled up beside him. “Y’know, I admire you,” she confided.
He glanced down at her in surprise. “What?”
“I do,” she said softly. “You’ve worked so hard over the last four years to get your degree, and held down a full-time job at the same time. I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“Hasn’t been easy on either one of us,” he admitted. “But it’s almost over. I’ll graduate soon, take the CPA exam, and find a better job.”
“Any prospects?”
“Actually, yes,” he nodded with a proud smile. “There was a job fair at the university the other day. I’ve received calls from three different accounting firms to come in for an interview.”
She sat up. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’ll interview with them over the next few weeks,” he confirmed. “My work experience is a huge help, and they seem very interested. Ready to get out of this trailer?”
“Heck, yes!”
“Me, too.” He looked excited by the prospect. “Y’know, if the interviews go well, I think we’ll be able to buy a house in San Antonio when I finally get hired. Our down-payment fund is in pretty good shape.”
She knew exactly what was coming next, and had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Please don’t start up again for the millionth time…
“We could start a family,” he continued with a smile.
Million and one. Crystal’s lips thinned with frustration. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees as she eased away from him, and favored him with a frosty glare.
“We’ve been through this before,” she said coolly, and raised her hands in silent protest. “I’m not ready to start having children. Why do you keep pushing that on me?”
“I don’t mean to push it on you,” he insisted, “but don’t you think it’s time? I mean, I’ll have a great job, and we’ll finally be in a real house. Jesus, don’t you want to move on in life?”
Her eyes flashed with anger, and she jumped up and stalked away. “Fuck you, Tim. Your idea of ‘moving on’ is to keep me barefoot and pregnant in the fucking kitchen!”
“Fuck me?” He stared at her in disbelief. “I’m not the one taking my clothes off for strangers, Crystal!” He took a deep breath, and struggled to calm himself before continuing, “I don’t want you barefoot and pregnant, but I would like a wife who’s actually interested in starting a family with me. A wife who wants to build a life together.” Still angry, he rose and jabbed a finger at her. “Enough with the party-girl lifestyle…grow the fuck up!”
“Popping out babies while my husband works is growing up?” she sneered. “Fuck you! All you talk about is kids! At least be honest with me, with yourself! You want a little stay-at-home shadow you can show off to your new accountant buddies, then shove her back into the house when you’re done with her. A nice quiet little wife who will raise your kids, support your career, and fuck you every Tuesday!”
“Well, what the fuck do you want? Do you even know?” he demanded. “Not once have you ever said what you want to do…other than stripping, of course! You fucking love being a stripper! Is that what you want, to become a forty-year-old stripper still wearing a thong between her ass cheeks, trying desperately to convince guys to let her bounce on their laps for $20 a song? Great fucking goal, Crystal!”
“God, you are such an asshole!” she snapped, folding both arms across her chest.
He rarely let temper get the best of him, but tonight it lashed out like a knife. “What’s in your life other than stripping?” he taunted. “Drugs? How about drugs? You planning on doing Meth until your looks are gone, your friends are gone, and you end up on the street? That’s where Meth will lead you!”
Her eyes flooded with tears. “Why are you so mean to me?”
“Mean to you?” He goggled at her in disbelieve. “How am I mean to you? I only want the best for you! I want the best for both of us! Why can’t you see that? Why are you so resistive to building a life with me? I’m your fucking husband, for God’s sake!”
Sobbing, she buried her face in her hands. Tim stared at her, and felt his anger drain away. He grabbed a few tissues from the end table, then handed them to her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I lost my temper, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She refused to look at him as she wiped her eyes and dropped back onto the couch. He chose the chair…even though he wasn’t angry anymore, he didn’t want to sit next to her right now. “Crystal,” he said slowly, “do you even still want to be with me?”
When she didn’t answer, his heart dropped. It didn’t seem real to him. He couldn’t be losing her, not this way, not after he’d worked so hard to improve their lives!
“I’m not sure, Tim,” she finally murmured. “It seems like we want different things out of life now. Do you still want to be with me?”
“I do,” he said immediately. “I want to be with you forever.”
“But…?”
