Hector (Season One: The Ninth Inning #3) (14 page)

I’m not sure if it’s Hector or what, but I’m beginning to like baseball. A lot. I even watch the road games now. I turned it on the other night and painted another landscape portrait. Aunt Minnie is right. He is my muse. Every time I think about him, I want to paint.

The game ends in a loss, but I’m more anxious about what’s to come. Since this is an early game, Hector will be picking up his parents and sister from the airport in a little bit. I stand outside the players’ entrance with numerous fans. Hector is one of the first ones out. After he signs several autographs, he spots me. His smile grows and when he reaches me, he takes my hand and leads me to his car.

“You had a good game, even with the loss,” I tell him as the air conditioning blows in the cool air.

“Yep,” he answers abruptly and short. I look over at him and his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

“Hey,” I rub his thigh. “Are you okay? I don’t have to meet your family if you don’t want me to.”

“No. I want you to.” He nods, but I can see the hesitation. I remain quiet all the way to airport.

When Hector parks the car, he doesn’t get out right away. Instead, he takes my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. I lightly touch his cheek.

“Will you promise me one thing?”

“Of course, Hector.”

“I’m not my parents and don’t listen to them. I like you and your aunts.”

My heart races faster. He has already warned me once about his mother. I’m expecting a rough time to gain acceptance from her. Even Carissa has said so. “Hey, I know you and I care about you. It’s going to be fine.” I give him an encouraging smile.

“I hope so.” He sounds defeated already. “Come on. They should be here any minute.” He hops out of the car, and as we walk in, he holds my hand.

We stand by the baggage claim area and wait as the people begin to gather around the conveyor belt. A few people stare at Hector and I’m not sure if it’s because he is Hector Rodriguez, baseball star, or the fact he’s holding my hand. He has his eyes closed and he looks pale. I almost think he’s praying.

“Hector!” We both turn to see Carissa as she leaps into his arms. He relaxes and holds his sister tight. Suddenly, she gasps and squeals when she sees me. “Zoey!” She lets go of Hector and jumps into my arms.

“Hi.” I giggle at her excitement.

“Don’t listen to anything Mom says,” she whispers in my ear.

Crap on a cracker. This is going to be bad.

“Carissa, why are you running around the airport like a child?”

I release Carissa and she sighs. I know exactly who is speaking. The voice belongs to a woman who is a little shorter than Carissa is. She has a short, black bob, and her dark eyes almost glow. Her lips are in a permanent scowl. Her thick accent tells me English isn’t her first language.

“I was excited,” Carissa explains.

“Act like a lady and stand up straight.” She turns her back to me and looks at Hector. “Your suit looks wrinkled.”

Hector takes a deep breath. “Nice to see you too, Mom.” He reaches over and hugs her. He then shakes the hand of a tall man next to him. That’s definitely Hector’s dad. They look so much alike.

I stand there looking at him. When his mom turns, her scowl deepens as she looks me up and down. “Are you one of Carissa’s...
friends
?” she almost sneers at me.

Crap on a cracker. I look at Hector.

“Mom, Dad, this is Zoey, my girlfriend. Zoey, this is my mom, Maria, and my dad, Manuel.”

“Excuse me?” Maria cuts him off with an evil glare before I can even say anything.

“Mom,” Carissa hisses at her.

“You said
girlfriend
?” She ignores Carissa and narrows her eyes at Hector.

“Yes, I did. Are we ready to go now? I’m sure y’all are ready to get out of the airport.”

“
Y’all
? You’ve been in Memphis less than a year, and you already sound like a redneck, Hector.” She huffs and I’m sure fire and smoke escape her mouth.

“Maria, let’s get the bags and you can have your talk with the boy in the car. People are staring,” Manuel reasons with her.

She looks me up and down again, and I still haven’t said anything to her. She spins on her heels and points to the bags rotating on the belt. Carissa squeezes my hand and gives me a sad smile.

This is a mistake. This is a huge mistake.

