Cryptic Curse, page 18
“Hey, man,” Falcon says. “You okay?”
I breathe. In, out, in, out.
Then I nod. I can’t talk. Words will fail me in this moment.
For in the palm of my gloved hand, I hold a silver earring in the shape of a star.
32
DANIELA
Señor Vega was my most frequent visitor.
Eventually he became so enamored with me that he asked my father for my hand.
I honestly don’t know why. He got to have me any way he wanted anyway, and he knew I was tainted by other men regularly.
Maybe he wanted to be the only one tainting me. Men like him are territorial and don’t like to share their property.
Papa agreed, but part of the deal was that he would keep me until I was eighteen, and I could continue to entertain his friends and colleagues and guests in the meantime.
If Diego Vega cared, he never let on.
Then again, he wasn’t a normal person. Neither was my father.
They were criminals. Indecent men. The kind who smiled too easily and touched without asking. They operated in shadows, but always acted like they owned the room, like rules were for the people who didn’t have the stomach to break them.
My father welcomed all these men into our home. Seated them at our table. Poured their drinks with a steady hand while I sat there, small and silent, trying to make myself invisible. I used to wonder why he didn’t see it—how rotten they were. But I get it now.
He was one of them. Maybe the worst of them.
Because while they took what they wanted and left, he stayed. Pretended to be the protector, the provider. But he never shielded me. Not once. He opened the door and watched it happen.
Not only did he make decisions about who would enjoy my body, he also made decisions about how I could use it. Every time a baby tried to grow inside me, he’d have it removed without so much as a conversation with me.
And no matter how many years pass, no matter how far I run, I can still smell the smoke of his friends’ cigars. Still hear their laughter in my bones.
I hear the crying of my unborn children as well. I hope that, wherever they are, they have learned to forgive me.
I can still feel the way my body used to go quiet just to survive.
At least my father is dead now.
Señor Vega is dead.
Neither of them can ever hurt me again.
Chef Charleston is finishing up our last class of the day.
We’re actually putting together a salad.
It’s not exactly cooking. We’re tearing—always tear greens, never cut, he says—different varieties of lettuce into bite-size pieces and then adding our chopped vegetables.
“For vinaigrette,” he says, “less is more. Extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar from Modena, and just a touch of salt-and-pepper.”
“What about MSG?” Jordan asks.
Chef Charleston frowns. “That does add a good flavor, but most chefs are steering away from MSG these days.”
“Why?” another person asks.
He paces the classroom. “For a while, the FDA had questions about its safety, but more recent research has indicated that it is generally safe except for sensitivity in a small number of individuals. The better reason is that in this basic vinaigrette, it’s not necessary. In cooking, it’s better to get umami from natural ingredients like mushrooms, tomatoes, seaweed, fermented sauces, or slow-cooked broth. Why rely on additives?”
The explanation seems to satisfy the student. She nods.
“Now to toss the salad,” Chef says. “Tossing a salad isn’t stirring. You’re not folding cake batter. You’re lifting. Turning.”
I wouldn’t mind having Hawk toss my salad.
Whoa—where did that thought come from? I shake it from my head. The last thing I need is to be aroused in class. Especially with Jordan stealing glances at me whenever he thinks I’m not looking.
Chef slides his salad utensils under the greens and gently scoops upward, letting the leaves fall back into the bowl like they’re being caught midair.
“You want to coat everything without crushing it.” He grins. “It should feel like you’re waking it up, not wrestling it.” He drizzles the dressing last, slowly in a thin stream. “This part’s about restraint. You can always add more. You can’t take it back.”
He tosses again. “Make sure every leaf gets a kiss of vinaigrette, not a bath. See this shine?” He holds up a leaf between his fingers. “That’s what you want. Glossy, not soggy. Give it a try.”
“Ladies first,” Jordan says to me.
I nod and slide the utensils under the leaves as I saw Chef do.
“Nice,” Chef says, watching me. “That’s how you toss a salad. With respect. With care. Like it matters. Because it does.”
I hand the utensils to Jordan for his turn as Chef walks among the class, offering guidance. Once he’s visited each station, he returns to the front of the room.
“Now it’s time to taste our creation,” Chef says.
But I’m not hungry.
Too much going through my mind.
“You okay?” Jordan asks.
I swallow, take a deep breath. “I’m fine. I think I’m going to go home.”
Jordan raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to stay and eat what we’ve made?”
I shake my head. “This is my last class of the day. I just need some air is all. I’ll see you next week.”
I get to my car and drive home to Vinnie’s house. When I pull into the driveway and exit the Mustang, my heart is beating fast.
I’m having a hard time catching my breath.
I feel like I’m hyperventilating, and I don’t know why. The day went fine, but then I remember…
Yesterday, when I got home from school, what awaited me.
