Three
Surrender Yourself
Eloisa was only slightly embarrassed by the state of the house when they stepped inside.
"You have kids?" Nacho asked, looking at the toys that hadn't quite made it back into the office that doubled as Hazel's playroom.
"No. God, no. My niece is here a couple of times a week. I had her tonight and… sorry about the mess." She gestured vaguely to the living room but had a feeling they wouldn't be spending much time there anyway.
He waved her apology away. "Don't worry about it."
Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket, startling her. She pulled it out and glanced at the message.
From Aubs: Thx 4 telling us u left w the hottie
Shit, she thought. Even if she hadn't let Nacho take her home, she should have messaged them that she had made it okay. She flipped it open and typed a response.
To Aubs: Srry. Am home safe. Talk 2mrrw.
From Aubs: Use protection! Luv u!
"Do you?" she asked, throwing her phone on the little table by the door and turning her attention back to him.
"Have kids?" He shook his head as he glanced around, taking it all in. "This is a nice place. Rental?"
She felt a swell of pride in how well she had done making the home her own on a tight budget and hours spent scouring thrift stores.
"No, my Tita owns it, but…" She paused, wondering how much information was too much to share in this situation.
"But?" he prompted.
"She needed a lot of help, so I moved in with her for a while. Then it got to be too much for even me so now she's in a home." It was the condensed version of what the process of dealing with her grandmother's Parkinson's had been like, especially after dementia set in. She shook her head. "But she's happy there. The routine helps her. Plus, we visit a lot. And she's got a lot of amigos especiales," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
He laughed, turning on the stereo. "Your grandma's a player. I like it." He pressed play and the sounds of Avril Lavigne assaulted their ears. He laughed harder and her face turned pink. "What is this?"
"Did I mention I have a niece? A six-year-old niece who loves this crap. Move." She bumped him out of the way with her hip and nodded toward the kitchen. "I'll be there in a sec."
She flipped through a case of CDs and decided on a mix that Aubrey had made for her. Satisfied as a soft alt-rock song began to play, she bobbed her head in time with the beat and joined him in the kitchen.
Nacho was standing at the kitchen table looking down at the papers scattered on it. A harmless thing to do, but her stomach lurched as she remembered carelessly throwing the hospital bill on it. She cleared her throat, and he glanced up, holding up a fake award that Hazel had drawn for her earlier.
"You make the best pancakes, huh?" he asked.
Eloisa breathed a sigh of relief as he set it back down. "If you're lucky, you might find out."
She flipped on the main light switch and opened the fridge to look for the stray beers she knew were shoved in the back. Leftovers from when Nate had lived there.
"So, what do you do?"
"What do you mean?"
She grabbed two Blue Moons and began rummaging around in one of the drawers for a bottle opener.
"Like for work? Taking late night calls, the nice car…" The bling, the expensive boots, paying for the table, and everyone's drinks, she thought. She was, unfortunately, a cop's daughter and suspicious at heart. Those things tended to add up to a married man going through a mid-life crisis or something criminal. Not wanting to sound like she was implying what she had been thinking, she kept her voice light and teasing. "You must have a fancy job or, you know, a really rewarding side business." She turned around to wink at him.
He chuckled. "My dad owns an upholstery shop. His English isn't great, so I help out with customers, orders, the books. That kind of thing."
"Really?" She handed him an open bottle. "That's sweet. I always thought it would be cool to be part of a family business. Building something for yourself and being able to pass it down? It's… I dunno. Lasting, I guess?"
"You two would get along. It's a good business now. He puts a lot into it, but it's not what I want." He took a long pull from the bottle and made a face. "This tastes like soap. You like this?"
"Wow. I know you didn't just knock my free beer," she scoffed and took a big drink to prove her point. He watched, waiting for her to swallow which she did with a grimace. "Fine. It does taste like soap."
They both laughed.
"So, you bartend at night but by day you're…?"
"Ooh. I'm not sure you can handle it," she teased. "It's really exciting."
"Try me."
"I'm an accountant." She chuckled at his pretend stunned silence. "You're impressed, I know."
"I am, though. Smart and beautiful? I hit the jackpot."
It was such a cheesy thing to say, but it worked. Her whole body warmed as his eyes met hers. She wanted to do something with this tension, with these feelings, but she wasn't sure what. It had been a long time since she'd done this, flirted with someone new.