I stand back as Hector helps his father grab the bags and we all walk out of airport to Hector’s car. Once the car is loaded, we hop in. Manuel is up front with Hector. I sit in the back with Carissa in the middle and her mother on the other side. I think Carissa is sitting there to protect me.

“So, Hector, how long has this rendezvous been going on?”

“A few months.”

“Months? A few months? And you felt you didn’t need to inform me of this?” Her voice becomes louder with each word.

Oh, this isn’t going to be good at all.

“I informed you today when you could meet her yourself.”

Maria crosses her arms and Carissa bumps my elbow. It’s my cue to say something.

Be polite.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Rodriguez.” I lean over for her to see me.

“I’m sure it is nice for someone like you.”

Oh, this is fun.

“Are you aware of how much money is in my son’s bank account?” She scowls at me. I think it is her only expression.

“Mom! Stop it. All you know about her is her name. She doesn’t need the third degree already. Maybe this is why I didn’t inform you sooner. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? I call it being your mother and looking out for your well-being.”

This car ride can’t end fast enough for me. I met her five minutes ago and I’m already a gold digger.

“Mom, you don’t know anything about Zoey. Why don’t you give her a chance before you start throwing Holy Water on her?” Carissa jumps to my defense as well.

“I’m tired.” Maria turns away and looks out the window. “I don’t feel like talking.”

“That would be a first,” I hear Manuel mumble up front.

I catch Hector’s eyes in the mirror, and he gives me a sad smile. Yep, this is going to suck.

IT TAKES ME a long time to get ready and I’m hoping I look good enough for Hector’s mother. I highly doubt she’ll enjoy the sleeveless blue dress, but I know Hector will. I call for a cab because I’m meeting them there and I didn’t want to drive because I’m sure I’ll be drinking a lot to get through it all. Even though I shouldn’t drink in front of her to give her more ammo.

As I walk into the restaurant, the hostess shows me to the private dining room where everyone is already seated. Hector smiles brightly and kisses my cheek. He even holds the chair out for me. There are the usual greetings, except from Mrs. Rodriguez.

“You look nice, Mrs. Rodriguez.” I try to be friendly.

“It’s Gucci. It’s a famous designer.”

I do my best not to roll my eyes. I’ve heard of Gucci. I’m not dumb about fashion. “The color works for you.” I give up on going further into conversation with her and sip my wine.

“So, Mom, I know how much you love art. Zoey’s a very talented artist. You’d love her work,” Hector tries to help me out.

“Really? What kind of
art
do you do?” she sneers.

“I’ve done a bit of everything, but I tend to fall back on charcoal and acrylics. However, my last one is a watercolor.”

Maria scoffs. “Have you been in galleries or sold pieces?”

“Yes. I recently was in my aunt’s gallery and she’s talking about doing a full show. I’ve just sold one of my new ones.”

“One? You’ve sold only one.” She eyes me over her wine glass rim. “I’m sure your parents are so proud.”

“Well, they’re dead,” I snap at her, unable to control my reaction. “I’m not sure how proud they are.” I take a deep breath and focus on keeping my temper in check.

“Zoey was raised by her aunts,” Carissa jumps in and tries to sound cheerful.

“Aunts? What did you do, bounce from each of their houses?”

Crap on a cracker.
If she didn’t like me before, she’ll hate me for sure now. I look over at Hector. I don’t hide the fact my aunts are lesbians, and I’m not going to start now.

“She was in one home, Mom. Her aunt took her in and she, with her girlfriend, raised her. I’ve met them. They are wonderful women.”

Maria begins to choke on her wine and Manuel hangs his head. I’m not sure if he’s disappointed in Hector or if he’s waiting for the wrath of Maria. “I know.” She shakes her head. “I know I heard you wrong.”

“You did not. Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t say it. Only two things matter, Mom. Zoey is an amazing person, and I’m happy.”

Maria's face turns bright red. She is ready to blow her lid, but the waiter comes in and takes our orders. I watch in uncomfortable tension-filled silence. She is tapping her manicured nails against the stem of her wine glass. I know she will not be quiet for long.

