Let Him Cry Pt. 04

The fourth and final part of the story. This particular part was completely self-edited due to life stuff; I hope it doesn't show too much.

--C

CHAPTER VI

Life was frustrating for both of us.

On the other hand, there were, occasionally, days like the next one where I got a text at seven thirty in the morning:

≪ Either don't go to Abode today or leave and be home by 12:30. Please! Need to talk.

My return text asking why went unanswered; Grano must be a zoo. At twelve forty, I opened my door to find Bela standing there.

"Is anyone else here?" she asked.

"No."

The next thing I knew, I had an armful of woman. When I started to say something, she shushed me. "I promised I'd be back from my bank meeting by two. It's a ten-minute drive to Grano, plus I'll need a really quick shower. That gives us an hour." What she intended we'd do in that hour was obvious as she was already pulling me toward the bedroom.

She backed me up against the bed and, with a light push against my chest, toppled me. A kick backward closed the door. A finger pointed. "Stay there." Stepping back, she treated me to an unhurried striptease, drawing each garment off with more hand-to-skin contact than necessary, her eyes never leaving mine, any movement on my part met with, "Huh-uh. I asked you to stay there."

Naked, eyes heavy-lidded, she skimmed one hand across her chest, molding to the curves in passing, over her belly, to brush dark curls suggestively. She pointed with the other. "Let me see."

I reached for my belt.

"Slowly," she added. "Make me wait a little." Her fingers toyed as I complied.

"Perfect." She closed the distance, batted aside my reaching hands, pinned my wrists to the bed with a lascivious smile, and knelt astride me. I barely lasted long enough after that tease... barely.

As she collapsed laughing onto me at the end, I asked, "What brought that on?"

"You didn't like?"

"I loved, but..."

"Keeping it interesting." The beloved giggle. "You've met my mother, and you probably think she's the most proper, stick-up-her-butt woman you've ever met." I wasn't going touch that one, not with a ten-foot pole. She knew it and, eyes dancing, she continued. "But she had a completely practical, down-to-earth approach to raising daughters. Dad was all about my brother, but girls were her job."

"And...?"

"And one of the pieces of advice she gave Ana and me when we were in our late teens was a Jerry Hall quote. She--"

"Who?"

She looked at me in disbelief. "Jerry Hall. You know, Mick Jagger's wife? I thought you liked classic rock."

"Not the Stones."

The look turned to one of utter horror. "What is wrong with you? I don't think I can see you anymore!" She spoiled it by giggling as I grabbed at her. "No!" she declared, holding up a hand to stop me. "Beatles?"

"They're fine to listen to, but I don't choose them when I'm playing something."

"Ohmygod. What have I done? Who then?"

"No. I'm sorry, not The Who either.

"Just shoot me."

"Creedence," I said laughing. "Janis, she's probably my favorite. The Doors... The Guess Who," I tacked on, emphasizing the middle word in contrast. "Buffalo Springfield, The Band, Allman Brothers--"

A finger across my lips for silence. "Don't you like any British groups?"

I snapped my teeth at her finger, causing her to jerk it away. "I like Bad Company at lot, some others. The Animals."

She exhaled loudly. Taking my face between her palms, she looked at me solemnly.

"Gracias a Dios... thank God I didn't rush out of here right away and stayed to hear you say that. I can go out with you after all." Again, the giggle spoiled her act. This time she didn't pull away as I wrapped her up in my arms. "But I get control of the music when we're in the car," she said.

"Driver gets control."

"Nope. All me, buster. Give in now; you know I can convince you."

A few minutes later, my hands full of boob and my mouth nuzzling kisses up and down her neck, I asked, "So, what was the quote?"

"Huh?"

"Your mom's quote from Jerry Hall."

"That to hang onto a husband we should 'be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom.' Mom went on to add that Ana and I could hire the first two if we wanted."

"I could probably afford all three salaries," I said with a straight face. Well, that cost me my nice handholds as she grabbed a pillow and the battle was on. I won by cheating. Abandoning the tussle for the pillow, I scooped her thighs out from under her, tipping her backward. While she flailed with her weapon, I buried my face into her and heard the sudden catch of breath. I lifted long enough to say, "If you don't stop... I will stop." She stopped. I didn't.

