His Wild Blue Rose

by A. J. Downey

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean, is the pay they’re offering worth the extra risk you would be taking?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not necessarily why I am considering taking the job,” I told her.

  “Why did you resist it before?” she asked.

  It was a fair question, so I answered, “Because it’s a lot of training, a lot of sitting around and waiting and then short bursts of activity. The street, while pretty boring, I'm at least doing something all the time.”

  “Are you saying that SWAT is too low-key for you?” she asked, amused.

  “Eh, kind of. I mean, it’s a lot more dangerous, but those spates of danger are few and far between, comparatively, and I would still be on patrol, I would just be more on certain taskforces, which is sort of how I ended up shot the first time.”

  “Look,” she said dryly, “let’s not phrase it that way, shall we? It’s just how you got shot – there is no the first time. Getting shot needs to be a one-time deal, if at all possible. I’m not sure my heart would take it if you managed to get shot again. Not on my watch, handsome.”

  I smiled and she pushed up enough to kiss me. We made out for a little bit and I said, “So I’m not hearing that you’re opposed to me making a move up the food and income chain.”

  “Hmm, would it mean more money? Yes. The thing I worry about is, would it mean less time?”

  “Less time?”

  “With me and with Manolo,” she murmured. I smoothed my lips together and nodded slowly.

  “It could,” I said.

  She shook her head, “Then, no. Money doesn’t buy happiness, and if we can make it for a while with the help of the alimony, fine, but we need to strike a balance. Do some financial planning so we don’t become dependent on it, but there has to be another way. You know? One where you’re happier with what you earn, but not having to sacrifice your time off or the happiness of your family. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, it does, Chica. Which is why I asked. It was just an idea I was kicking around but if it doesn’t make you happy, fuckin’ forget it.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, and her tone was so careful, so controlled I rolled my eyes.

  “Out with it. What’re you afraid of?”

  She smiled and laughed slightly, but whether because she was amused I had her pegged, or whether to buy herself a little time, I didn’t know.

  Her face sobered and she said, “You’re sure you won’t resent me for telling you you should say ‘No?’”

  I caressed her cheek and said, “No, babe. Your reasons are valid. Your concerns, while not ones I immediately thought of, are pretty solid. I was on the fence before I even brought it up, which is why I brought it up. You helped me make my decision. ‘No’ to moving up for the money, but I’m still going to try and score a day-shift without losing my shift differential.”

  She wrinkled her nose slightly. “What’s a shift differential?” she asked.

  “Never heard of one?”

  “Husband was white collar our entire marriage, I sort of am, owning my own business, plus, florist shop,” she reminded me.

  “Maybe it’s a blue-collar working-stiff thing, and yeah, I could see how it wouldn’t apply. Anyway, I earn a little bit more per hour working swing than the day guys do, and graveyard earns the most. It’s incentive to take on a less popular shift.”

  “How much would the drop in pay be for dropping down to day shift? That’s basically what you’re saying, right? That you would have to take a pay cut?”

  “Yeah, well, I mean –“ I told her and she nodded carefully, and I could tell she was struggling to do the math in her head.

  “Well, it would mean we would have to somehow pay less for housing than we do in rent now to make up for it somehow. I don’t know that I see that happening.”

  I nodded. “Never know, depends on how much of a deposit you make and interest and all that happy horse shit.”

  She giggled softly and said, “True, that’s true.”

  “I guess the first stop would be talking to a real estate guy. I don’t know, I’ve never bought a house.”

  “Yes, you would need to find an agent,” she agreed.

  “Okay,” I said gently.

  “Where would you want to live?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, inside the city, outside? Condo or house? Townhouse?”

  “You know, what about you?” I asked.

  “What about me?” she asked, surprised.

  “What was the one thing you always wanted in a place but never got?”

  She sighed out and said, “Truthfully? A yard. Didn’t even have to be a big one. Or barring a yard, what about just a couple of planter boxes on a balcony or along the window ledge?”

  I chuckled, the brownstone looking better and better, if a little big for just the three of us.

  “I want to take you and Manolo to go look at a place,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, when?”

  “Soon as I can arrange it.”

  “Okay,” she said evenly and carefully.

  I laughed slightly and said, “I think you’ll like it, Chica. It’s got the best of all our worlds. I just need to check out a few more things.”

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  “A neighborhood over from Old Bayside,” I said.

  She gave a low whistle. “Sounds expensive.”

  I shook my head, “Needs too much work; the neighborhood fell hard, and it’s just now crawling its way out by way of gentrification.” Indigo City’s latest rounds of growing pains was seeing low-income folks being pushed further out to the fringes. I hated being part of that problem but I had to look out for my family first and above all else.

  “It’s getting there, but if we get in now it’s doable.”

  “Then I guess, if you have your heart set on it, we should go look soon.”

  “Yeah, I do, kind of,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Can’t give it all away at once,”

  She smiled, “I suppose that’s fair enough.” she kissed me softly and we held each other, drifting off to sleep and effectively ending the conversation. I was hoping that we got to go see the place I was talking about soon, because every time I talked about it her eyes lit up with excitement. I noticed there wasn’t much that did that for her, so when it did happen, it ignited my joy just a little bit.

