Wicked Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  His mind flashed to the new daisy bed in his old room but actual hunger brought him back to the here and now.

  Will was right; something did smell good. But the flavors were all wrong. Mom had never been real big on Indian food. The spices had always wrinkled her nose whenever they’d gone into town and passed by the Tandoor Tavern. Dad had liked that place. Stefan regretted the even smaller amounts of time he’d spent with his dad. But with the new family, it was just easier to stay away. He had heard they lived in Idaho now. Stefan had never been.

  “Why are you frowning? I bet you a hundred bucks there’s some bad-ass Chicken Curry awaiting us,” Will said as they approached the kitchen. “You love Indian.”

  “Yeah, but from what I remember, Mom doesn’t.”

  Will gave him a look. “This Daniela must be a really good cook then, if she’s eating it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Must be.”

  Was this woman the right person for Mom? Was she even listening to Mom? He could be pissed all he wanted at those thoughts but when it came down to it, if he’d moved Mom closer years ago, it wouldn’t be an issue. He shook his head and led his friend to the kitchen and the rich fragrant smells of curry, ginger and onions. The garlic made his mouth water as surely as it probably churned Mom’s stomach. He felt Will’s hand on his shoulder.

  “It’ll be alright, Stef,” said Will.

  Yeah, well where the hell was this nurse? They needed to talk. Because the way he saw it right now, his idea of packing Mom up and moving her to Nashville with him was looking better by the second. He’d have to find a new caretaker, of course.

  He saw his mom had served them plates and stood by the sink. She washed her hands then crossed herself, just like she always did before sitting down to eat. She turned to him while she patted her hands dry. “Ready to eat?” she asked the two of them.

  Stefan didn’t miss the grimace turning her mouth down. Yeah, she loved Indian food now his ass. “Let’s eat,” he said and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t pull back. He was as grateful as he was surprised. “But tomorrow, I’m making breakfast. What would you like?” he asked as they followed Mom to the dining room table. Will stayed close behind.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Surprise me,” she said, surprising him indeed with her spontaneity. If he hiked his eyebrows anymore tonight at the changes, he’d have a raging headache to go along with the raging hard-on once he was left alone and thinking about her. Not a good combination.

  “What are we making?” Will asked with a smile. His head bopped to invisible drums. Man, some woman would find Will irresistible someday if he let her. Even Stefan could see that. It had to be the glasses.

  Stefan thought about it for a second. “Pan-fucking-cakes,” he said quietly over his shoulder so only Will would hear.

  “Okay then. You sexy Latino men don’t mess around when it comes to food, do you? Pancakes? I thought maybe we’d be having Huevos Rancheros or something.” Will teased.

  “No, we fucking don’t mess around,” he whispered, hoping his mom hadn’t caught his cursing. It was like he was sixteen again and not nearing forty. “Mom can’t stand all that spicy stuff.” Both the Indian and Mexican food would just remind her of his dad. It was bad enough that Stefan’s mere presence probably did it in spades. Mom was tolerating him well so far.

  Will nodded. “Pancakes it is then.”

  They sat down and his mom stabbed at a bite of food. Stefan came this close to snatching her plate up and throwing it in the trash and cooking something fresh. Any other time, maybe he wouldn’t have cared so much. But she was seventy fucking years old, deserved respect from all of them, nurse included, and this was unacceptable to him. If she wanted to eat fruit loops sprinkled over donuts, hadn’t she earned that right? That was probably pushing it, but he was so damn angry with himself. When Daniela got back, he would clear this up. He took a bite. The damn food was delicious.

  Dish duty was pretty entertaining with Will. When was the last time either of them had put on yellow rubber gloves? He’d washed. Will had rinsed. A mess had been made which they’d cleaned up. But Stefan was now irritated that the nurse still hadn’t returned. The storm outside had cycled through a few times and rain and wind were now on the rise again. Summer was so close, just like he remembered as a kid.

