The Wish List

by Linda Leigh Hargrove

  “Oh.”

  “She was 9 or 10 years old when you guys left San Antonio.”

  “Yeah.” Gulp. “I need to tell you something…it’s long overdue.”

  He leaned closer.

  “Hey, there he is!” someone shouted from behind them.

  Freddie saw the twin girls from before, followed by three larger kids. They were coming toward her and Zeus at the fast pace. A woman in a red scarf trotted far behind, calling for them to stop running inside.

  “Zeus de Sousa,” the biggest boy yelled. “Dude, it is you.”

  “Oh no,” Zeus muttered. “Not now.”

  “Wha…” Freddie started.

  “Whoa,” Zeus yelled.

  In the next instant, the happy energetic kid was upon them. A heart beat later, all three of them were in a tangle of evergreen boughs and tinsel. She fell back on Zeus and heard him grunt. The boy rolled away from them, moaning in pain.

  “My arm,” he cried. “Mommy, my arm.”

  His mother descended upon them and yanked the boy to his feet. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “I got pine needles in my arm.” He whimpered. “See. The prickles hurt.”

  “Young man,” the mother scolded. “I told you to stop running. No gaming for you this afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry but I tripped and fell.” The boy’s shoulders sagged as he trudged along to join the other kids.

  His mother turned to Freddie and Zeus. “Are you two okay? I’m so sorry. He’s such a big fan, Mr. de Sousa. Loves your channel. Or I should say, your former channel. I’m so so sorry this happened.”

  Two store employees rushed over with concern and alarm on their faces.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Zeus said from his reclined position. With a pained expression, he looked over to Freddie. “You okay, Frederica?”

  “Yep.” She brushed needles and red and green sparkles from the sleeves of her sweater. “I’m all Christmasy but I’m okay. Thanks.”

  The boy’s mother began talking with the bookstore staff. There was pointing and loud talking. The Christmas cheer had evaporated. A couple of bystanders were recording the event on their phones.

  A groan from Zeus drew Freddie’s attention away from the discussion.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Freddie,” Zeus whispered. “Because I’ll need your help getting to a doctor. I can’t move my arm without pain.”

  Chapter 4

  Freddie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.” She stepped back from the hospital bathroom mirror and sighed. “Yes, Freddie Martinez, you are sorry.”

  The bathroom door opened. “Freddie? You still in here?”

  It was Chelsea.

  “What are you doing, Freddie?”

  “Stalling in the bathroom.” She let out a sad chuckle and pointed at one of the bathroom stalls. “That’s kind of funny. Stalling. Right?”

  “Oh, Freddie. This is so sad. Were you in here talking to the mirror?”

  “Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t.”

  “Come out and talk to the man.”

  “I think he’s famous.”

  “Famous? Like GQ model famous?”

  “No. Like he has tons of followers and fans from online communities. Kid gamers mostly, I think. He’s got a channel. YouTube. Maybe other places.”

  “That can’t be.” Chelsea unlocked her cell phone and did a quick search. Her eyes bugged at what she saw. “He’s legit. That’s probably why he was wearing that coat. He was trying to hide. Look at this Zeus de Sousa gaming merch.”

  “Already did that.”

  “All these followers. YouTube. And on Instagram too. Oh my goodness. He even has fan pages on some site called Game WikiMania. This is a totally different world, Freddie. Who knew?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m gonna get sued by a famous gamer and all the world’s gonna know it.”

  “Freddie stop this. The mom and that boy who knocked you guys over just left Zeus’ bedside. The mom was so apologetic. Offered to pay his medical bills. He turned them down. Said he wasn’t going to press charges. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “This means he’s really mad at me then.”

  “Stop being silly. He was so into you in the bookstore before Marc and I left you. Why would he be mad at you? Calling him a toad when he was 18 years old? C’mon.”

