Incidental Contact (Those Devilish De Marco Men) (15 page)

“H
alftime!”

Amy drew a deep breath, hurrying through the gymnasium doors. Her mother handed her a flavored sports drink, then patted the empty folding chair at her side.

Her father followed. “Where’s mine?”

Alice yanked another drink from the cooler at her side and handed the dripping bottle to her husband, but turned back to Amy. “When did you cut your hair? That looks nice.” Alice mimicked Dee, pulling on Amy’s bangs.

“Today. I bought a dress, too. You can obsess over something else now.” She tipped the bottle to her lips and eyed the door.
Why is Eric here?

“Oh, I have plenty to obsess over,” her mother assured her. “Do you have your phone handy? I want to check out a caterer.”

Amy leaned back and shoved a hand in her pocket. “Left it in the car. You guys need new phones, Mom.” Neither of her parent’s cell phones had internet access. “Where’s Hannah gonna hold this wedding?” Maybe, if she could keep them on the topic of her sister’s upcoming nuptials, her father wouldn’t ask about Eric. She wrested her keys from her pocket and handed them to Alice.

“We’re still debating. I keep telling her most of her friends are here, but she’s decided to have it in Charleston.” Alice stood with a groan. “Everything’s more expensive there. This wedding is going to cost a fortune.” Plucking Amy’s keys from her hand, her mother added, “Watch the gate for me. Where’d you park?”

“Down by the fire exit.”

As soon as Alice was out of earshot, Tucker’s eyes narrowed on Amy. “So, what’s up with what’s-his-name?”

Amy glared. “Three years and you don’t know his name?”

Her father’s brows lifted at her sharp tone. “Hell, you just spent two weeks on my couch. Never said his name once. How am I supposed to remember it?”

She didn’t mention Drew to Tucker because her father always got around to saying the last thing the world needed was one more banker. “We broke up.”

“Good.” Tucker grinned. “I never did like that guy. Can’t trust a fella who wears dress pants on Saturday.” Puffing out his cheeks, he blew out a long breath. “You need to stay single. Whatever happened to eloping? That was big back in our day. This damn wedding is killing me.”

Amy was sure her sister would insist on all the bells and whistles. “Yeah, let’s not tell Mom about Drew yet, please? I’m just not up to all her questions.”

Her father nodded and gulped half his drink. “So, who’s this movie-star-looking dude who thinks you’re delicate?” He grinned, swiping his mouth. “He looks familiar, but I can’t think who he is.”

Amy held the plastic bottle to her cheek, trying to cool the burn from the blood rushing to her face.
Dammit.
“One of Jonah De Marco’s uncles. Eric. I’m... renting his loft. Right down the road from Lila.”

“Oh, yeah? Nice of Lila to help you out like that. Think you’ll be able to stand living in the middle of nowhere?” Her dad shook his head. “I couldn’t wait to get off the farm.”

“The price is right.” Feeling nervous always made her laugh, but she didn’t correct her father’s misinterpretation of her new living arrangements. “And it’s just for a few more weeks, till I graduate.” If
I graduate.
She hadn’t put much thought into Plan B for her community service project, because of the news about John Carpenter’s plea bargain. Not to mention trying to figure out why her spine went limp every time Eric looked at her a certain way. 

When her mom returned, Alice’s attention was glued to the small screen. Tucker wandered into the gym, to Amy’s extreme relief. Glancing at her watch, she decided she had time for another drink.

“
Los De Marco merecen todos sus problemas. Si tus ancestros hubieran intervenido para detener a su señor abeja de violar a inocentes, tu madre quizas estuviera viva.
”

Leaning over the cooler, Amy wrenched to look over her shoulder. She thought at first her mother was speaking, but with a sinking heart, she realized the words were coming from her phone.

“Hey, these things do record. Barbara said hers did. I had no idea.” Alice frowned, tipping the phone in Amy’s direction. “Who is this?”

Amy snatched her phone from her mother’s hand. The device had a mind of its own at times. If she didn’t pay attention, the auto-correct feature would substitute bizarre words she hadn’t typed. She supposed it was possible she’d somehow made the idiotic thing record. “I have no idea. Here, let me erase that.”

The last thing she needed was for Alice to translate some shitty comments about her clothes made by some girl with the hots for Eric. Her mother’s Spanish was learned from working with her Adult Ed students. Many were Mexican immigrants. That might be why Alice’s Spanish was excellent and Amy’s sucked.

