Agave Kiss

Home at Last

It was tough leaving everyone in Texas, knowing it would be months before we got together again. Chance and I intended to catch a midnight bus, so we could sleep on the way home. Airports had better security, and he didn’t have any ID on him. His passport was back in Mexico City at the apartment, along with everything else he owned. I knew from experience that they didn’t care about illegal entry into Mexico. It was only tough getting back into the States.

That night at the bus terminal, I gave hugs and kisses multiple times, nuzzled Cami’s soft baby cheeks until she chortled. Booke was already gone, of course. We’d dropped him off at the airport first. He’d kissed me on the tip of the nose and asked, “How would you like a postcard from Shanghai?”

“I’d love one,” I’d said.

Shan hugged me hardest of all. “I expect regular Skype calls.”

“Every night if you want, at least for a few minutes.”

“Deal.”

Jesse stepped up beside her, letting me know he had her back. She wasn’t sketchy like some gifted girls he’d dated. Maybe she was a little off-kilter to be a cop’s girl, but like complex puzzle pieces, they fit perfectly, creating a larger design. She teared up when Chuch walked Chance and me to the front doors of the station, and I waved until she turned a tearful face into Jesse’s shoulder.

For once at a loss for words, Chuch shifted back and forth on his heels. “I could totally drive you to Monterrey. It’d be no trouble. Eva said—”

I held up a hand, stemming his protest. “And I said you should get home to your family. We’ll be seeing you soon.”

“You better invite us over.” Chuch cleared his throat, hard.

I choked up in turn. “As soon as possible. Please don’t make me bawl at the bus station, primo.”

At that he managed a smile, then hugged us both, hard. Other people surged around us while Chuch clutched us around the neck; he smelled of cologne and motor oil. Eventually Chance brought the tableaux to a close with a murmur that our bus was leaving in fifteen minutes.

It wasn’t a dramatic exit, more a quiet setting to rights. Chuch, Jesse, and Shan stayed to watch us pull out of the terminal. Though I hadn’t realized it, I was crying silently. Too much had happened, too much change, and my world would never be the same. It wasn’t bad, but it was different; and I’d never been one to adapt too fast.

“We could move to Texas,” Chance said quietly. “All our friends are there.”

“Not Booke.”

“True. But he will be in a year.”

I smiled. “Let’s talk about it then.”

The truth was, even though so many of my loved ones made their homes in Texas, it didn’t feel like home to me. Since leaving Chance, I’d only ever been content in Mexico . . . and I wanted to see how much better it could be with him at my side, building our lives together. If he hated it, then we’d revisit the question.

“I just want to be with you,” he said then. “I don’t care where.”

I melted.

“Twila showed me a glimpse of things to come, you know.”

He smiled at me. “Anything good waiting down the line?”

“The vision was kind of a mess, but we might be having a boy. If what she showed me is true.”

“Really?” The lights from the parking lot outside illuminated his face well enough that I saw his brows arch. “I guess we should talk about names, then.”

“I was hoping to convince you to name him after Kel.”

His fingers tensed in mine. I knew he had mixed feelings about the guy, but since he was gone, I wanted to do something to honor his life . . . and his sacrifice. So I tried to explain.

“Not Kelethiel. That’s too weird to hang on a kid. But something that could shorten to Kel as a nickname. Kelvin, Kelton, Kel—”

“Kellen,” he cut in. “I could live with Kellen.”

“Wow. You’ve been thinking about this already.”

He nodded, bringing my hand to his lips. The kiss to my palm roused tingles up and down my whole arm. “I have, actually. I’ll never like the fact that you cared about him . . . or that he wanted you for himself. But I’m here with you, and he died to make that happen. I feel like I need to repay the debt somehow.”

“Me too,” I admitted.

“Kellen means mighty warrior,” Chance said as the bus pulled away from the terminal. Chuch’s car drove out after us, and they turned the other way to take Shannon home.

“That sure fits, considering what this kid has already been through.”

“He’s a fighter, like you. I’m sure, down the line, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“In the best possible way.”

A family, I thought. That’s what we are—with shared dreams, a promise of forever. It had been so long that I didn’t remember how I should feel about that, and I strangled more tears. Men didn’t usually understand that they could come from a place of joy too, and I didn’t want to worry Chance.

He held my hand the entire trip. Not because he was afraid, but because he wanted to. He laced our fingers together after we talked about baby names and only relinquished me in Monterrey. No hitches prevented us from catching the next bus, a twelve-hour trip that ended with us exhausted in Mexico City. I fell asleep on Chance’s shoulder; he only woke me when we pulled into the final station. Then he collected our bags and hailed a cab in halting Spanish. I glowed a little that he was trying so hard. As we got in the taxi, I rang Tia to let her know we’d be there soon.

Though it was early, traffic was heavy, and it took forty-five minutes to reach my mentor’s house. She opened the door before I’d hardly rung the bell and hugged me hard. As usual, she wore a loose housedress and an apron in competing floral patterns. Her gray hair was braided neatly; her lined face revealed nothing but pleasure in my arrival.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said in Spanish.

“Likewise.” I kissed her cheek.

She gave me a serious look. “I wondered if I had to die to get you to come home.”

“No, I just had some business to take care of first.”

“I know, nena. Looks like you tracked Chance down too. I told you to keep this one. You’ll make beautiful babies.”

A blush heated my cheeks, but I didn’t dispute her words. “I hope so. We’ll find out in seven months or so.”

Her eyes dropped to my belly; then she pressed gnarled fingers to my abdomen. “Felicidades! Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“You can tell?” Chance asked in surprise. “Just from a touch?”

Tia cackled. “Of course not. I’m a witch, not a gypsy. But if I guess, I have a fifty percent chance of being right. I used a little of your money,” she went on, as she ushered me into the house for warm gorditas and cold horchata.