  He propped a pillow under his mom’s feet and searched for a channel on her TV, settling on a legal drama. He sat on the edge of her bed, her frailty and acceptance of him punching him in the heart. Strangely, he found himself wanting to talk about Dad but that would be selfish and he’d learned a thing or two from Will. Selfish was bad. But he only had two weeks and there were things they had to talk about if he had any shot of getting her to return with him.

  “Mom, can we talk?”

  She propped herself more upright, even though it looked like some nerve somewhere was being pinched from the effort. “Sure we can, son.”

  Where did he begin? “Thank you for letting me stay here. And Will.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  They talked about her most recent doctors’ appointments and the harsher than usual winter. He told her about his move to Tennessee and how he was still looking for a house.

  “I’ve always heard Tennessee was lovely. Especially during the fall.”

  It would be cowardly not to use that comment as his lead-in.

  “You know, Mom, I’ve been gone so long. Haven’t been here for you. Regardless of anything else, I’ve felt really bad about that. And,” he shook his lowered head, knowing this wasn’t the heart of the matter and he was about to blow the lead-in she’d given him. “I’ve let the one thing I can honestly say I love keep me away.”

  “Oh Stefan, don’t.” Her hand rested on top of his. “Does your music make you happy?”

  He nodded, shocked she’d grasped so quickly that his one love was his music. “Yes, most of the time.”

  “Listen to me. Whatever else has happened between us in the past, I have a son who has found success doing what he loves for a living. As your mother, that makes me happy. I’m the one who should apologize for not making sure you knew that. You’re here with me now, son. And who knows? The day may still come that you find something you love more than your music.”

  She shouldn’t count on that and wouldn’t be proud if she knew everything he’d indulged in over the years. God, he hoped Mom hadn’t followed his career that closely. If she’d ever stood in line at the grocery store … The fear of her seeing his face splashed with a scandalous headline or two gouged him again. But what nearly had him doubling over was the shine in her eyes when she’d said the hopeful words. Fuck, he was a selfish bastard. He’d honestly never thought of how his finding someone would impact her.

  There just wasn’t anyway he could see marriage in his future. A girlfriend would be hard enough to manage. The couple times he’d tried, they hadn’t been happy when the music took him away.

  And especially not after that shit that had printed when Will lost his wife. Leave it to the idiots in the press not to have checked and made sure they had the right Sin Pointe member’s face attached to the tasteless write up. Because it saved Will from more heartbreak, Stefan never said anything.

  In any case, hearing his mom speak of being proud was a shock, especially under the circumstances of when he’d left home.

  How did he tell Mom he hadn’t just been out making music this whole time? What about the nightly debauchery, the countless women he’d slept with? The hearts he’d been careless with in order to protect his own? Potential daughters-in-law? Not likely.

  He handed her the remote and gathered up his courage.

  “Mom, have you ever thought about leaving Moonlight?”

  She took a second to grasp the remote in her hand and frowned. “Moonlight’s not for everyone, son. I understand that. But I want us to focus on the present. It’s what’s important.”

  Shit. She’d misunderstood him. “I understand.”

 
; That was supposed to have led to her saying she’d consider it and then him making his offer. Stefan let out his breath and accepted that Mom didn’t want to talk about the past with him. He couldn’t be selfish and push anymore. He’d also try his best not to bring up his dad who was clearly a part of the past she didn’t want to discuss. Maybe she was like Will and the reason there’d been no raging fights when Dad left was because she’d suffered in silence.

  “Have you heard from your nurse yet?” he asked her, needing something else to think about.

  “No, not yet. But sometimes the pharmacy takes a long time. And there are bound to be long lines with this evening’s bad weather.”

  “So, are there many nights like this, when she’s not here?”

  His mom looked at him and reached for his hand. Her blue eyes squinted. “No, not like that, son. She’s a hard worker. She’s a great help to me. Very dedicated. You must not remember her.” Mom rubbed her hand over the tats covering his fingers and closed her eyes.