Alice grabbed her wrist. “Wait a minute. Do you have any idea what this person said? It’s disturbing, Amy. Who is that?”

“Why is it disturbing?” She didn’t really want her mom to answer. No doubt, it was something about the way she’d been dressed, or why a hunk like Eric had his arm around a chubby chick.

“Play the clip again.”

Alice wasn’t known for giving up easily. Amy pressed the button, grimacing. The rapid-fire Spanish sounded every bit as irate as she recalled. Her mother’s expression grew darker by the second. “Who is she talking about?” Alice demanded when Amy stopped the recording.

“I assumed she meant either me or Eric De Marco, but I don’t know for sure. I ran into him in the mall parking lot. He went with me because the guy who manages the mall is his cousin.”

“She’s talking about a bee keeper and she’s calling him a rapist.”

“Oh, my God.”
A rapist?
She couldn’t mean Eric.

Alice hefted a huge purse off the floor and dug out a pen. She ripped the masking tape off the sign advertising the price of admission and flipped the paper over.

Amy sold a few tickets while Alice held the phone close to her ear, pen poised over the page. When her mom slid the paper to her, Amy read the words with a growing sense of disbelief.

The De Marcos deserve their troubles. Maybe if your forefathers had stepped up to stop their bee man from raping innocents, your mother would still be alive.

Not Eric. She breathed a sigh of relief.
What the hell’s a bee man?

“Who was this person?” Alice repeated.

“I don’t know her name. I went to make an appointment with the manager to ask about hosting the exhibition. For my project, right?” Alice nodded, but her brow was furrowed. “I accidentally bumped into her. She might’ve been filling out a job application. My phone was in my back pocket. I guess it butt-recorded?” 

Alice’s eyes narrowed, no doubt at Amy’s use of a non-word. “Why’d she say this to you?” her mother asked. “Does she know Eric De Marco?”

Amy shook her head. “He said he didn’t know her. The secretary mentioned his name. After that, this other girl just went off.”

“That’s a serious accusation, Amy.” Alice got to her feet again, to Amy’s dismay. “He’s here, believe it or not. I sold him a ticket.”

Fuck. Just... fuck.
She didn’t know what Alice might do. “I invited him.”

Alice leaned over her. “Listen to me. I know you and Lila are close these days, but I do not want you hanging out at her house. Do you understand?”

Amy thought she was a couple years too old for this kind of talk. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, sit down. It says ‘forefathers’, or did you translate that part wrong? So whoever she’s talking about has to be dead. The brothers don’t have any relatives except their nephew, Jonah.”

Her dad poked his head through the door, gesturing at his watch. Nodding to show she was on her way, she grabbed her mother’s arm. “So this is between me and you, right?”

“Whomever.”

“Whatever.” Amy wanted to strangle her mom for using grammar to avoid promising to keep her mouth shut. She folded the sheet of paper Alice had written on and shoved it into her back pocket. “Do you want some unfounded accusation to be the thing that causes Lila to miscarry? They’ve been through Hell already. Who the hell knows what this woman’s ranting about? Don’t people keep bees for a hobby? It could be anyone.”

Alice turned her eyes to the ceiling. “If bad news caused miscarriages, we’d have negative population growth. Peach blossoms have to be pollinated. A commercial farm can’t leave that to chance. They rent bees. Your father’s parents had a guy who came every year. He towed this huge trailer stacked with big boxes that held the bee colonies. He’d scatter them in the orchards.”

Amy had a sickening hunch John Carpenter’s hobby wasn’t building dog houses.

She thought about the lost expression on Eric’s face when he’d surprised her at the mall. She couldn’t add to his stress on a hunch. She just couldn’t. “Don’t erase that. I’ll go back to the mall and see if I can find her. We need more information. Promise me you’ll keep this between us?” Alice would get busy planning the wedding and forget about this. She hoped.

“Amy! Hustle up,” her father yelled.

* * * *

E
ric waited in line to buy a drink. A caramel-skinned black man in a green Army jacket turned, clutching a Pepsi and a bag of chips. It took Eric a moment to realize he knew the guy. “Maze Elliot, how the heck are ya?” They’d been good friends in high school, sharing more than one detention hall and every auto shop class.

