One, two, three . . . I counted to myself to keep from screaming at her.
“So, this isn’t about Nevada. This is about Vegas.”
“Sins of the father,” Consuela said with a shrug. “I’ve asked Vegas not to have my son around his whores time and time again, but he refuses to listen.”
“Are you talking about Maria?” I asked.
“Sí, la mayor puta, Maria.”
I knew exactly what the word puta meant. It was any ugly slur in any language, and one I didn’t like to hear any woman use against another.
“Consuela, you’re being unfair. You know how much Vegas loves his son.”
“Vegas isn’t fit to be a father to my son,” she said matter-of-factly.
It took everything in me not to haul off and smack her for that comment about my son.
“Unfit? You know that’s not true. You brought Nevada to our home so he could be with us. You knew he needed to be with his father,” I said. “Before you brought him to us, that poor boy was living from boarding school to boarding school and anywhere else you decided to drop him off. You never spent one Christmas, Easter, or Thanksgiving with him. For the past three years, we’ve done nothing but provide stability and love because we are his family. There is nothing unfit about my son or my home.”
She softened her tone just a little. “I’m sorry, Chippy. I was not talking about your home. I thank you for opening your home and all that you’ve done. But I must do what’s best as a mother.”
“Oh, please. You’re doing what’s best for yourself,” I snapped angrily.
Consuela slid to the edge of the sofa. “Don’t blame this on me. It’s your son’s fault.”
“He has more than his share of blame, I’ll admit that, but you’re not innocent in this either,” I told her.
“Me? What did I do?” Consuela stood up, indignant, but I knew it was an act. We were cut from the same cloth, Consuela and I. “He’s the one giving him condoms and trying to make my baby into a man too fast.”
I stood and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Our eyes met.
“I understand, Consuela. I’m a mother too, remember? It’s hard watching your child grow up sometimes. You want to protect them. It’s your instinct. But Nevada’s not a baby anymore. He’s a young man. He needs his father, whether you like it or not. And we both know Vegas wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”
“What do you want me to do, Chippy? Allow him and the puta free will with my son?” Consuela frowned. “That whore will never raise my child.”
“First, I want you to stop calling her that. Every time you refer to Maria as a whore, you’re teaching Nevada to disrespect women. You expect Vegas to be a good example for Nevada, but what about you?”
Her face softened. “Oh.”
“Second, you’re his mother—nobody else. And I’ll fight Vegas, Marie, and anyone else if they try to say different,” I stated forcefully. “I’m not playing that shit.”
She blinked a few times, looking surprised. “Thank you,” she said.
“You don’t need to thank me. But you and my son need to figure this shit out and get it together. That boy is the future of both of our families, and you are his parents. From now on, you stay at our house, not in a hotel, and I don’t care if Vegas likes it or not. He’s going to have to deal with it because you are family.” I could see that she was finally listening and accepting what I was saying. “Oh, and another thing. There will be no more of this talk about California and boarding schools. That won’t be happening. Forget about Vegas. I am the one who won’t allow it. Do you know how selfish that would be of you to haul him off to California and dump him in a boarding school while you’re off jet-setting to work? Let’s face it, Consuela. We all know that as much as you love Nevada, you are one hell of a businesswoman—a successful one—and you won’t allow anything, including being a mother, to stop you from handling your business.” I stared at her and allowed my words to settle into her mind for a moment.
“Now, it’s Labor Day weekend. Enjoy your time with your son. Talk to him and explain why you’re concerned about him having a condom. But I expect him to be back home in time for school Tuesday morning.”
Consuela took a deep breath, straightened her back, then nodded her head once. “Fine. But I don’t want that wh—” she hesitated. “I don’t want that woman near my son.”
“You have my word.” I was relieved that she agreed to my demands, but I wasn’t finished. “One more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Do you mind coming with me and my grandson to lunch?”
“I’d be honored,” she said with a smile that looked genuine.
“Nevada!” she called out. When he didn’t answer, she yelled again. “Nevada!”
After another few seconds of silence, we both went to his room. She knocked loudly, but still no answer. Consuela opened the door only for us to discover that the room was empty. Two drawers were emptied and left wide open, and there was no sign of his laptop or knapsack.
I turned to Consuela. “Where could he have gone?”
Roman
28
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the guys with the coconuts for balls. I wasn’t expecting to see you two anytime soon. I thought you’d be on a beach drinking piña coladas and strawberry daiquiris after your last score.” Lex smirked when we walked into the hardware store, but his eyes didn’t leave the bag Denny had slung over his shoulder. “So, who’d you hit this time, Jacob the Jeweler?”
“Funny, Lex, but you ain’t gonna be making jokes once you see what we got.” Denny patted the duffle bag.
“Is that so? Well, let’s see what you got.” Lex motioned for us to follow him into