“But I want you to stop stripping and taking drugs,” he insisted. “I can deal with the fact that you don’t want kinds. Fine. You can do whatever you want…but you need to stop stripping and taking the drugs. I know you’re still using them, Crystal. I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were an idiot…”
“We don’t need the money anymore,” he interrupted her, “and you definitely don’t need drugs.” Feeling a little desperate, he reached over and touched her shoulder. “Crystal…honey…there’s no reason at all for you to continue stripping. Let it go, and let’s move on with our lives. I promise I won’t push kids on you. You can do anything you want…as long as it’s not stripping.”
He was treating her like an incompetent child…and the fact that he was right only pissed her off more.
He couldn’t be serious about not wanting kids, she decided. If he was serious, she’d have to give up Meth, and she wasn’t ready to face that future. I can’t give up Meth. No way! Meth makes me a better person!
It was a tool, a part of her life. But she controlled it, she assured herself, not the other way around. He didn’t understand it made her better, happy, and put the ‘living’ back in her life.
He wanted to take that away from her. He wanted to stick her in a four-bedroom two-bath prison in the suburbs. She’d be alone again, all by herself, while he was out living his own life.
He just didn’t understand. That was the real problem. Crystal and Meth weren’t the issue; his inability to understand her needs was the issue.
Jingles understands. He gets it. He’s fine with Meth, and has no problems with me stripping. He’s my future now.
“I’m not a child,” she said coldly. “I’m a grown woman, and you’re not my fucking father.”
“Crystal…”
“No! Just stop!” she snapped. “I decide what to do with my time, and I want to continue dancing. I fucking will! And it’s my body!” She jabbed a finger at him again. “If I want to take Meth once in a while, I will. Now stop treating me like a child, and stop acting like you know what’s best for me!”
Wearily he shook his head. “I don’t want to fight, Crystal…I love you. I want you in my life. Can you say the same anymore?”
They stared at each other for several moments, wondering if they were right for each other anymore. Then Crystal waved a dismissive hand. “I’m going to go lie down.” And when Tim started to rise with her, she grated, “Alone.”
He sank back down in the chair, feeling like the entire earth had just shattered at his feet. Black depression reached up and swallowed him whole.
She doesn’t want to be with me anymore. Meth is more important to her than I am.
He’d always been an optimistic sort; even when he’d been unemployed, he’d been able to find the silver lining in most situations. He’d kept his sense of humor, and a bright outlook on life.
He’d loved Crystal as long as he could remember, and he’d won her. They’d been happy for a long time. But now he was losing her, and he just couldn’t understand why. They’d been much closer when they’d been struggling. Now that they were doing better, somehow they’d drifted apart.
How the fuck did this happen? Then he thought, Shane.
It had all started with Shane. Their harmless fantasy, he realized with a sinking jolt, had turned into something ugly.
Having him join them in the bedroom had been fun, and he suspected Crystal had seen him alone a few times, too. But that had ended when Shane had rejoined his motorcycle club…
And that, he realized now, was when the real trouble had begun. Shane had mentioned stripping to Crystal, made it seem glamorous, introduced her to Joe, gotten her a job at his club. Rowdy had been there, too, but Shane had made it all happen.
He’d taken her to the Blades’ barbeque, too, where she’d met Raven. He’d encouraged her to smoke pot, and Tim was certain he was her Meth source.
It all traced back to Shane…and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Shane was part of an outlaw motorcycle club, and he was an aspiring accountant. The two just didn’t mix, not if Tim wanted to keep breathing.
Sighing, he grabbed a blanket, sprawled out on the couch, and brooded until he finally fell asleep.
Crystal was still asleep, or pretending to be, when he rose the next morning and headed to work. Before he left, he tiptoed into the bedroom and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered, then silently left again.
Those three affectionate words sliced right into her heart.
The part of her that still loved him and wanted a future together ached to jump up, hug him tightly, and drag him into bed with her. But the other part…the stronger part…was already looking forward to her next hit of Meth.
Staying with Tim meant giving up Meth completely. She wasn’t ready to do that yet, so she feigned sleep until she heard the trailer door close. Then she rolled onto her back, and stared gloomily at the ceiling. She was tired and achy, and only Meth made her feel better. It made all the aches and pains vanish…and even more importantly, this morning, it stopped emotional pain, too. On Meth, she was decisive; she knew what she wanted. When she came down, everything became hazy and slow. She lived at half-speed.
I need a shower and food. That will make me feel better.