When the wary look in his eyes faded, the man looked more like the friend Eric recalled. Maze broke into a grin. “What the hell you doin’ here, De Marco? Last I recall, the only  sport you were into was racin’.”

“I know one of the refs. I thought I’d check out the game. Good to see you, dude. Didn’t know you were home.” Maze enlisted in the Army after graduation, and as far as Eric knew, he’d been in ever since.

“Been out about two months.”

While they chatted, he stepped to the table and ordered his drink and a candy bar. “Let’s grab a seat,” Eric suggested. Maze wanted to sit behind the red-shirted team’s bench. Amy and her father walked onto the court about the time they got settled.

When she stepped between the players at center court, tossing the ball high into the air, Maze muttered. “They takin’ this equality thang too damn far.”

Eric’s mouth fell open and he turned to stare.

Though his father was black and had dark eyes, Maze’s eyes were green, like his blonde-haired mother’s, and brimming with humor, but Eric didn’t return the smile.

While he split his time between watching the game and watching Amy, Maze second-guessed the coaching. “He needs to change up that defense, A-sap. They’re gettin’ picked apart.” Moments later, he bellowed, “Foul, ref!” just before Eric saw Amy’s cheeks expand around the whistle clenched between her teeth. That was so cute.

Maze clapped loudly. “I dunno where they found that little girl ref, but she ain’t lettin’ them boys get away with a damn thing.”

Eric assumed that was her job. “What’re you doing now, Maze? You just kickin’ back before you reenlist?”

The man’s smile twisted. “I’m home for good. I was thinkin’ about asking Dan for a job.”

“We don’t need a mechanic.”

Maze chuckled. “If you did, I wouldn’t even be in your league, De Marco. Folks say y’all bought a second rig for the wrecker service. Thought you might need some help with that. I don’t sleep much. I could sure use the money. Gotta find a new place to live. Too much noise goin’ on at all hours where I been stayin’. People arguin’, loud music playin’.” Something flashed in the man’s eyes. “I need to get somewhere peaceful.”

When the regular driver was off duty, he and his brothers took turns having the calls forwarded to their phones. “Won’t hurt to ask. Dan does the hiring and firing.” Eric entered his friend’s phone number into his cell.

The other man’s attention turned back to the game once the foul shot arced through the air. Eric was enchanted by the physical play. Adding wheels seemed an improvement to a sport he wasn’t all that passionate about.

Eric relaxed and began to study the teams. The team in red shirts worked the ball to the red-haired guy who’d taken the hard foul earlier. Maze swore that the player had “hot hands”. The kid took an elbow to the arm, but got off the shot. Eric cringed when the player defending him nearly rolled into a back-peddling Amy.
That damn number fifteen again.

“She missed that call.” Maze cupped his hands around his mouth. “You been callin’ ‘em all night. Where were you that time, ref? Checkin’ yo’ makeup?”

She cut Maze a glance, but Eric guessed she’d be used to that sort of comment. People razzed sports officials all the time. He still felt like punching the guy in his pearly whites.

Overreacting seemed to be his specialty tonight.

“I ran a team of vets playin’ in chairs when I was stationed in D.C. I sure would love to help coach this team. I wonder who’s in charge?”

“I bet Amy knows. Too bad you just insulted her.”

“So it’s like that, is it?” Maze studied him with a sly grin. “Maybe now I can get a date. Every woman I ask says she’s holding out for you.”

“You’re welcome to ‘em.” Eric looked away from Maze’s quizzical stare.

The coach waved frantically, signaling for a time out. Amy’s dad blew his whistle and play stopped. The red-haired player rolled his chair toward the bench, yanking on the circle of tubular metal mounted on the outside of the bicycle tire. The grab bar came loose in the guy’s hand. Small screws scattered on the hardwood.

“Goddammit,” the player barked. “For two grand, you’d think this fucking chair would hold together.” He slammed a gloved palm on the thin tire. “Freaking tire’s goin’ flat, too.”

Eric blinked. Two grand would buy a used car. He took a harder look at the wheelchair, but didn’t see anything that would cost two thousand dollars, not even accounting for a healthy profit margin.

The coach seemed to be scribbling numbers on his clipboard. “Hey, ref!”

Amy jogged across the court.

“I got a problem,” the coach stated. “Kevin’s got equipment issues. Bill’s out of commission after that pile-up in the first half. Since my other two’s and three’s had to work tonight, I can’t make the math work out.”