  I loved this apartment, and being here with her. I couldn’t deny that I was going to miss it and it was doable, staying here with Manolo, with a bit of rearranging but… she avoided my room, my bed, for a reason. I’d noticed. I figured it didn’t feel like the place for her, with how many other girls had been through it, and maybe it was petty, maybe it was selfish of me to be a little upset about that, but it was how she felt and I could respect that.

  In a new place, it wouldn’t be like that. I mean, I know it would be the same bed but it wouldn’t be the same space. Instead of ‘your place’ or ‘my place’ it would be the definition of ‘our place’ and I was surprised to realize just how much I wanted that, how much I ached to be a part of something bigger than myself, a family, even though it wasn’t my family. It was my sister’s and Manolo would always be Maria’s son. Lys wouldn’t replace that. She couldn’t.

  Still, the last few weeks of her helping and being part of mine and Hombrecito’s life had been the most contentment I had ever felt. It felt right, and yet, still a modicum of guilt came with it. I felt so terrible that Maria was missing out on her son’s life and would be for years to come, by the sounds of it. For one mistake that she knew not to make! As pissed as I was about that, I couldn’t deny that it was a mistake she likely felt trapped into committing for several socio-economic reasons, reasons that, though I had been blessed and privileged my entire adult life not to have experienced any of them myself, I could understand from the point of view of we grew up on the same damn st
reets in the same damn projects.

  I think Angel could too, except he was quicker to forgiveness than me. Angel was the one to see her and report to me, and though I didn’t feel that was necessarily right, I knew it was for the best. Lys gently urged me to make the trip to the jail, but I wasn’t ready and I knew if I went, my temper would get the best of me and make things far harder and worse than they needed to be.

  I slid into sleep hoping that all would eventually work out for the best, like so much seemed to have worked out for me since Lys had come into my life.

  32

  Golden…

  “Angel!” I called out and my twin ducked his head out from below-deck on his live-aboard boat.

  “What’s up, man?” he started to say, then looked over at me, and with a much-sobered look said, “Oh.”

  “Got any beer?” I asked.

  “Yup, come on board.”

  I stepped up onto the edge of his boat, careful in the dress shoes I was in, and dropped down onto the work-in-progress that was his deck.

  “Looks like you almost got her finished,” I said.

  “Yup, phase one is almost complete.” He ducked back down below and came up with two bottles as I pulled my indigo blue satin tie loose from around my neck and popped the top two buttons on my collar.

  “Take it you went to see Maria?”

  “Yup.”

  “Also take it that it didn’t go to well?” He twisted off the top of the first beer and handed it over.

  “Nope.”

  “Lys?” he asked softly. I gave him a scowl and he nodded.

  “I get it,” I said. “I totally do. If he were my son I wouldn’t want another man raising him. It’d burn me up just thinking about it, but what pissed me off wasn’t the fact she was pissed about another woman being around her son –”

  “It’s the fact that Lys isn’t Latina,” he finished for me and twisted the cap off his own beer. “I saw that coming.”

  “Shit, man. Maria was raised same as you and me. Where does she get this shit from?” I demanded.

  “No fucking idea, man. Mamma and Abuela both would be fit to be tied if they were still alive.”

  I huffed a bit of a laugh and said, “I know she never met him, but fuck, she’s just like Papa.”

  “I was just about to say that,” he said and held out his beer. We clicked bottles.

  “I’m supposed to take Lys and Manolo to check out one of the brownstones in a few hours,” I told him.

  “Busy Saturday,” he remarked.

  “Yeah, I just needed a minute to cool off before I went back home. Lys is like a bloodhound when something ain’t sittin’ right with me, and she won’t let it go until I talk to her.”

  “Sounds like a good woman,” Angel said, and took a drink.

  “Yeah, but I’m afraid this one would hurt her and I really don’t want to ruin the day.”

  “So here you are, drinking a beer at nine-thirty in the morning with me, makes sense.”

  “Some things you just get, bro.”

  “Some things will always just be you and me,” he said and smiled. I nodded. He was right. It was nothing against anyone else, it just was a twin thing.

  “Yeah, I’d straight like to keep it that way, too,” I muttered and we clicked bottles again.

  “So, how are things with instant family, just add hot roommate and erstwhile nephew?”

  “Butt-hurt you couldn’t take him?” I asked.

  “Man, if it were next year, I could have and you know I would have, but I get it. You’re way better equipped to deal than me. A drafty boat in the winter ain’t no place for a kid.”

  “You can take him off our hands any time you want, bro. I could use the time with Lys, you know. Plus, I can’t be his only male role model. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

  Angel laughed and said, “You’re not as bad at it as you’d like to think. That, and I think everything happens for a reason. Like I said, this time next year, this baby would be sold and I’d be on one of those.”

  He tipped the neck of his bottle and I followed where he pointed, to one of the nicer houseboats moored up the way.

  I shook my head, “No, thank you. I couldn’t deal with one of the storms we get out here and the anxiety of What if my house sinks. You’re legit crazy and I don’t know where the fuck you got this crack-ass affinity for being on the water.”