  How could he? He’d never met the woman.

  Stefan felt his sinuses pinch. He looked away and rubbed at them with his free hand. Only when he was back in control did he return his attention to Mom. “It just seems like she could be more attentive. And I don’t say that lightly. I know I haven’t been here…”

  “Stefan, you’ve called me every year on Mother’s Day, my birthday, Christmas. You visited me with the cancer and you’re here now that I’m officially an old lady.” She reiterated what she’d already assured him. She patted his hand again and then yawned. “That’s what matters. It’s early but I’m tired. I think I’m going to go to sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t realize your friend was coming with you. The spare room isn’t that big but Daniela made sure to put fresh linens on it before she left. Unfortunately with my old bones, making beds isn’t something I’m supposed to be doing anymore.”

  It was hard to admit as he sat there soaking up her words, but Stefan wondered if his mom regretted asking him to leave all those years ago, even if she refused to talk about that past now. But that felt weak and it was ultimately his fault, his actions that had forced her to be ashamed. If he hadn’t gotten Amanda pregnant in the first place, his integrity never would have been called into question. Amanda wouldn’t have freaked out and lied to her parents about him saying he would never help her with the baby. All that on the heels of Dad leaving them. Maybe he’d have done the same thing in Mom’s position. He wiped hands over his pants legs.

  “It’s fine. We fit just fine. I’ll let you get some rest.”

  His mom reached up and touched her wrinkly fingers to his growing beard. She smiled. “Will you stay up until Daniela gets in?” she asked.

  He cupped his hand over hers. “Of course.” Because he had a few words for the woman.

  “Okay, mi’jo. Good night and God bless you.”

  “You too, Mom. It’s good to be here with you.” He watched her eyes close. This time they stayed that way. The Spanish she used for his benefit, the smile, the last name she kept. The “C” on the key rack. They were reminders that had to bring up sad memories for her. Why did she keep them? For him, even though he knew he didn’t deserve any of it? Stefan kissed her hand and then placed it at her side. “Thank you for loving me, no matter how awful I’ve been,” he whispered.

  If she didn’t feel bad about believing everyone else over him when he’d needed her in his corner, so what. In her own way, she loved him. She just might be the only woman to ever do that. If things kept up this well, he’d ask her about Nashville in the morning.

  Chapter Six

  Half an hour later, there was a knock at the front door.

  Stefan hopped up out of his mom’s recliner and checked his watch. It was eight o’clock but had been dark the last hour now with the recurring storm fronts passing through. Maybe staying gone this long was the norm but if this was the wayward nurse, he intended to find out for sure and remind her she got paid to be here.

  “I think my mom’s nurse is finally here, man.”

  “Be nice,” Will said and flipped the channel from the tattoo show to the one about Big Foot.

  “Always.”

  Stefan opened the door, expecting to invite the woman in and then walk her straight back to the kitchen to sit and discuss his concerns.

  Long black hair with sexy waves.

  Full fleshy lips.

  A bright yellow tracksuit.

  What was she doing here?

  Her arms were full, wearing grocery bags from her wrists to the crook of her elbows. Water droplets pinged from the plastic bags. Had she been out in the rain? Her dark eyes were huge, staring back at him. Not happy dark and not even surprised, but embarrassed?

  Holy shit. You have to be kidding me.

  He hadn’t taken her for a fervent Sin Pointe fan at the truck stop. It was amazing how they found him sometimes.

  No, he remembered she hadn’t had a clue as to who he was. That’s not what this was.

  A crumpled, small, red and white bag with the letters Rx told him the truth.

  He needed a second to accept the reality staring him in the face.

  “Tell me you’re not Daniela,” he said, incredulous.

