Chapter Ten
They stayed just over a week in Mexico City, checking into a small, affordable hotel near one of the better shopping districts. Letty used her talents to slowly increase both the size and the quality of their wardrobes (and wallets), while Javier followed his own instincts to track down, starting with a nightclub bouncer who directed him to one of the bartenders, a gentleman who could procure excellent fake ID's. Within four days, they each had drivers licenses from Los Angeles and US passports they were assured would pass all but the most stringent inspections.
To celebrate, they stopped at a sidewalk cafe and shared an ice cream sundae, resorting once to a spoon duel to decide who got the next mouthful. A minute later, though, Javi realized he'd had the last three dips unopposed, and looked up to find Letty staring thoughtfully at his shoulder while sucking on her empty spoon.
"What are you thinking about?" he wondered.
Letty met his eyes then, seeming to come to a decision. Pulling the spoon out of her mouth, she pointed it silently over his left shoulder. He twisted around to see, then slowly swiveled back, rather bewildered. "You're thinking of robbing a wedding chapel?" he asked, incredulous.
"No, dummy. I'm thinking of using it, for its intended purpose."
That really threw Javi. "Why? – I'm not objecting, just curious. I thought we had agreed that what we have between us is sufficient?"
"It is," she replied immediately, "for us. But not for the world. And I'm convinced that sooner or later, we're going to run into that one asshole official who won't just take our word for it, but insist on that piece of paper. And with my luck, it'll be a prosecutor. Javi..." He was startled to see tears spring to her eyes. She leaned forward and lowered her voice, although the nearest people were three tables away, and they were speaking, for once, in English. "I don't ever want to be forced to testify against you. Or you against me."
He reached out and claimed her empty hand. "Likewise. OK, I'm convinced. Though I confess, that's the strangest proposal I've ever received." He grinned merrily at her.
"You've had other proposals?" she pounced, eyebrows flaring.
"I am not answering that," came his sensible reply, then he went on to distract her. "But before we slide across the street, we need to do something else first: buy a couple of wedding rings – and I do mean buy." He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. "Just as you don't want to face that official without that paper, I don't ever want anyone to be able to rip the ring I give you off your finger because it was stolen. Even if we can only afford plain gold rings, I want them to be ours."
"Likewise," she echoed, smiling her love back. "But I think we can do better than that."
Javi glanced to his right, confirming that there was, indeed, a jewelry store just steps away. He nodded that way. "Then shall we, Mrs. Pereira?"
"In a minute," she said, grabbing the sundae glass. "After this is finished."
Javi sat back, smiling fondly, and watched her devour the remaining ice cream with gusto.
Two hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Pereira not only had their duly-witnessed and officially-legal piece of paper, but were sporting matching tungsten bands, engraved all around the outside with celtic designs inlaid with black, and on the inside with "SOLO YO – SOLO TU" (only me – only you).
.
.
Later that afternoon, back in their hotel room, it was Letty's turn to find Javier staring pensively at the opposite wall from his perch on one of the two beds, leaning against the headboard. "What are you thinking about?"
"That phone," he replied, nodding sideways at the ubiquitous instrument on the bedside table. "I'm trying to remember how to place an international collect call – direct calls out of this place are completely outrageous."
Letty plopped down on the other bed. "Who do – Ava," she answered her own question. When he raised his brows and nodded, she smiled. "I want to call Christian."
Javi had to go through the hotel operator anyway, and decided for some reason to place Letty's call first, as she gave him the number from memory – at least, she hoped her friend still had the same cell number. "It's Letty, Christian," she said to the prompt, and then they both listened to the earpiece, sitting side by side, while the call went through.
A long thirty seconds later, a familiar – and astonished – voice came on. "Letty?!" Javi grinned and pulled away, letting her listen by herself.
"Hey, Christian!" was all she could think of to say.
"I don't believe it – I thought you were dead!"
"Well, that's probably not the first time," she said ruefully, thinking of all the times she'd disappeared for months or years.
"Wait... tell me something only the real Letty would know." Apparently Christian was not yet convinced.
She only needed to think for a moment. "You're still not an actor on NCIS."
"Holy shit! Letty! It's really you!"
"Hey, Christian!" Instant deja vu, she thought.
"Wait a second. What are you doing in Mexico?"
"It's a long, long, long story, and I really don't feel like talking about that whole shitshow. We didn't come here by choice, but we're OK now."
" 'We'?" Christian, no idiot, had picked up on that word, of course. "You're still with Javier?"
"Yes, I'm still with Javier," she replied, grinning at said man beside her.
Javi leaned over and said into the phone, "Hi, Christian!"
"Javi!" Christian practically yelled back gleefully. Letty tipped the receiver again and motioned Javi back over to listen with her.
"Yeah?" Javi asked.
"You taking good care of our little girl?" Christian wanted to know.
"Trying to. When she's not taking care of me." He winked and leaned away again.
"Good man," Christian commented, then added, obviously straight to Letty, "You're finally learning that, are you?"
"Well, that's what married couples do, isn't it?" she retorted, then of course had to reconfirm their status when he squeaked. "Speaking of which, how's Rhonda?" she asked to change the subject. When he didn't answer right away, Letty was immediately concerned. "Christian?"
"Rhonda's dead," came the quiet reply.
"Oh my god!" she breathed, then mouthed the word 'dead' to Javier's shock. "I'm so sorry! What happened?"
It was the damn Sprinter, Christian informed her. Rhonda had been driving in the rain, too fast, and skidded off the road. "I wasn't with her," he added.
They got through the I'm-so-sorries and I'm-doing-okay-I-guesses, then it was Christian's turn to change the subject. "Are you guys headed back to the US, then?"
