Chapter One
“In the garden of good and evil there were more than two.”
Paul Mattling stared down at the spread of tarot cards on the kitchen table, the devil card holding a prominent spot. “I always get that card.”
“Si, you do, always.”
“That sucks.” Paul lifted his head to smile at the beautiful, middle-aged woman on the other side of the table. “Is it bad luck?”
“He’s watching you—both of you,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at him. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun this evening, her tanned face smooth and radiant. With a Cuban accent that was subtle, but lulling, she gave him a secret smile and promised, “He’s waiting.”
“Come on, Mama. He hates that shit. Why do you always torture him with it?”
Paul turned, frowning up at his best friend Danny Carlow when he came around the corner. He was tall like his father, but Danny’s face was his mother’s, dark and beautiful, with nicely arched eyebrows and full lips. The resemblance between them was uncanny and Paul often wondered if that meant Danny was going to look as young as his mother did when he was forty-five.
“I don’t hate it,” Paul complained, uncomfortable with the idea of Danny’s mother getting her feelings hurt. He had known her since he was very young and she was one of the few genuinely kind people he was comfortable around. He would do anything for her, even sit at a table at least twice a week staring at the devil card and hearing ominous predictions. “It’s educational. I read that tarot cards used to be just regular playing cards. You know, people played games with them. It wasn’t until later they were used for fortune telling. I think that’s fascinating.”
“Yeah, riveting.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck impatiently. “Isn’t there a lake with our name on it?”
“Right,” Paul said, grimacing. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carlow. Can we finish next time?”
“Sure.” She gave him a bright smile and reached across the table, squeezing his hand. “You’re a good boy.”
“We gotta go, Mama,” Danny said in a bored voice. “He’s not allowed to play with those anyway. His daddy would kick the shit out of him if he knew.”
Paul pushed away from the table, knowing how Danny got when he had his mind set on something. Nothing distracted him from it and he could get really snappy out of irritation. Paul, on the other hand, was a peacemaker by nature, and was used to being Danny’s buffer to the world. He did it automatically, never minding the task or resenting Danny’s difficult attitude.
“For you.” Mrs. Carlow walked over to the counter and grabbed an apple out of the basket. She handed it to Paul, who took it without complaint. “To keep the doctor away.” She turned to Danny and handed him an apple as well. “They’re good for you.”
When Danny turned to leave, she reached for him, tugging him down to place a kiss on his cheek despite his look of annoyance. He wiped at it and stared at the smear of red lipstick on his fingers. “Oh come on,” he groaned, wiping at his cheek again. “I’ve spent my whole life covered in lipstick. When am I too old for it?”
“Never,” she said with a smile, staring up at him with pride and love glowing in her dark eyes. “You’re my only baby, Chico. That means you’ll never be too old for it.”
Danny rolled his eyes and bit into the apple, leaving it between his teeth as he walked out of the kitchen.
“Boy, where’re you going at this time of night?”
Danny did an abrupt about-face, the apple still in his mouth as he headed toward the back door in the kitchen rather than deal with his father. His response to the question hollered from the living room was a rude hand gesture only Paul and Mrs. Carlow could see.
Mrs. Carlow huffed and turned to call out of the kitchen, “He’s going night fishing with Paul.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Danny’s father asked with obvious sarcasm, his Southern accent far heavier than his wife’s Cuban one. An extremely successful businessman, he was a functional alcoholic for most of the day, but by ten o’clock his fondness for Jack Daniel’s was always noticeable. Unpleasant sober, he was a truly dislikable drunk. His voice was slurred as he growled in disgust, “Fuckin’ faggots.”
Danny’s entire body stiffened, the apple falling out of his mouth. He caught it deftly as he turned around, his dark eyes narrowed in fury. His mother reached up, placing her fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth. He was obviously determined to start something that wouldn’t end well.