“Why do you have so many tattoos?” Her tone is tight and harsh.

“They are tributes, memories, and things I enjoy,” I explain. “It’s like walking art.” I try to lighten the mood, but her face doesn’t change.

“Walking art?” Maria rubs her temple. “I think that is an inexcusable reason to mar your body.”

“Then it’s good they aren’t on
your
body. It’s just as much your choice not to have them, as it is hers to have them. I, for one, like them and the fact that they mean something to her. You don’t need to be so judgmental, Mom. Isn’t that a trait you’re supposed to avoid?”

“Hector, don’t speak to me in that manner. I’m your mother and I’m looking out for your well-being. It’s my job to make sure you make good life decisions.” She looks at me. “Do you even have a job?”

“Yes. I work at a local bar.”

Maria throws her hands up. “Great. Just outstanding. I’m sure it’s a lovely biker bar you work at.” She turns her attention back to Hector. “I gave you a list of suitable, lovely, Latina women. What did you do with that list? Did you throw it away to be with the tattooed girl raised by gays?”

“I threw it away to be with the hardworking, kind-hearted, smart woman who is currently having to suffer through this dinner with you. You’re my mother, and you keep saying you’re looking out for me. All you need to do is want me to be happy and with someone who is good and can make me happy. That’s Zoey. She’s not going anywhere, so please, for all of our sakes, deal with it.”

“Deal with it?
Deal with it?
How could you do this to me, Hector? I raised you to be a good man and you fall in love with some Memphis-gay-raised-trash.”

“Look.” I push my chair back loudly. I can’t hear another word of this. “I was raised by the two sweetest, kindest women on this planet. They taught me to never judge anyone except by the way they treat me. They sacrificed a lot to take care of me when they didn’t have to. They could have easily let the state take me away into the foster care system. Now, I’m not going to sit here and listen to some uptight, righteous woman throw my aunts’ good names in the mud when you don’t even know them. Plus, I’m not a gold digger. You may not have said the words, but you thought them. I work for everything I’ve ever been given or wanted. I don’t rely on anyone but me. And right now, I’m leaving.” I toss my napkin on the table and rush out the door so fast, I almost take out a bus boy. I don’t know if Hector is behind me, and I don’t even care.

“Zoey! Wait. How much are you wishing I’d never learned your name and gotten your number right now?” He’s trying to make me feel better.

“Hector, I’m not sorry for what I said, but I’m sure as fuck not going in there again. Don’t you even ask me.” I never cuss, but I can’t hold anything back right now.

Hector holds up his hands in defense. “I wasn’t going to ask, and I don’t want you to be sorry. I left my keys with my sister so she could drive them back to my place. I figured we’d catch a cab, so we can go home.”

“So
we
can go home? What about your family?”

“They’ll be fine without me. I’d rather be with you,” he says simply.

“Your mom will not be happy. You know what you’re doing, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going with you and making sure you recover from the hell I just put you through. Are you objecting or are you ready to go?”

Hearing those words from him mean everything to me. Hector is walking away from his family, mainly his mother, for me. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. “I’m ready to go.”

Hector hails a cab and holds my hand the entire ride home. It brings me comfort. None of the other guys I’ve dated would have chased me down. Heck, they wouldn’t have stood up to their mothers.

When we walk into my apartment, Hector shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on the couch. We still haven’t said anything and I’m not sure what to say. I look up and Hector is staring at me. He’s not mad. There’s no anger anywhere on his face. He looks lovingly at me. He crosses the room without a word and cups my face in his hands. He pauses for a beat before his lips capture mine. My body tingles from the touch of his lips and his tongue deep in my mouth. He drops his hands to my hips and I’m flush with his body.

“Hector,” I moan his name and I tilt my head back as he runs his lips down my neck. I can feel how hard he is against my stomach. I want him. I want to feel his skin against mine. I want to feel him inside me.