  Angel shrugged and mumbled, “I dunno, maybe a past life or some shit.”

  I laughed and shook my head, “I don’t believe in that mystical mumbo-jumbo, plus you’re Catholic, you shouldn’t either, technically. We die, we go one of three places, Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, and according to how we were raised? Shit, we either go to Hell or Purgatory.” While Hell sucked balls and Purgatory was just to get your shit straight, Purgatory didn’t exactly sound like a gas. And Heaven? Shit, the way we had it set up, it was a bitch and a half to get into, so you might as well forget it and just pack your bags for an extended stay in Purgatory if you were lucky. Which is pretty much why I said fuck all of it and just didn’t want to believe any of it. Angel, though? He’d somehow stuck to it. I still wasn’t sure why.

  Angel looked at me surprised and crossed himself. “It’s a miracle! You actually did pay attention!”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled. “I was actually thinking, though. Might not be a bad idea you took Hombrecito to church with you on Sundays.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Religion may be a bunch of bullshit in my book, but it did at least instill some sort of set of values in me.”

  “I think Ma and Abuela had more to do with that,” he said honestly. I scowled at him and he put up his hands. “Yeah, no, I have no problem taking Manolo to church with me on Sundays. Sundays can be our thing.”

  “Cool.”

  “Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” he asked after some silence.

  I sighed. “I don’t know what to do about Manolo visiting his mom while she’s in that place, dude. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Angel huffed out a big breath and said, “It’s another hard choice, man. You keep him away Maria could spiral; you let him see her, it could cause him issues, but then again, maybe not, you know?”

  I nodded, “I’m pissed at her, but the last thing I wanna do is deprive her of seeing her kid. Jesus Christ, she’s made such a fucking mess of things.”

  Angel nodded slowly and said, “I think we both sit him down and talk to him, and find out what he wants.”

  I nodded and said, “He’s way too old for his age, ain’t he?”

  “Yeah, but so were we. Maria was the baby and maybe you, me, Mama, and Abuela sheltered her just too damn much. She was spoiled, didn’t figure she could do any wrong, and when she did we were always there to get her out of it.”

  “Can’t do shit this time,” I muttered and I felt some guilt over that.

  Angel snorted. “You’re doing more than enough right now, my man.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish I could do more.”

  “Look,” he sighed harshly, “divide and conquer, bro. Like we’ve always done. You worry about Manolo and Lys. I’ve got Maria. You can’t and shouldn’t try to do it all. You’ve got more than enough on your plate and I feel really fucking bad that. Once again, it’s your life being upended the hardest.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “Don’t you dare feel bad about it, seriously. Despite the total shit-show that is Maria and her baby-daddy, Lys and Manolo are some of the best shit to ever happen to me. He’s resilient. He’s doing fabulous, even with all this going on. It’s like all that kid needed was a set of rules and some fucking structure to thrive.”

  “That’s usually the case, man.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t know anything about it. I never figured I’d be like the uncle to do this if the shit ever went down. I always figured it’d be you.”

  My brother laughed and nodded saying, “Me, too, but you’re surprisingly ahead of the curve on all o
f it.”

  I shook my head. “If it weren’t for Lys, this would be a total disaster, bro.”

  “You always did have the devil’s own luck,” he said, with a hint of jealousy.

  “Motherfucker, I’m the one that got shot,” I reminded him. “What kind of luck is that?”

  “Motherfucker, you’re the one who lived,” he shot back, and I couldn’t really argue with him there.

  We finished off our beers in grim silence, and I could tell he was thinking about the dudes that couldn’t be saved that night as much as I was. I shook my head and filled him in on mine and Lys’ conversation about potentially joining up with SWAT. He sat back on his seat and shook his head.

  “I really like her, bro. She’s a keeper.”

  I nodded and said, “I’m pretty fuckin’ impressed, myself.”

  “Speaking of – ain’t you gotta be somewhere?” I checked my watch, handed him my empty bottle and nodded.

  “Good talk,” I said, and he smiled at me.

  “Any time, bro. Can’t wait to see the new place and get started.”

  I laughed, “Putting the cart before the horse there aren’t you?”

  “I got a good feeling about it!” he called after me, but I was already striding up his dock. I waved a hand over my shoulder and kept moving. I’d stayed a little too long and was cutting it awful close. I called Lys and gave her the address, told her to bring Manolo and take a car, I’d meet her there.

  She’d asked what was wrong and I smiled, “Just spent too long talking to Angel. Needed to decompress some before coming home.”

  “Okay,” she drawled. “Is everything all right? With Maria?”

  “Everything’s good, babe. I promise.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, but it didn’t sound like she believed me.

  “Just meet me there, okay?”

  “Okay, I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “Bye.”

  “See you soon.”

  I fired up the bike and rode over to Backdraft’s neighborhood. He and Lil were waiting for me at the curb, and looked surprised when I pulled up solo.

  I parked the bike and shut it off and said by way of greeting, “Lys and Hombrecito are on their way. I had them take a car to meet me. I was running late.”