Beautiful Outlaw(19)
“Leave her alone, hija, she doesn’t want to go.” Nina calls from the other room, bringing me back to the conversation.
“But, Mamá.” Rachel moans out, as her mother walks into the room.
As she walks into the kitchen, she lays a loving hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “No, Shay never gets any time alone. Let her have the day to herself.”
Rachel nods, but doesn’t lose her pout. “Fine, but it’s your loss.”
With that, she moves forward and kisses my cheek, before grabbing the keys and heading to the front door. “I’m driving, Mamá.”
Nina giggles, sounding twenty years younger. “Go on and get the car started; I’ll be out in a minute.”
After the door slams shut, she walks over to me and places her hands on my cheeks. “Are you going to be okay here alone all day?”
I smile at the concern in her voice, wanting to ease the worry she is feeling. About a month ago, I finally broke down and told her the truth,—the entire truth with all the gory details. She knows more about my past than any other person in this world. Since then, she has treated me with kid gloves, always waiting for me to break. At first, I felt like a burden to her, but after a while of watching her with family and friends, I came to realize it’s just Nina’s nature to be protective.
Even the bikers, the ones she said that used to loathe her because of the color of her skin, stop by to see her on a regular basis. They’re always around for cook-outs, morning coffee, or just a quick chat. What they actually come for is Nina’s charm. Everyone wants to be on the receiving end of her smile. I guess even badasses need to be coddled from time to time.
“I’ll be fine; I promise. It will be a nice change from all the teenage madness.” I smile at her, letting her see the affection I feel for her daughter. “I’m going to enjoy the alone time. I love Rachel, but she runs me ragged with all her shopping,”
She lets out a laugh, pulling me in for a hug. “She loves you, Cariño and wants to spend time with you. All that drama is how she shows that love.”
“I know she does, and I love her too.” I give her a squeeze before stepping back. “I love you too, Nina.”
Lifting a hand to pat my cheek, she smiles lovingly. “I know you do, my hija.”
By the end of my first month here, I went from just a houseguest to a friend. A month later I graduated to daughter status. It was uncomfortable at first, still missing my mom so much. I now adore being called her honorary hija. If I can’t have my mom around, I feel privileged to have her.
I miss Mom desperately, though. Dad too, but it’s different with him. I don’t have the constant worry that I will never be able to see him again like I do with Mom. With each day that passes, not calling them gets harder. I desperately want to hear their voices; I want to tell them I’m happier than I have been in years, and make sure that Mom is okay.
A toot of the horn has Nina grabbing her purse from the table. “We’ll be back in few hours.”
“Okay, have fun.”
She throws up a hand in goodbye, before heading out the door. As soon as I hear it shut behind her, I grab a bowl from the cabinet and pull out the flour. Finally, I turn on the iPod and hit my 80’s playlist. When the first notes hit the air, I mentally thank Rachel for forcing me to buy it. Seconds later, I’m belting out the lyrics, begging for someone to hit me with their best shot right along with Pat Benatar. I lose myself in the freedom of being able to sing and dance around the kitchen, while mixing my favorite cookies.
What the fuck?
Bowie
Pulling into the driveway, I notice Nina’s car is gone. I climb off my bike, hoping I didn’t make the trip for nothing. Slowly making my way towards the door, I can hear the sounds of some sucky-ass eighties pop coming from the house. Good, at least someone is here.
When I pull the door open, an off key voice attempting to sing Love Shack by The B-52’s assaults my ears, causing me to laugh. I stifle it as I quietly walk to the kitchen. After reaching the door, I stop dead in my tracks. The hottest fuckin’ chick I’ve ever seen is dancing around the kitchen, singing into a dough-covered spoon.
Her hair is full of waves, stopping at mid back. It’s the color of winter wheat, right before the harvest. I watch as it sways back and forth, following the rhythm of her hips. My eyes lock on her ass, which is covered in a pair of cutoff jean shorts. They’re frayed on the edges, barely covering her ass. I lean a hip against the door, and look my fill.
My eyes slowly move down her body, taking in every inch of her tanned legs. There is a small tattoo near her ankle, a beautiful purple heart dripping bright red blood. Above it, the word Mom is written in an elaborate script. The skin surrounding it is still red, letting me know just how new the ink is. I’m still staring at the perfection, when her feet stop moving and she lets out a shrill shout. My eyes instantly jerk up, landing on the woman that has been on my mind for the last four months.