I draw a breath, leave my car, and walk, shoulders back and head upright, to my private entrance in the back.
And my stomach falls.
On my stoop is a heart-shaped package.
I gulp.
Not again.
I slowly bend over and pick the box up, open it.
It’s chocolates. I love chocolate, but I have no idea where this box came from.
Hawk maybe?
After last night?
I take out my phone and text him quickly.
Did you leave me a box of chocolates?
He responds almost immediately.
No I didn’t. Don’t eat any.
I didn’t, I text back.
Good. Do you want me to come over?
No, I refuse to be a damsel in distress. There’s no reason for him to rush over just because a box of chocolates is left on my stoop. I’ll simply throw them out.
No, I text him back. I’m just going to throw them out. Worst-case scenario is it’s just a waste of food.
I hate wasting food, but chocolate isn’t exactly nutritious anyway.
I head to the trash can, and something slides out from the chocolate box.
It’s a small piece of paper. I pick it up, read the writing on it.
The finest selection, handpicked with care. One in particular holds a special surprise. A little decadence, a little danger.
I gulp again as my stomach churns.
Now I wish I had told Hawk to come over.
33
HAWK
I should’ve gone to Daniela.
But she told me not to, and I don’t want to be pushy. The last thing I want to do is pressure her.
But God, I want to protect her.
I don’t think I’ve felt this strong of an urge to protect someone ever. Not even the way I protect Eagle.
Not even the way Ted Tucker protected me.
I roll the earring around in my gloved palm.
“Who was that on the phone?” Falcon asks me.
“You mean who was I texting?” I blink. “Just…an appointment I have.”
I don’t like lying to my brother, but he has enough on his mind.
“What’s that in your hand?”
“Also nothing.”
Seventeen Years Earlier…
“Why do you wear that earring?” I ask Ted.
He shrugs. “Because I like it.”
“My dad says earrings are for girls,” I say.
“No,” Ted says. “Lots of guys wear earrings. Lots of guys wear necklaces and bracelets too.”
I frown. “But why do you wear that particular earring?”
“The star?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m a Texan, for one.” Ted gives me a grin.
“Right. The Lone Star State.”
“Born and bred,” he says.
“Me too. We were all born here. My mom and dad too.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “Your mom wasn’t born in Mexico?”
“No. Her parents were, but they came here before she was born.”
“So you’re all native Texans.”
“Yeah,” I say, “and we love the Lone Star State, but we don’t wear star earrings.”
“Well,” Ted says, “that’s only one of the reasons why I wear a star earring.”
“What’s the other reason?”
Ted fiddles with the star as he unscrews it, takes it out of his earlobe, and holds it out to me.
He places it in my palm.
It’s light.
“Is it real silver?” I ask.
He chuckles. “It’s actually white gold.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“I bought it for myself when I graduated from high school. With some graduation money.”
“So…you were going to tell me the other reason why you like the star.”
“Yeah.” He looks up. “Because it reminds me of the stars in space.”
Stars are professional in space, aren’t they?
That’s what Ted said when I told him Dad said the earring was unprofessional.
Instinctively I look upward too. Of course it’s broad daylight, so I don’t see any stars.
“It’s amazing how we can see so many of them here on the ranch,” Ted says. “When you’re in a big city, the light of the city filters them out.”
I simply nod.
“But they’re always there. Even when you can’t see them. Even when they burn out, the light still reaches the earth for millennia.” He sighs. “Because they’re so far away, it takes their light that long to get here.”
“Yeah, we learned that in science class.”
He smirks at that. “Yeah, but science class can be boring. You need to think about it, about the miracle that it truly is. That the stars continue to shine even after they burn out. It’s a metaphor for so many things.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like life, Hawk,” he says. “Don’t ever forget that even after you’re gone, your starlight will shine on the people whose lives you’ve touched.”
His words hit me hard.
I’m young. Just a kid of twelve. I don’t think about death. About legacy.
But my grandfather died. My father’s father. We all went to his funeral.
“I guess I never thought of it that way,” I say.
“I’m surprised you haven’t,” Ted says.
“Why would you say that?”
He gently pokes my forehead. “Because you’re a thinker, Hawk. You think about everything.”
He’s not wrong. But how did he know that?
“I see it in your eyes,” he says, as if reading my mind. “I see you weigh the pros and the cons of every decision you make. I see it when we play board games, and I see it when I teach you something about how a game is played, how it sits in your mind, becomes part of your overall strategy. Above all, you want to do what’s right. Not just for yourself, so you can win the game, but what’s innately right. For the universe.”
“That’s some heavy shit,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say a curse word.”
“Oops. Sorry.”
He laughs. “There are worse things, I suppose. And yeah, it might be some heavy stuff to talk about with a boy your age. But am I wrong?”
I shake my head. “You’re not wrong.” I hand the star back to him. “Where could I find an earring like this?”
