I squeezed her hand, “Stop it, no use to it so stop.” She squeezed my hand back.
“Love you, Jet,” she said, looking at the wal .
I swal owed my tears. Again.
“Love you too.”
A couple of hours later, the doctors came out. They told us a bunch of stuff about Dad’s injuries and what they did to him but al I heard was that he was alive.
He was in ICU, in critical condition. We were al owed to go in, one by one. First Lottie (because she had things to say), then Mom (because I suspected she had things to say) and then me.
I didn’t say anything, I just held his hand for awhile. He was asleep but he looked better. Mainly because there wasn’t blood al over him anymore.
I walked out of ICU, away from everyone and down a hal .
I cal ed Eddie.
“Yeah?”
“Alive, critical, ICU.” I didn’t have it in me to use fancy language, like verbs.
He was quiet a beat then he said, “You stayin’?” I thought about it.
“I think I need to make chil i,” I replied. “Do you mind if I use your kitchen?”
“No.”
“Do you mind if I invite everyone over?”
“No.”
“If you don’t get home in time, I’l save you some.”
“Your chil i as good as your chicken fried steak?” he asked.
What could I say? Even I real y liked my chil i.
“It’s okay,” I lied.
“You are so ful of shit.”
*
Ike showed up and everyone broke off to perform the tasks I assigned. A contingent to my apartment to pick up my huge, heavy-bottomed pot that I made chil i in and other kitchen utensils that would be needed (because Lord knew, Eddie didn’t have what I’d need). A contingent to the liquor store (because Lord knew, we’d need booze). And I took Lottie and Ike to King Soopers and whisked them through in my normal mad dash. Ike was another of Lee’s boys that I didn’t know too wel .
I didn’t tag Ike as being the kind of guy who drank coffee.
More like raw eggs and we didn’t serve those at Fortnum’s.
He was a light-skinned black man, a few inches tal er than me, wiry, bald and he had one of those tattoos that originated somewhere else, but you could see where it slithered partial y up his neck and down his arm.
We descended on Eddie’s and everyone went in. Mom and Trixie immediately started looking around with expressions that could only be described as awe, as if we’d entered the Taj Mahal.
“Eddie own this place?” Trixie asked, or more like breathed.
Wonderful.
“Yeah,” I said, lugging groceries into the kitchen.
Daisy was already there.
“Is that the coffee maker?” She was pointing to the KitchenAid.
I knew it was pushing it, considering God let my Dad live that day, but I stil sent word.
“What about the coffee maker?” Mom asked.
“Eddie and Jet bought that together,” Daisy answered.
God’s answer was that he didn’t feel like working overtime.
Mom and Trixie stared at me.
I couldn’t do it. They had hope glittering in their eyes and we needed hope that day so I nodded and let the coffee maker work its magic.
I made vast amounts of chil i.
Usual y, chil i was easy to make.
It was harder when Blanca was hovering around me.
“You need more cayenne,” she said, after taking a spoonful of the simmering stew.
“Okay,” I didn’t argue. I dumped more in and stirred.
She took another spoonful. “More cumin.”
I did a mental sigh and dumped more in.
She took another spoonful. “Needs jalape?os. I’l go to the store.”
Then she nabbed Elena and they were off.
They came back with seven bags of groceries, some for the party, most for Eddie and me so we could shack up and have uninterrupted sex for the next month, the better to give Blanca grandbabies.
We ate, we drank. Vance popped by and had a bowl of chil i and decided to stay. He must have cal ed Matt and Bobby because they came by too. The beer was running out so Lottie took off to get more and to replenish the quickly dwindling Frito supply.
Duke and Dolores showed up and I ran to the kitchen and spooned out a mass of chil i into a Tupperware to put in the fridge so Eddie could have some when he got home.
That was when my cel phone rang.
I knew it wasn’t smart.
Ike, Vance, Bobby and Matt were al in the other room, not to mention Tex and Duke. I had so much protection, it was an army of protection. I could have walked in there, I could have asked, I could have taken the risk.
But I didn’t. The risk was too great.
The risk was Lottie.
See, my phone said, “Lottie cal ing”.
I flipped it open and the minute I put it to my ear, Vince said, “Got your sister. You don’t want what’s supposed to happen to you to happen to her, you meet me in the parking lot of the 7-Eleven on Louisiana and Pearl. No tail, no protection, right now. Got me?”
Disconnect.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
At that point in my life, I was beyond worrying about the f-word.
I stood in the kitchen and wasted two seconds deciding.