She studied her naked body in the mirror, and was glad she hadn’t fucked Tim last night. She hadn’t felt it at the time, but Jingles had left several marks on her. They were just hickies, love bites, and a few pinches. She smiled, remembering how good he’d made her feel.
But if Tim had seen them, he’d have completely flipped out, and called the police.
She bruised easily; that was partly why Tim was always so gentle with her. Jingles wasn’t overly rough, but he was decisive, aggressive, and relentless in his lovemaking. He left her breathless, satisfied, and almost unable to move by the time he’d finished. Between the Meth and her lust, she always had multiple orgasms when he fucked her.
The Meth helps there, too. I get so fucking turned on when I’m on it!
Still, she felt cravings almost always now, and that worried her. It lowered her inhibitions, too. When she was sober, she hated the thought of being shared by Jingles. But when she was high…oh yeah, she’d happily give him anything he wanted.
I wouldn’t mind being shared if he still wanted me afterwards, but I know he’d kick me to the curb. I don’t care what Dulce says—he’ll only keep me if I’m exclusive to him. So I’ll have to be really careful not to take any Meth when he’s with his friends or business associates.
She stepped into the shower, and let the hot water pummel her body. The aches and pains gradually flowed away, and she sighed with relief. Hotter, she decided, and cranked the shower knob to full blast.
When she finally stepped out again, and toweled herself dry, she wondered what she should do now. It’s not working for Tim and me anymore. Even if Jingles wasn’t in the picture, I wouldn’t be happy staying with Tim. He wants me to give up everything I enjoy. What does a suburban housewife do? I’d be bored silly in a week! Getting a job’s not an option…I hate waitressing, and the only other thing I know is stripping.
Mom, she suddenly decided. I need to see Mom. She’ll know what to do. She knows men…hell, she knows life!
She was careful to dress simply, and cover all the marks Jingles had made with clothes or makeup. No one was a bigger critic than her mother.
She was still convinced Crystal had married the wrong man. Listen to me, Crystal, she’d said when Tim had proposed to her. Tim’s a nice kid, but he’s not right for you. You need a strong man in your life.
She’d retorted that she’d had all the strong men she ever wanted, and now she wanted someone who would finally treat her nicely.
You say that now, but believe me—it won’t last. You’ll be walkin’ all over that boy soon, and then you’ll lose respect for him. When that happens—and it will happen, Crystal—it’s over.
Sullenly she shook her head, refusing to admit that her mother might have been right.
Still, Darla knew men, especially players. Considering the huge number of men who had drifted through her mother’s life, it was no surprise that she’d learned a thing or two.
When Crystal arrived at her mother’s house, Darla was sitting in her kitchen, watching TV. The large shapeless dress she wore did little to hide the fact that she was overweight, but it was comfortable and familiar.
Too many late-night parties, drunken stupors, and an ever-changing parade of men had taken their toll on her, and she looked a good fifteen years older than her true age. Crystal felt sorry for her. Sure, she’d brought it on herself…but at least one of the guys might have stayed and tried to make her happy.
Players don’t stay. They fuck you, and leave!
Now she was alone with her little dog, and had traded alcoholism for chain-smoking. It hadn’t helped her lose weight, but at least she was staying sober.
Crystal closed the door behind her, and smiled down at her mother. “Hi, Mom.”
Darla blew smoke away from her daughter, and smiled back. “Hi, baby. How you doing? I’ve missed you,” she added, and motioned to the adjoining chair. “Sit with me.”
Crystal complied, and rested both elbows on the table. “I’m fine. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. How are you doing? Do you need anything?”
Darla shot her a sly glance. “I could use a few bucks.”
“No problem.” Crystal quickly dug a thick wad of $20 bills from her purse. “Here. Let me know if you need more.”
The older woman blinked in surprise. “Wow! You must be doing well!”
“I’m doing okay.”
The roll of bills disappeared somewhere in Darla’s dress. Then she nodded knowingly at her daughter. “You got your stuff with you?”
It was so unexpected that Crystal simply gaped at her, then hung her head in dismayed confusion. “How did you know?”
“I know you, baby-girl,” Darla said evenly. “Better than you know yourself. And you’ve lost too much weight. You need to eat more, honey.”
“Maybe,” Crystal allowed, then looked pleadingly at her mother. “I love Tim, Momma.”
“I know you do, baby. But loving someone and making a life with them are two very different things.”
“Yeah.” Her shoulders sagged.
“Want some help?”