“Hell, I got this a long time ago, from a jeweler in Houston. But it can’t be hard to find.”
“Never mind.” I kick at the ground. “My father would never let me wear it anyway.”
“Who says you have to tell him about it?”
I scoff. “He’d see it in my ear, for one.”
Ted chuckles. “He doesn’t have to see it. You don’t have to wear it. All you need to do is know it’s there. In fact, you don’t even need the earring. Your star can shine inside you.”
More heavy shit. Stuff, sorry.
But I like this guy. I already have a big brother, but Falcon is a bona fide teenager now, interested in girls and dating and hanging out with his friends. He’s not much of a brother to me these days.
Ted is a grown man, but I feel like he’s my big brother. Or my cool uncle with an earring.
“Why do you think my dad doesn’t like earrings?” I ask.
“That’s hard to say.” He crosses his arms. “Maybe he truly does just think they’re only for women, but he’s wrong.”
“He doesn’t really understand me,” I say.
Ted smiles. “Oh, I think he understands you more than you know.”
“He doesn’t,” I say. “Neither does my mom. I seem to be so darned forgettable.”
Ted chuckles.
And I give him a stink eye.
“Oh, I’m not laughing at that, Hawk. I’m laughing because you sound exactly like I did when I was your age.” He sighs. “I was the middle kid too, and yeah, I pretty much felt invisible a lot of the time. But then I realized that my mom and dad both had their own lives. And you need to remember that too. Your dad has a huge business operation here. Not just the ranch, but all of his other holdings. All the land he owns. And your mom is overwhelmed with five children. It’s easy for the middle child to fall through the cracks. It’s normal.”
“But it isn’t fair.”
He tousles my hair. “No, it’s not fair. Very few things in life are fair, Hawk.”
I roll my eyes. “They’re fair for Falcon. He gets to be oldest. They’re fair for Eagle. He gets to be the youngest.”
“Tell you what,” Ted says as he screws his earring back into his ear. “You can always depend on me, okay?”
“Like as a father?”
“Let’s say as a friend.”
“That’s great.”
Before I know what I’m doing, I give Ted a hug.
Then I hear a throat clear in the distance.
Ted releases me.
My father stands, watching us. “Go on outside,” Dad says to me. “Ted, I need to have a word with you in my office.”
I shove the earring in my pocket.
I shouldn’t be surprised that I found it.
That day…
That terrible day…
Then my phone starts ringing.
Daniela again.
Fuck.
I knew I should’ve gone over there.
34
DANIELA
“Are you okay?” Hawk says into the phone.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I just want to tell you that I have some good news.”
“About the chocolates?”
I look down. “No. I threw those out. But we can figure out who sent them later. There’s something else.”
“Great, what is it? I could use some good news.”
“Vinnie just got home, and he was able to pull some strings at the courthouse. I’m getting a divorce tomorrow.”
“You mean an annulment?”
“Annulment, dissolution, divorce. I don’t even know. But Vinnie fixed it. We have to go to the courthouse, and it will be final upon our signatures.”
“Doesn’t that usually take a couple of months?” he asks.
“Honestly, I don’t know. But you know Vinnie. He’s got connections. “
“That is great news, honey. I’m happy for you.”
My heart soars from his use of a pet name. I like it. Honey. Honey is sweet, but it also takes a lot of hard work—from the bees themselves and the apiarists—to make and harvest.
“I’m happy for us, Hawk,” I say.
After we end the call, I can’t help thinking that I may be falling in love.
The hearing on our marriage takes place in the judge’s chambers.
Vinnie and I talk to the judge, a very nice lady named Judge Matthews.
“It looks like everything is in order,” Judge Matthews says, “although Daniela, you became a permanent resident in the United States because of your marriage to Vinnie. You do realize that by ending this marriage, your green card could be revoked.”
I drop my jaw.
“Bernadette,” Vinnie says, “isn’t there something you can do?”
“Is there any reason why it would be dangerous for you to return to Colombia?” Judge Matthews asks me.
I look at Vinnie. He nods at me slightly.
I bite my lip. “I was…sexually abused there. By my father’s friends. He was in organized crime.”
The judge scrunches her eyebrows. “Are you saying you were sexually trafficked?”
“I mean, yes, I guess.” I steady my face. “He forced me to do things that I didn’t want to do.”
Judge Matthews frowns. “Your father forced you.”
“Yes.”
“But your father’s deceased now?”
“Yes,” I say.
“But the men who abused her are not deceased,” Vinnie interjects. “Not all of them, anyway.”
Judge Matthews sighs. “Federal law states that if you were a victim of a severe form of trafficking, you may be allowed to stay in the United States. You need to have suffered past harm that was so severe it would be cause for ‘extreme hardship’ were you to return home. Did any of these men ever threaten your life, Daniela?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my throat closing at the painful memories.