"No," Letty admitted. They had talked about it, but... "We're just not ready – I'm just not ready yet to come back to the states." She knew what his next question would be. "I don't know when I will be, either. There's just too much garbage back there. I can't face it."
"You haven't called your Mom?" he guessed correctly.
"No. And I don't want you to, either. Or Jacob."
"Letty... they probably think you're dead, too."
"Maybe. Maybe not. I've disappeared before. But even if so... it's better this way. Jacob's better off without me fucking up his life any more. He has a better chance of being a normal boy, a normal person, without me wandering in and out of his life every few months and fucking it up. No, Christian," as he tried to break in, "I don't want to talk about it. Don't tell them. I mean it." She took a deep breath and tried unsuccessfully to make a joke. "Besides, I doubt she'd accept a collect call from Mexico." It wasn't funny, because it was true.
Javier had slipped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into his shoulder, waiting for Christian to come around. He did, leaving the former subject behind. "Where are you headed, then?"
"Acapulco." They had already agreed that Mexico City just didn't have a good vibe for them. The tourist mecca on the coast, though, promised a lot more opportunities for people with their talents, both legal and not. "We're gonna try it for a while, and see if we like it."
"You need some money?" Christian volunteered, and she had to laugh, a little shakily.
"No. But I might need to take a rain check."
"You got it."
"You're a good friend, Christian, you know that?"
"Yeah, but I'm trying not to let it go to my head."
The call was beginning to cost, and she said so. "I'll let you go. Love you, Christian!"
Javier leaned over to echo it. "Love you, Christian!"
Christian laughed and sent his love back to both, then clicked off.
.
.
Javier's call to his sister, Ava, was nearly a repeat of Letty's. Javier had never disappeared for so long before, with his cell phone number getting discontinued and no replies to her emails so she couldn't get a hold of him at all, so she had also begun to fear that he was dead. He gave her no details, either, distracting her with the news of their marriage, which Ava received ecstatically, and their intention to stay "for a while, at least" in Acapulco. His nieces were not at home, but Ava was certain that once they heard that magic name, they'd be after her to let them fly down to visit.
Javier laughed. "I'll be sure not to give you our address, then!" Although secretly, he thought that idea sounded like fun. He signed off soon after, with a promise to call back as soon as they were settled somewhere. Letty leaned in to give Ava her love as he had before.
.
.
Letty had "improved" their wardrobes to the point that their stuff wouldn't fit into the saddlebags any more, and Javi had to find a small trailer to pull behind the bike – not that he was complaining. It felt good to own more than one change of clothes again (and those nearly rags, at that). On a fine afternoon they pulled into Acapulco, only a few hours away from the City, and set about finding digs.
A small, furnished apartment with decent security not too far from the resort hotels worked to start off with – they took Christian up on his offer for the first month's rent. The complex was apparently specifically designed for short-term use by employees of those hotels, so the couple immediately began fulfilling that end. And it didn't take long – Letty practically hired herself at the first (and most exclusive) hotel they hit.
As Javier went to find the catering manager to try to talk himself into a job on her staff, Letty sat at the busy but obviously understaffed basement bar for fifteen minutes without being served. Then she flagged the stressed-out manager acting as the sole bartender down.
"You need help. I'm a mixologist," was all she said as introduction.
Juan Carlos (according to his nametag) was taken aback, but only for a moment. He quizzed her on how to make a few drinks, reaching the fifth before she was stumped. "Is that a local one?" she asked.
He grinned. "Yup. My own concoction." He had one other concern, though. They had been speaking English, and most of the hotel's guests were American, but could she handle their Spanish-speaking customers, too?
"Si," she replied immediately, "estoy aprendiendo nombres de bebidas en español pero es fácil." I'm still learning drink names in Spanish but that's easy.
He was still hesitant. "You haven't been trained or vetted – "
"Simple," she broke in. "I'll make the drinks, you handle the money. We'll figure out the paperwork after the rush is over." Three servers were now stacked up by the register waiting for their orders to be filled, and several customers at the bar were getting visibly impatient, glaring at the two of them apparently just talking.
"Get back here," Juan Carlos told her decisively, jerking his head towards the employee door. "There's an apron on the wall."
Two hours later, she hastily wiped down the bar in front of a new customer without looking up. "What can I get you?"
"A beer and a kiss, por favor," came a familiar voice. It was Javier, grinning.
"Hey," she said, leaning over to give him the requested smooch. "How'd you do?"
"Not as good as you, apparently," he sighed. "I can't get onto the catering staff without proving myself, so I get to play line cook in the main restaurant for a while. I start tomorrow."
"Well, that's still great!" She pulled a glass of his favorite beer without asking. They had agreed they would at least attempt life on the right side of the law. (At least until I get the security system figured out, Letty thought but did not share. She didn't ask what Javier really thought, not wanting to push him too hard about his – hopefully former – line of work.)
They managed to get their schedules coordinated, too, both working the busiest afternoon-to-evening shift. For a change, they saved as much as they could, spending as little as possible on their days off and eating breakfast at home. They only splurged on a pair of prepaid smart phones – Letty immediately felt tons better with her electronic pacifier in her hands, finding the latest mindless game and plunging in. Javier checked in with the catering manager once a week, but kept getting put off – finally she told him he had to put in six months on the line before she'd consider him. As it was, Letty was bringing home twice as much what with her tips, but it wasn't the money that bothered him, it was the mind-numbing, high-stress job of putting out huge numbers of the same dishes day after day in less time than they really required. But there was always the beach on their days off, and the hotel nightclubs for dancing. He made up his mind to endure the six months.
And then Ava called.