Crystal smiled innocently. “Help with what?”
Darla’s laugh emerged as a cackle. “You haven’t fooled me since you were ten!” She blew out more smoke, then clarified, “Do you need help moving the stuff you brought with you? The stuff you’re moving out of your trailer, and into your old room.”
A weight fell off her shoulders, and she managed a rueful laugh. “It’s just some knickknacks. I got it, Momma.”
Darla watched her daughter head back outside, then whispered, “That’s how it starts, baby-girl. We always take the sentimental things first.”
It didn’t take long to transfer her boxes from the back of her car to her old room. Then she visited the old oak tree in the lot next door. Years before, she’d hollowed out a space beneath it. Now it held the suitcase where she stored her delivery money…
Just in case things don’t work out with Tim…or Jingles.
She had fond memories of playing beneath that old tree as a child…and even fonder memories of learning about sex in the vacant house that was now boarded up and condemned. The yard might be overgrown, but the oak was still healthy, and provided her mother’s yard plenty of shade. No one would find her suitcase there, especially not Darla, who rarely left her house anymore.
She was still sitting at the kitchen table when Crystal came back inside. “You moving in? You know you’re welcome anytime.”
“I’m not sure yet, but thank you.”
“Your new man offer to let you stay with him?”
Again she lowered her eyes, stared at her feet, shifted her weight from side to side just like she’d done as a teenager. “No,” she finally admitted. “At least, he hasn’t offered. He says he wants to get serious, but he hasn’t asked me to move in with him permanently.” Then she offered hopefully, “I spend the night with him a few times a week, and I’ve moved some toiletries into his place.”
She’d thought as much. Darla nodded, then suggested, “Don’t leave Tim unless your new man offers you something more. ‘Getting serious’ means something different to men than it does to women. If he really wants you, he’ll commit to you.
“Right now, you got a man who worships the ground you walk on, and may turn out to be a good provider. Don’t throw that away unless you got something better, something that will last. You hear me?” she urged. “You need something more than ‘I wanna get serious with you,’ Crystal.”
She understood. Crystal hadn’t expected that, and impulsively hugged her mother. “I love you, Momma.”
“I love you, too, Crystal.” Darla wiped a tear from her eyes. “You’re the best thing I ever did. In my whole life, you’re the only thing I’m proud of.”
Now Crystal’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t say that, Momma.”
“It’s true, and I ain’t ashamed to say it. Now stop your crying,” Darla admonished. “And get some more food in you from now on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Crystal started to leave, then turned back and smiled. “I’ll keep in touch with you. Don’t be surprised if I show up on your doorstep.”
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” Darla winked. Then she added, “That stuff beneath the oak…you want to keep that a secret?”
Crystal sighed.
“I told you, baby…you haven’t fooled me since you were ten!” Darla cackled again, but this time Crystal didn’t mind.
“Yes…please keep it a secret until I come for it, or tell you what to do with it.”
“Okay.”
Crystal slid into her car, but didn’t start the engine right away. She stared at the house she’d grown up in, and let memories wash over her.
Darla had been gorgeous when she was young. Crystal had worshiped her as a child, and she’d become her mentor as she’d grown older. She’d never judged her, no matter how crazy she’d acted, and she’d made sure Crystal never got pregnant.
Whenever she was confused or hurt or scared, memories of this house and her mother got her through.
Darla came to the window, and waved. Crystal returned her smile, then drove away.
It was still too early for a pickup, so she returned to the trailer and made lunch. Her mother was right…she’d lost more weight. She resolved to eat more regularly. There were thin, malnourished, obviously addicted strippers at Joe’s and Jingles’ clubs. She didn’t want to look even remotely like them.
She was just finishing her lunch when her phone chimed. Shane texted her the pickup address. She cleaned up, and hit the road. Her delivery addresses wouldn’t come until later, but she wasn’t worried about that, because she was going to visit Jingles anyway. Though she didn’t plan on dancing tonight, she hoped to get him naked, and get her nightly pick-me-up. And she planned to spend the night with him. Just the thought of seeing him made her heart race.
Don’t leave Tim unless your new man offers you something more than a desire to ‘get serious.’
It was good advice, learned through a lifetime of experiences with men just like Jingles. She hoped she’d remember it when she was with him, because the Meth definitely made her lose control.
A faint smile curved her lips, and she turned up the radio.