Fresh from the lightning-fast shower, she kissed me goodbye. "If I disappear, my mother did it, not the butler." The look that accompanied that was half-serious.

"No way I can see you after?"

She shook her head. "And before you ask about tomorrow, Ana's going out." Her face crumpled. "I know, hon. I know. I just..." She looked away. "If you've got any magic recipes for running a business, and starting another, and having a kid who I'm probably going to find out has learning problems and who's too young to be alone, and any way to deal with regular life stuff and still be able to see your boyfriend..." She threw up her hands and met my eyes again, forcing a smile. "And, by see your boyfriend, I mean sometimes jump his bones."

I chuckled dutifully. "I'll think about it. And that's the first time you've called me 'hon' rather than some ridiculous Spanish nickname."

Her smile grew more real. "Don't ever think that I'm taking this casually, osito."

She was five minutes down the road, and I was four minutes into my shower when I started thinking about it. An hour and fifteen minutes later, I was standing outside the elementary school when Bela pulled up.

"Matt?" Her tone was completely puzzled.

"I had a couple of ideas--"

"Maybe we could talk about them later? I'm due inside in a minute or two."

"One of them was to show up for the meeting with the teacher so that I can help with whatever problems he's having..." My voice trailed off as she stiffened. "I thought since I was already helping..." I trailed off again.

"And what other great ideas did you have?"

"I spoke to a couple of mothers in the building whose daughters babysit to see if they'd be interested in a steady gig after school so that you could do the things you need to do."

I may not be super observant, but there was no missing the twin spots of color that appeared on her cheeks.

"Matt." Her voice was carefully controlled. "I care about you. A lot. But we are nowhere near a point where Rafi is anything other than my son. If he has problems, I will decide what to do. That may involve taking you up on and being grateful for -- extraordinarily grateful for -- any help you can provide, but it's my choice. By the same token, if I'm going to leave him in the care of someone else, it will be someone that I've chosen. Is that clear enough?"

I didn't react particularly well inside. I was only trying to help. I could see her point in retrospect; maybe I was a bit ham-handed about it. Okay, no maybe about it. But intent's gotta count for something, and a simple, "No thanks. Let's talk later," rather than the Riot Act would have sufficed. I felt myself getting pissed off, but I did my best to keep it off my face.

I faked a smile; I'd had a year of practice at that. "Fair enough. I'm sorry. It was just an idea. Talk to you later." I turned back toward my car.

"Matt." I could still see the anger on her face, mixed with a little frustration now. "I do care about you. Really."

"It's okay. It was just an idea." I hoped the nod reassured her.

"Matt!"

I turned yet again from the door handle. "What, Bela?" This time, a little of my exasperation leaked through. Why don't you just let me leave now and I'll get over it?

She didn't say anything.

I raised my eyebrows. Well?

She sighed. "You're here. You might as well come in."

I shook my head. "No. You're angry at me. I'm irritated at you." She recoiled at that. "That's distracting and you need to focus in there. And I'm not," I added as she started to respond, "doing the walking-away thing again. You just got done telling me you need to be in there now. So go. We can talk later."

Hours later, I got a text:

≪ I'm still at my parents' or I'd call. Explain to me why you're pissed at me.

≫ I'm guessing your mother didn't murder you.

≪ I might as well put on a big scarlet letter A plus an S for stupid according to her. Please answer my question.

≫ Because you ripped me a new one instead of saying: thanks for the offer of help but I got this.

There was a long pause without even the dots indicating she was typing. Finally,

≪ I'm sorry I reacted that way.

≫ I'm sorry I overstepped.

Mine sounded stilted, even to me but, honestly, her apology struck me the same way: kind of pro forma. And I'd had time enough to brood about it but not time enough to get over it. I thought about leaving it there, but knowing she was totally upset didn't augur well for me relaxing that evening. So, I texted what I hoped was a peace offering.

≫ I would never intentionally interfere in your relationship. He's your son.

I heard Taty come in and wandered out to find her setting some groceries on the counter, the kids helping. She smiled when she saw me and pointed out the kitchen window.

"What?"

"We got a new car!" Nia screamed.

"It's a used Kia," Taty amended. As I made sounds of congratulation, she continued. "What you've done" -- she waved vaguely around the place -- "made it possible."

That made me self-conscious. "It helped me too. Helped me get out of my shell some."