Once she settled us at the kitchen table, I waved her statement away. “I intend to settle some money on you, so you don’t have to work so hard.”

“I appreciate that, mija.” The diminutive endearment meant she looked on me as a daughter, or more likely, granddaughter.

Touched, I ate the snack she had prepared, and we chatted about how life had treated her in our absence. She complained about a rival named Juanita and the witch who was undercutting her at the market stalls. Comforting that some things never changed . . . that I had a place where somebody always welcomed me.

After we finished, Chance kissed Tia’s hand and said, “I trust you have no objection to my attentions to Corine, especially in light of her interesting condition.”

“You’re a good boy,” she said. “But cheeky!” She turned to me with a playful scowl. “Didn’t I tell you not to let him have his fun without a ring on your finger? And look where it got you.”

“I had fun too,” I pointed out, and she swatted me with a striped dish towel.

Chance was grinning, delighted with our exchange, which I assumed meant he had translated it correctly. He dropped a hot kiss on my smiling mouth. I tangled my fingers in his hair and forgot about Tia, until she splashed some water on us.

“Dios mio, you’re like a pair of shameless dogs. Out!”

“Wait! We need some protective charms,” I told her.

That appeased her sense of the proprieties. “Claro. With a baby on the way, it’s only prudent. I’ll get to work on them right away.”

Thus shooed from Tia’s kitchen, I went with Chance into the front room, where we killed two hours kissing and whispering. If I’d been watching us, I suspect I’d have hated every minute of it. But I didn’t move away until the bell rang. Chance went with me to answer it, hoping it was his mother. Min stood with a pile of bags at her feet, a taxi pulling away into the cool twilight. She went into her son’s arms in a puddle of tears; I retreated into the house so they could have some time alone. Their voices rose and fell in the courtyard garden, a lovely place for such a reunion. Better than a filthy warehouse, for sure. But it didn’t matter where Chance came back to us, only that he was here.

And he’s not going away again.

Slowly, surely, I was accepting this as truth. My life’s path had been rewritten, and I couldn’t wait to see where it led. Twila’s words rang in my head, and this time they sounded like a benediction: There are no destinies now. Life will be what you make of it, whatever you choose.

Half an hour later, Min accompanied Chance into the house; he hauled her bags into the living room, then looked bemused as to where to put them. An idea struck me, so I hurried into the kitchen to check with Tia.

“Chance’s mother is here. We don’t have room for her at the apartment, and I was wondering if you would mind if she took my room for a little while. I’ll cover room and board—”

“She’s family,” the old woman cut in. “You’re family. And you take care of me very well, mija. Of course your suegra can stay.”

Suegra meant mother-in-law in Spanish. Though Chance and I weren’t married, it was close enough to the truth that I just hugged Tia and thanked her. If I stepped on her pride, she would make my life difficult in countless ways. She squeezed me back, ending with a firm pat.

“You just keep giving me reasons not to die. I think I’ll stay another year. I want to see the baby.”

Tia talked about death like it was a decision to be made; and maybe it was. You heard stories about people who lived to be eighty-seven and only passed on after they had no work to do, no useful purpose. If my baby gave her a reason to stick around, I was glad. I went to the bedroom I had used once, collected the remainder of my things. Whether Tia wanted the money or not, I left her three thousand dollars in the treasure box. So long as she lived, she would want for nothing. I’d stand as family for her, as she’d done for me.

I came out with my bags packed. Chance and Min were sitting together on the couch, his mother tucked beneath his arm. I didn’t intrude, knowing he was her whole world, but not in a way that made her dependent or clipped his wings. Min was one of the strongest women I knew, apart from my other mother; but then I had an abundance of powerful ladies in my life. Between Shannon, Eva, Tia, and Twila, I would be hard-pressed to find one who didn’t totally kick ass and take names.

“Tia says she’ll put you up, however long you want to stay.”

Min leveled a quiet look on me. “I mentioned this to Chance, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”

“What?” I settled on the chair across from them.

“I might sell the business in Tampa, relocate. If that wouldn’t bother you.”

I beamed at her. “I’d love that. You could go into business with Tia, maybe. Open a storefront selling her charms and your salves and potions?”

“Is she any good?” Min hadn’t made a living in homeopathy without examining the bottom line.

“The best. I owe her my life,” I said honestly, remembering the charm that saved me in Sheol.

“It doesn’t have to be decided right now,” Chance pointed out. “I’m just so glad to see you, Omma.”

“Me too,” Min whispered.

Their tenderness touched me, and because I was still wrestling the hormones, I went into the kitchen to help Tia to keep from crying. I couldn’t pull power anymore, but I could measure supplies and mix things as ordered. Her eyes weren’t as sharp as they had been, so she didn’t object to my presence while she crafted the charms. She didn’t comment on my lack of magick; and I wasn’t sure if she knew that I’d lost the touch too.

I’m human, I thought in wonder. With all implicit benefits and limitations.

An hour later, Min and Chance joined us. We ate dinner together, food that Tia had cooked the day before, and which I heated without mishap. By ten o’clock, I was dying of exhaustion between the month I’d had, the peanut, and the long bus ride with its inherent broken sleep. My thigh was hurting too, but I didn’t feel like I had any right to complain. Not when I had my family all together and the man I loved in my life again.

But Chance noticed. “It’s time to get you home. I’ll see you in the morning,” he added to Min.

She hugged him so tight around the neck that I could tell she was reluctant to let him out of her sight, and I so understood that feeling. He gently disengaged. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Promise.”

Min managed a shaky smile, wiping away a joyful tear. “Part of me can’t believe you’re here. I was so afraid you would choose greatness instead.”

“Omma,” he said softly, “I did.”

Then he took my hand and led me home.