  “You’re right, dear friend, dear voice of reason. There has to be some statute of limitation on insulting someone. I was only 14 years old. What did I know? I was shallow and vain and short-sighted.” Freddie faced the mirror again. “And I’m so sorry for treating you so poorly, Zeus de Sousa, but you were short and fat back then. Now, you’re hotter than a young Antonio Banderas.” She looked over her shoulder at Chelsea. “You remember how he looked in that movie with Salma Hayek.”

  Chelsea placed a hand on Freddie’s shoulders. “Freddie, I love you but you’re driving me nuts. Just listen to you. You’re not making a lick of sense. It’s a miracle that you drove him here. Look at me.”

  Freddie looked at her friend. “I’m not a total ditz, Chels.”

  “Didn’t say you were. You’re stressed out. I get it. Right now, you and I are gonna go talk to Zeus. Marc’s waiting for me outside so I can’t stay much longer.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She followed Chelsea out of the bathroom and down a long white cinder-blocked hallway.

  Freddie hesitated in front of the thin white curtain that surrounded Zeus’ bed.

  “Zeus,” Chelsea said and raised her fist like she was about to knock on a door. “Knock. Knock. It’s me and Freddie. Can we come in?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure.”

  Chelsea pushed back the curtain. He was seated bare-chested on the vinyl table with a white crumpled sheet of paper under him. The sweater he wore in the bookstore was draped over a chair in the corner. His left arm was sheathed in a blue cotton sling.

  His eyebrows drew together as he glared at them. “Sorry, I can’t get my sweater.”

  The definition of the muscles in his upper body and arms distracted her. He wasn’t a perfect body-building specimen, by any stretch, but he didn’t look like a pushover either.

  Freddie was speechless.

  “If this isn’t a good time,” Chelsea said. “We can come back.”

  Zeus gave them a one-shoulder shrug. “Now is good. Before the pain meds kick in.”

  Freddie took a trembling breath. “I …uh…I need to apologize.”

  Zeus’ glare intensified. He lifted his injured arm away from his body and let it fall back down. “This wasn’t your fault. It was that clumsy kid. I just spoke with his mother. I’m not pressing charges against him so why should I …”

  She cut him off. “No, it’s not that. It’s for what I didn’t do.”

  His facial expressions softened. “Didn’t do?”

  “I’d better not keep Marc waiting any longer,” Chelsea said and patted Zeus’ knee. “Feel better. Call or text Marc if you need anything else.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Chelsea.”

  Chelsea gave Freddie an encouraging glance and left.

  With Chelsea gone, Freddie launched into her speech. “I’ve been a mean girl.”

  She thought back to the summer of her 15th year. The heat of Texas filled the lacy bell of her quinceañera dress as she waited on the chapel’s stone steps before the service. It was maddening. Would she make her mother proud? Would her father step on her toes during their dance? Was she ready to begin this journey into womanhood?

  The entire summer had been a strange mix of magic and disappointment. It was the summer she’d decided that a career in construction technology was for her. Her brothers and father had been against the plan. Her mother’s voice had won out and Freddie had been allowed to attend the camp. There were a few other girls there. They all seemed shy and reluctant to dive into things, like they were waiting for the boys’ approval. Freddie was the exa
ct opposite. With her humor and risk taker attitude in tact, she’d jumped right in, which rubbed all but one of the boys the wrong way. His name was Juan Jesús de Sousa y Garcia. Jay, for short. Ray had tormented her but Jay had been a godsend.

  “You don’t have to be a math superstar,” Jay told her that first day. “You just have to survive it and know how to use it. Don’t let it intimidate you.”

  Wise advice for an eighteen-year-old who had never gone to school in the US and whose parents didn’t even speak English well. She was “good at math” but he was a genius. After the first few days, he became the unofficial Calc tutor for the group of 30 black and brown students in the camp. Jesús was sharp but humble, and he knew how to make her laugh. Even though her father looked down on the de Sousa family, Felix Martinez allowed Jay and his family to attend his baby girl’s quinceañera.