Her head tilted in the mannerism I hadn't seen in a long time, then she nodded.

"I also wanted to talk to you about a job."

Her expression turned serious. "Are you arranging jobs for me again?"

"What? No. You told me not to." She relaxed a little and I explained. "I'm just going to float an idea and then let you figure out what you want to do. My new company bought two buildings. One's commercial on the first floor, two apartments above. We're going to renovate, set up our office on the first floor, rent the upper two. The second is an old factory that we're going to turn into condos. With those projects plus the existing stuff, we're going to need an office manager. Are you interested?"

"I have a job."

"I know. But I suspect ours will provide better benefits. The pay will be comparable or higher. The hours will be easy at first because the workload isn't there, yet. But I'd rather get the right person even if it's overkill for now."

She looked apprehensive. "Why me?"

"You said you'd worked the front at a spa. That means you can deal with people. I know you're sharp enough to do anything the job might need: billing, accounts, that kind of thing."

She nodded. "At community, I was a business major. When do you need an answer?"

"Let's say three to four weeks."

"Okay. And if I say no?"

"Then I'll hire someone else."

"You're not going to be pissed that I didn't take the opportunity you found for me?"

I stopped my automatic response of "What?" and thought about her wording. "Taty, I didn't find an opportunity for you. You're an opportunity for me. I have to hire someone, and hiring a known quantity is always better than potluck. If you say no, it's no big deal."

A grin broke out. "You've turned out to be more okay than I expected."

Uncertain if I should be offended, I asked, "What did you expect?"

"A guy who I probably didn't have to kick in the nuts for coming into my room at night."

"Well, there was a lock on the door after all."

That got a laugh. "Matt, I should be the one to talk to Bela."

"Sounds peachy to me." My tone of voice reflected my mood and brought that head tilt again. "I was going to suggest you talk to her before you made a decision anyway."

• • •

I was a little anxious going for coffee the next morning. Bela hadn't responded to that final text. I figured I was in for either Part Two of the ass-reaming or, at best, a minor thaw. At worst... I didn't want to think about worst.

Through the plate glass, I could see her watching me as I walked up to Grano. There were no customers at the counter and, as I approached, she said something quietly to Ken. His back was to me, but I caught the tail end of his reply, "... thought you wanted me to restock?"

Her answer was cheerful. "Ken, I own this place. Therefore, if I want to take a few minutes to say something to my boyfriend in the back, your response should be, 'As you wish, Your Majesty.'"

He turned and caught sight of me. "Dude!" he said in greeting. Turning back. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

She picked up a drink and handed it to me. "I made it when I saw your car turn in." She led me into the back room. "I don't have very long; that lull out there won't last. I'm sorry I was so intense. I'm just hypersensitive about Rafi and me." I nodded. "If you would like to come over tonight, I will tell you what the teacher said."

I felt that same jar you get when you try to step on a stair that isn't there. The voice and expression implied it was all forgotten. Okaaaaay, I guess we're glossing over this whole thing. I didn't say that out loud. My occasional "speak first, think second" approach was tempered by wariness right at the moment.

But I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Maybe it was just a decade of habit. Liv didn't let things go; you argued them out until one side or the other saw the light, or until you agreed to disagree. Think about this, I advised myself. Smiling, make-me-coffee Bela versus stone-faced Bela? Maybe wait and see, Matt.

I temporized, "I already made plans. You said yesterday that tonight wasn't happening."

She sighed in frustration. "Can you cancel?"

"No. Friends I haven't seen in forever and I'm trying to reconnect..." I shrugged. "I shouldn't." I waited to see if that would provoke a blast of "I'm not more important?" but it didn't.

"I should have said something last night. Oh well."

Yeah, you should've, I agreed. I didn't say that out loud either.

• • •

And, of course, Saturday, "Matt, I borrowed a dress from Ana, but I still don't have my gift for tonight."

"Do you want some company while you shop? I could swing by."

"Umm, I don't think so."

Now what? Nothing, it turned out. "Umm. It's..." She stopped. Finally, in a rush, "We're bringing gag gifts, and I'd be too embarrassed to have you with me when I buy it."

"You're buying something dirty?" I asked, laughing. "You pervert."