  I told her I wanted to fuck her. I’m such an ass. He rubbed his face hard with his hands. The fingers he’d stroked over her panties stretched the skin of his chin downward as they streaked through his beard.

  “Stefan,” she said, blinking.

  “What?” they said in unison.

  She stuttered and lifted her chin but slumped under all the bags. He eyed her shoulders and could see the yellow track top was wet from the erratic rain. It was cloudy and dark outside behind her with only one street light a good hundred yards from Mom’s. “I’m, I’m just here to drop this stuff off for Mrs. C. Here you go.” She seemed frantic as she handed the bags over to him, letting some of them clunk to the wet ground in the doorway.

  Stefan was still trying to process that this little heart thief of his from earlier was his mom’s Daniela. And now that he had the name and her face together, he realized why he’d felt the odd connection. There was enough familiarity still there in the long black curls and the favored color of yellow she’d always worn as a younger girl. Fuck, I bit her. Hell, she bit me. She tried to turn and leave. “Wait,” he said. “You’re Daniela, Sandra’s daughter?” Holy shit, he hadn’t seen that girl in ages.

  She stopped a few feet away from him and rocked back on her heels. “Yes,” she said.

  He caught himself before making the horrible mistake of asking how her mother, his mom’s best friend, was doing. He remembered the short phone call from Mom two years ago that Sandra had passed away. Stefan had been rushing through an airport with poor reception, calling to wish Mom a Merry Christmas from the road. When he asked how everyone back home was, she’d broken the news.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, holding the bags she’d unloaded into his arms and picked up the couple that had dropped.

  Her eyebrows plucked together at the center. He realized he’d made it sound like he was sorry she was her mother’s daughter. “Where are you going?” he asked as she backed further away. She’d just gotten there and they were supposed to talk. Not sure whether it was his irritation or attraction that made him want to reach out and grab her arm frustrated him on a whole new level. I never thought I’d see you again, he thought to himself.

  “To my car,” she mumbled.

  “Are there more bags?” Their strange connection seemed to be winning out. “I’ll help you,” he offered, finding it wasn’t at all hard to be nice to her, even with the interrogation he’d planned.

  “No,” she said shortly and practically sprinted to the old blue Buick.

  “Don’t you live here?” he asked, regretting the sarcasm in his voice but not the edge. He had to shout for her to hear him from her car. Where in the hell was she going now?

  He searched desperately for the last time he would have seen little Daniela but the on
ly memory that chose to visit—which wasn’t funny at all if the Big Guy was paying attention right now—was the first time they’d met.

  She was one of the very few babies he’d ever held in his life. He’d been twelve. Dad hadn’t left yet. That would be in another few years when he turned sixteen. Stefan’s scalp itched and tingled. Holy shit.

  “I do,” she finally said.

  “Then I’ll ask again, where are you going?” His jaw hurt but if he didn’t keep his mouth clamped shut, he’d say something he regretted. She heard him but only shook her head.

  ****

  Where in the world could she go? Daisy’s apartment, she supposed, but her baby sister had two roommates stuffed in the studio already and Dani wasn’t ready for the third degree she’d get regarding Thom should she slip and confess. Let alone the Stefan fiasco of the last few hours. She could maybe afford a hotel room but the nearest one was at least an hour drive and she didn’t want to be that far from Mrs. C. The May nighttime air was currently warm and humid, suggesting more storms were still in store for them. Shivers began inside her and made their way out, most noticeably from her chin. Fight or flight came to mind.

  “I don’t know. I—”

  “Come inside,” his voice commanded her like it had earlier. But it cut clearer now and he stood there with his arms folded over his chest. That cocky air about him and his fancy white car parked nearby and his fancy white shirt pulled tight over his massive chest were back. “It’s dark and ugly out. You and I need to talk.” He looked away from her at that last bit.

  Dani closed her eyes and wished this all away. The whole damn day. But it didn’t work. He still stood there like an unmovable pillar. His intense aura as effective as a red light.