  That night, while all the damas and chambelanes continued to dance with her other guests, she walked with Jesús in the chapel courtyard. A silver sliver of a moon hung overhead when he kissed her.

  Her first kiss.

  It was perfect in every way, except one. He was at least a hundred pounds heavier and two inches shorter than her.

  “You poured out your heart to me that night in the church courtyard,” Freddie said, her throat tightening. “You proposed marriage and kissed me. And I laughed …”

  Her tears welled up. Where was all this emotion coming from all of a sudden. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before going on. “I laughed at you and called you a toad because you were shorter and well … Can I be honest?”

  He gave her a cautious look. “Sure. I think...”

  “I thought you were fat.”

  One of his eyebrows quirked upwards. “I was fat. Sitting in front of a computer coding and gaming and eating junk food all the time. I was a porker.”

  “I didn’t take it that far.”

  “Your refusal did hurt. We had some good times together that summer. I thought you felt something for me. Like we were more than just friends from camp. I told you things about my life and my plans that I told no one. In my mind, after I finished my degree at UT San Antonio. I wanted to make a life in Texas with someone wonderful and pretty and smart. Someone like you. You understood me like no one else did. Or so I thought.”

  Freddie’s shoulders shook as she held the tears back. He sat there expressionless, watching her, judging her.

  Deep breath, girl. Hold it together.

  “I’m so sorry, Jay. I was a shallow 15-year-old girl. My Papi called me his little woman but I was anything but.”

  He looked away. “It took me a while, but I forgave you. Why do you think I wrote you and emailed you?”

  Tears were streaming down her face now. “Why do you have to be so good about this, Jesús? I knowingly ignored letter and emails. I’m such a bad person. I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

  His eyes were on her again but still there was no compassion in his deep set dark brown eyes. “Why are you apologizing now?”

  “Because I thought you’d sue me or something.” A nervous giggle bubbled up. “Sorry.”

  He frowned.

  “I confess,” she said wiping her wet cheeks. “I Googled you. I don’t have much money but I’m willing to pay your medical bills. I don’t want to be known as the woman who took Zeus de Sousa out of commission.”

  “Stop. Just stop. I’m not that guy anymore. I got famous as a gamer during and after college. That’s what all those kids back in the bookstore were geeking out about, at least the older ones did. The kid gamers, that is. The Zeus de Sousa you’re looking at now is a small business owner, not a YouTuber.”

  “Well. Okay, Zeus de Sousa, small business owner, how can I make this up to you? How can I redeem myself and make this right?”

  He let out a quick breath. “I’m going to be out of commission for a while with a hairline fracture, according to my doctor. My brother won’t be able to come to Wake City for at least three days and we need to finish setting up our business.”

  “I can help with that. I’m a business owner too.”

  “You own a business?”

  His doubt was palpable.

  “Ouch. You sound like my family. Yes, I do own a business.”

  “Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “It’s a tiny home business. I’m still working my 9-to-5 in Raleigh but I’ve managed to build one home for a real client. I think I’m doing okay even if my parents have their doubts.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds. “Tiny homes, huh? Okay, Freddie Martinez, business owner, let me put some thought to this and pull a to-do list together. Marc is setting me up in an apartment in town.” He slipped a cell phone from his back pocket. “What’s your cell number so I can text you the address when I get settled?”

  Freddie rattled off her number. “Does this mean I’m forgiven and you’re not going to sue me or drag my name in the internet mud?”

  He laughed a little. Man, he had pretty teeth. “Didn’t know there was mud on the internet.”

  “Oh yeah, plenty of miry places on the inter webs. Reputations get lost in them all the time.”

  “You always could manage to make me smile.” The lopsided grin he gave her made her heart stutter. “Yes, I do forgive you. I accept your apology. I figure you can handle some minor things for me for a few days. I’ll have to check with my brother if he’s okay with that and we’ll see. Surely, you can’t run my business in the ground in three days.” He extended his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for your honesty, temporary business partner.”

  She stepped closer and shook his hand. “Your wish is my command.”