"Hm… okay," she said as she began to pick at a corner of the label. More questions seemed safe. The damp paper easily gave way under the pressure of her nail. "Then what would you do? If you could do anything?"
He stared at her thoughtfully as she rolled the paper under her thumb. It made her wonder if anyone had ever asked him that before. It was something she thought about a lot- what life would be like if she just lived it for herself.
"Anything?"
She held up her hands. "It's your fantasy."
"Buy a little cabin on a lake."
He hooked a finger around one of her belt loops, drawing her forward. He looked down at her, touching his nose to hers. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, but she was glad he'd made the first move. In the living room, whatever song had been playing ended, and "Something in the Way" by Nirvana started.
"Somewhere with mountains. Settle down. Learn to fish or carve wood. Some handy shit like that."
"You like to work with your hands, huh? Are you any good with them?" she inquired, feigning innocence.
"If you're lucky," he said, mimicking her words, his voice low and seductive. "You might find out."
Nacho kissed her, slowly at first and then with an intensity that she had suspected was lurking beneath the surface. She melted against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled away and she had to blink her eyes open.
"So, what would you do?" he asked, posing the question back to her. One hand slid to her lower back, pulling her body closer.
Eloisa ran her nose up along his cheek, feeling the tickle of his stubble as she nipped the bottom of his earlobe. "If I could do anything?"
"It's your fantasy."
"I'd find out what you can do with your hands," she whispered into his ear.
He sat down, pulling her onto his lap so that she was straddling him on the chair. He ran his hands up her sides, under her shirt, and she shivered at the skin-on-skin contact. She lifted her arms so he could slip the shirt over her head, deliberately gyrating her hips against his in a rhythmic back-and-forth motion. A low groan escaped his mouth.
Their lips met again as Eloisa began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He gently moved them away so he could finish the task, allowing her to push it off of him when he reached the last one.
"Do you-" she began. She inhaled sharply as he began kissing along her collarbone, working his way to her shoulder. "Do you want to take this upstairs?"
He slid his hands down her shorts until they touched the soft skin of her thighs before he slipped them under her bottom. She wrapped her legs around his middle so that he could lift her. He stumbled as he got out of the chair, pressing her back against the wall.
They barely made it to her bed where he showed her exactly what he could do with his hands.
The next morning Eloisa stretched out; the sheets cool against her warm body as the sun filtered in through gauzy peach curtains. A thick arm wrapped around her middle and rolled her over.
"¿Que hora es?" mumbled Nacho, eyes still closed.
She lifted her head and squinted at the alarm clock behind him. "Six."
"AM? Why are you up?"
She lightly kissed the tip of his nose. "I'm always up this early."
He groaned. "We'll have to fix that."
"Good luck."
Jokes aside, she was content to lay there. Last night was probably the deepest she'd slept in months. Her eyes drifted down from his face to his chest where she saw a scar, the whitish gleam in contrast with the rest of his skin.
"What happened here?" she asked, touching it with her fingertips.
He finally opened his eyes, glancing down at it and then back to her with a shrug.
"It's a long story." Under the tatty apricot comforter, his hand roamed until it found her knee, the one that had its own ugly scar. "What about you?"
"Blow out sophomore year."
It had also been the end of her college scholarship and her track career. Her parents had both been upset, but her dad had taken it personally.
That was driven out of her mind, however, as Nacho's hands slid up her leg and into more pleasurable places.
When they finished, he fell asleep again. Eloisa slipped out of bed and changed into her running gear, noting that her wallet was poking out of the back pocket of last night's shorts. It was probably stupid to leave a more or less complete stranger in her house, but if he found something worth stealing, she would have been impressed. She strapped on her knee brace and took off into the cool morning.
The neighborhood was quiet, which was one of the reasons she ran so early. Later in the morning, the area would be crawling with stay-at-home parents and all the summer program kids trying to get into the zoo. It was nice living so close to downtown and not too far from the University. She loved all of the houses on the street, each one unique, but she loved Tita's house, especially. It was a cute one-and-a-half story with bold green paint, rosebushes that her abuela had treated more tenderly than even her grandchildren, and a covered porch, perfect for sitting outside and reading during the summer.