"Don't be a jerk, payaso." At my question, "Clown, but you're not the slightest bit funny, so don't quit your day job." Her voice got prim. "The theme of tonight's soirée is rather phallic. I drew the card for--" She finally broke out in laughter. "Well, never mind what I'm bringing. I'm not walking into an adult store for the first time in my life with you. I shoulda used the internet, but I left it too late."

"I so want to go with you."

"I swear to God. If I see your face, I will truly murder you."

"Okay. Okay. I promise. Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do tonight."

"As if!"

At three-something in the morning, my phone rang.

"I'm in an Uber in your parking lot. Can I come up?" The voice was slightly fuzzy.

"Shh," she said as I opened the door, even though I hadn't said anything. "Don't wake Taty." Without waiting for a reply, she headed toward the back. Once inside my room, she carefully closed the door behind me.

"I swear, officer," her hand went up like she was taking an oath in court, "I looked but I didn't touch even once."

"Hot guys in the bar?"

She waggled her finger at me. "No. We sent all the drinks back. Girls night only. But there was a stripper in the..." -- she waved vaguely -- "you know, in the..." She seemed unable to finish that sentence.

"Ah, and that's when you looked but didn't touch," I said.

"That's correct." She unbuttoned her coat. I saw the sash dotted with a few pink images, phallic indeed, and the words: Still Deciding Which.

She saw me notice and pulled it up to look at it. "The single girls had to wear these. The married girls' said: Same Penis Forever." She snickered. "The 'i' was a willy. But the bride's was covered with a million of them and said: And Give Up All This?" She giggled again and then stared at me up and down, bare chest, pajama bottoms. When her eyes returned to mine, they were full of heat. "Did you worry?"

"About?"

"What I did."

"No."

"Good. 'Cause while--" She put her hand on the dresser to catch herself as she lost her balance kicking off a heel. "Whoops! I'm a little drunk." She kicked off the other one.

"Because what?"

"Huh? Oh, because while he was eye candy" -- my eyebrows went up; she waved her finger at me and shook her head no and pointed at her sash -- "I already decided about a penis." Another giggle. "Hook me up, osito." She stalked forward and put her arms around me, her hands plunging under my waistband to cup my ass.

I did my best to oblige her.

Morning came early. She was still out like a light, but I could hear movement from outside.

Poking my head into the living room, I said to Taty, "Bela," with a significant glance at the kids.

She nodded, failing to suppress her smile, "As long as she's put together when she comes out."

"What's that mean, Mom?" Terrell demanded.

"That she got enough sleep, sweetie."

I grabbed two glasses and a carton of juice and headed back in. It took a long time, a handful of aspirin, and a fair bit of hydration. There was quite a bit of quickly hushed complaining during the process. But eventually, there was movement, and what emerged from the shower an hour later was reasonably presentable.

She eyed me ruefully. "Did I really show up for a booty call, drunk off my ass?"

"Yup."

She shook her head gingerly. "Sorry."

"I'm not. I mean, I got a woman who already had her motor running from a stripper."

She looked aghast. "I did not! Please say that isn't true."

"Well, you were definitely in the mood." She looked so upset that I relented. "You assured me you didn't touch, and you did a great job of convincing me I was the one you wanted to hook you up." I grinned at her. "Your words and I found them kinda sexy."

"Oh, Matt." She put her head down on my shoulder. "Please don't think bad about me."

I stroked her hair and assured her that I wouldn't hold a bachelorette blowout against her "as long as the line gets drawn at lap dance."

"Ohmygod. I didn't do that, did I?"

"I have no idea. And, truthfully, if you find out, I don't want to know."

She smiled weakly. "Remind me of this moment if you ever go to a bachelor party."

Two hours later, I got a call. "My mom slept at my place with Rafi last night. I thought she'd take him to the house, but he insisted."

"And?"

"And that means she knows I didn't come home last night. And now my father does. I'm commanded to produce you for inspection at next Thursday's dinner."

• • •

It was my last day with Abode. I was ready to start my new venture. John had given two weeks' notice and would start soon.

"Caitlyn, can we talk for a moment?" The lunch wagon had rolled up and I spoke before she headed off.

She looked at me with a mixture of resentment and apprehension, then nodded stiffly.

"When I heard about you talking to Bela to warn her off me--" I saw the sharp reaction and quickly added, "I'm not upset about it." She settled back, surprised. "I found out that you think I was only dating you for sex. Why?"