Lulu had been scrubbing at the stain for over twenty minutes and it still refused to budge. As she sat back on her haunches she wondered for the millionth time what possessed her to get beige carpeting with a three year old running around with grape juice boxes.
"It'll have to do" she said finally giving up and dropping the brush in the bowl full of warm sudsy water. She pushed the edges of her dark bob haircut behind her ears and closed her eyes.
The sounds of her small home soothed her nerves momentarily. She had just finished loading the dishwasher and it now swished happily with a full load of dishes as the cool autumn wind swirled the leaves outside and made them crunch against the concrete sidewalks. She stood up and walked down her dark hall to sneak a peek at her slumbering daughter. Sol was covered warmly with her favorite blanket and that silly threadbare dog tucked under her arm. Her little lips made that perfect Cupid's bow and her soft brown skin glowed lightly in the moonlight shining through her window. Her long light eyelashes made gentle shadows on top of her pink cheeks. It always amazed her how her little demon looked like a perfect angel in her sleep.
She walked up the hallway picking up a toy here and there. Her living room was littered with bright colored blocks, small animal figures and chunky wooden dollhouse furniture. As she picked up the before bed warzone, her body warmed with the warning of his impending arrival. She wrung her hands; she couldn't believe she was nervous. The knock resounded in the walls of her living room. She walked toward the door; took a deep breath and opened it.
There he stood, a six foot something blonde vamp in the Barrio. She giggled at her thought. He raised his eyebrow and looked at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, don't mind me, please come in" she invited him and moved aside.
"You received my message?" Speaking in that tone that made her feel mentally deficient.
"Of course, otherwise I'd be in bed watching something without muppets. What do you want Eric?" She asked exasperated. He always had a way of bringing out the worst in her and she hated it.
"Que diría tu Abuela de tu comportamiento con un huésped?" He spoke her native tongue with that little lilt that drove her to perdition a long time ago.
Her Abuela's lessons did not go to waste as the guilt gnawed at her insides and made her walk to the kitchen and heat one of the True Blood's she picked up earlier at the latin grocery store while the "metiche" girl at the register stared at her. She pulled it out of the microwave, shook it and handed it to him brusquely while glaring at him.
"Don't bring her up; don't speak to me in Spanish and if you call me Maria Luisa I will not be responsible for my own actions. What. Do. You. Want. Eric?" She asked for the second time that night, she had a feeling it wouldn't be the last.
He removed his jacket and sat down in one of the old couches. The couch seemed to complain by the weight as Eric shifted uncomfortably on it. He took a long drink and an unnecessary breath. "Your hair is too short." He stated as if with that sentence she should automatically grow hair.
"I'm not going to have this conversation with you again, Eric." She was tired and she really didn't want to drudge up the past. It took too much out of her.
"Have the scars on your legs and back healed?" He asked, almost as if he asked if it was cold outside.
"Eric, I don't want to talk about this, please" Maybe manners will change the subject.
"I have seen her"
"Who?" She rolled her eyes and sighed. Eric the all knowing was about to say something deep that would get her into a world of trouble.
"Your vision." She dropped on the ottoman at his feet shocked by the sentence.
"Really? Are you sure?" She asked wanting to be happy, but the sad kept creeping in her voice.
"Yes, but I have come for other matters." He stood and lifted her by the hand from the ottoman. "How is Solveig?"
She pulled her hand away from him, missing the coolness of his touch. She reached over and took the now empty bottle from his other hand to rinse it in the kitchen. As the water poured in the bottle; she emptied it and watched the red water swirl down her cobalt blue sink.
"She's fine. She's started Kindergarten and loves it. Her teacher has called me in twice for her behavior. She's such a strong willed child. She has a stubborn streak from here to Mexico, but she's kind and gentle. She's very smart and has learned quite a bit in school. I think she will have a talent for languages. Her Spanish is strong, but now I'm afraid of her losing it because of school. She loves animals and….." She realized suddenly that she was going on and on. She had a tendency of overwhelming a conversation with too many words. Abuela always said a lady spoke only the necessary words to answer a question. She stopped mid sentence and waved her hand at Eric. "Sorry I have a tendency to go on about her. I'm very proud."
"Why shouldn't you be? She is her father's daughter."
She rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel the Eric induced headache coming on.
"Well, aren't you the proud papa" She said bitterly.
I apologize for all the moving around, but I haven't quite figured out the publishing feature. Thank you for your patience. Please be advised that this story will go back and forth between the present and the past. The past will always be in Italics. Please let me know what you think. I'd really love some feedback on how I'm doing. Thank you for taking the time to reading my little story.