She cruised down the street, falling into a rhythm as the birds began chirping. It was easily one of her favorite routes. If she timed it right, she got lucky and would hear the howler monkeys' morning call. This morning, however, she was on a mission.
While last night had been a very welcome distraction from her problems, they were still there, and ten thousand dollars wasn't going to find itself. As she ran, she went through her options.
1. A loan
If there was a reputable place in Albuquerque that would have given her one, she would have tried it. But between student loans, the loan they had taken out to get Tita into the assisted living facility, and the alarming amount of credit card debt she was in, it was highly unlikely that she would be able to take out much let alone ten grand.
2. Asking friends
She would have rather died than admit she needed that kind of help. Aubrey and Starr didn't even know how bad her family was hurting and even if she could bring herself to do it, neither of them had that much money to give.
3. Gambling
The thought was laughable. Almost as laughable as-
4. Win the lottery
And, finally, then there was-
5. Come clean
Eloisa could tell Nate that she didn't have the money.
Her sneakers hit the pavement harder as she tried to imagine the outcome of this scenario. Probably a shakedown of her entire family, and that was the best case. Had they not suffered enough because of what her father had put them through?
She focused on her breathing, putting one foot in front of the other as if she could somehow outrun this if she tried hard enough.
There was one other possibility, but even thinking about it made her feel like shit.
6. Her brother's college fund.
Each of the Samuels kids had been gifted one, a five-thousand-dollar sum that was supposed to help cover anything school-related. When her mom had put her on the accounts, that included Daniel's college fund. He graduated in May, but he was headed for the local community college. Provided she played it smart, she could withdraw it and replace it before anyone was the wiser.
Her pacing was off, breathing not syncing. She stopped and put her head between her legs as she tried to steady herself.
"Fuck!" she shouted at the empty street.
When she arrived home again, the house was silent. She slipped off her shoes, threw the knee brace in the corner of the living room, and started the coffee pot. As she did, a phone rang upstairs. Not hers, which she could see where she'd left it by the door. For a moment, she debated whether listening was rude or not. But Nacho wasn't her boyfriend, and she was nosy, so she tiptoed upstairs, stopping halfway.
"Nacho." Pause. "Puedo estar allí en… ¿cuarenta minutos?"
Eloisa's eyebrows furrowed. Forty minutes wasn't a lot of time depending on where he had to go.
"Dile que se reláje hasta que llegue. Si, traeré la camioneta."
The words piqued her interest, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. There was a loud snapping sound, the phone closing probably, followed by a sigh. Eloisa, heart pounding at her boldness, snuck back to the front door, opened it, and slammed it shut. What the hell had that been about?
"I'm back!" she called.
Minutes later a mostly clothed Nacho joined her in the kitchen. She handed him a cup of coffee which he studied before taking a sip of the scalding liquid.
"I hate to do this, but I gotta take off." He grabbed his shirt off of the chair by the kitchen table and threw it on. "Maybe next time we can-" He stopped mid-buttoning, eyebrows furrowing as he touched the piece of paper on the table. "Tia Lou?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied offhandedly over her shoulder as she poured a second cup. She turned around, leaning her back against the counter. "It's a family nickname."
"Cute," he said. They regarded each other for a moment, a tight smile forming on his face. "I left my phone in your room. I'll be right back."
He disappeared back up the stairs and she glanced at the paper to see her name written in peach crayon, almost invisible even in the daylight.
"Sorry you can't stay for breakfast," she said as he came back down.
"Another time."
They went through the motions of saying goodbye and he gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as she walked him out.
What the fuck just happened? she asked herself as she closed and locked the door. Why had he gotten so weird right at the end? He hadn't even asked for her number, she realized with a pang of disappointment.
She stared at the mug that he had used then dumped it into the sink, letting the ceramic clatter against the metal. She grabbed her cup and headed upstairs, ready for a shower, when she caught sight of her shorts on the floor. Her wallet sat a few inches away from them. Weird considering it had been in the back pocket before she'd left.
On a whim, she flipped it open, but nothing was missing. The only thing that seemed out of place was her ID which hadn't been slid all the way back into its slot. She pushed it back into the pocket it was in and stared at the unsmiling reflection of Samuels, Eloisa M. from last year.