  Chapter 5

  Elsa reached across her breakfast table and touched Freddie’s arm. “You okay, honey? You’re awful quiet this morning. Where’s that Freddie sparkle?”

  Sparkle? She found it hard to sparkle when she felt like she was constantly battling feelings of failure. First the horrible fight with her family, then breaking a man’s arm.

  “I’m good.” Freddie pushed the unopened yogurt aside. “Just not hungry right now.”

  Are you okay?

  A simple question that any well-meaning grandmother would ask her granddaughter’s friend. But Freddie had learned from years of associating with Elsa Parker aka Gramm, that nothing was simple with this senior sister with the sassy salt-and-pepper afro. Elsa had a secret mission. She was the Husband List Lady.

  Gramm placed the back of her hand against Freddie’s forehead. “Not coming down with the flu, are you? You need to be careful. Keep your strength up. Stay hydrated. Don’t get too stressed out.” Mrs. Parker started rummaging in a little basket in the middle of the table. “I think I’ve got some sample packs of vitamin C chewables somewhere around here.”

  Freddie chuckled. Once a nurse, always a nurse. “I’m fine.” She held up her empty glass. “I’ll have some more juice, please. How about that?”

  Elsa Parker nodded her approval. “There you go. OJ or apple? I’ll get it for you.”

  “Thanks.” Freddie handed her glass over.

  After leaving the hospital yesterday, she’d gone to Gramm Parker’s house. The three of them has spent the evening talking about Chelsea’s wedding plans. Or rather, Chelsea and her grandmother had. Freddie had spectated for the most part. Her brain cells had been preoccupied with thoughts of Zeus. Time had altered his exterior in many pleasing ways, but he seemed harder. She wasn’t sure if she liked this tougher, rougher version of her former friend.

  Former friend?

  She didn’t much care for that description.

  Business partner.

  That’s the arrangement they had. It was strictly business. They had sealed the arrangement with a handshake. It was all she could do to hide the little thrill she felt shaking his hand.

  Was it because he was a mild social media sensation and probably very well off finan
cially? Maybe so. She did honestly know about business, although admittedly she didn’t know the first thing about computer coding. Hopefully, he’d give her some organization and clerical stuff to do.

  While her hostess visited the fridge, Freddie glanced down at Elsa’s Bible. The woman’s Bible reading habit was enviable. Freddie was happy if she read the Word of God three times a week outside of church service. Life got so busy. Maybe when she was retired like Elsa, life would slow down.

  “I’m sorry Chelsea’s not downstairs yet,” Elsa said, her back to Freddie. “After you went to bed, we stayed up looking at bridesmaid gowns online until midnight.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Elsa kept shifting things around in the fridge and freezer. “You know if you don’t want that yogurt, I could whip up a banana smoothie for you. I freeze the bananas, so it’ll be nice and frosty, almost like having a milk shake for breakfast.”

  “No, I’m good. Just juice.” After checking that Elsa was still preoccupied in the fridge, Freddie lifted the front cover of Elsa’s Bible. The corner of a note card slid out. At the top, in curvy letters, was a list of items with little check boxes by them.

  Godly. Leader. Humble. Generous.

  Ah, the infamous husband list.

  Freddie resisted the temptation to inch the card all the way out in the open. To see the entire list. To confront Elsa about this asinine notion that you can just wish up a mate.

  With a grunt, Elsa straightened from her stooped position. “These old knees.”

  Freddie stuffed the note card back into the Bible before Elsa turned around. “You’re a young chica, Grammsie. Age is just a number.”

  Elsa Parker laughed at Freddie’s joke as she sat back down and pushed a full glass of juice across the table. “Have you downloaded the Wish List app yet?”

  “What do you know about an app, Grammsie Parker?” Freddie teased.

  The sound of shuffling feet drew Freddie’s attention to the kitchen doorway.

  “Morning, y’all,” Chelsea said as she made a beeline for the coffee pot.