Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (8 page)

It was hard to imagine Santos full of such anger and resentment. A normal, happy kid, it had to be a full time job for Graciella to shield him from Krystal’s radical attitude.

Monday

Cluny drove to his closed plumbing warehouse the next day and checked his large shop white-board calendar for the coming ninety days. He noted two big new construction jobs he and his crew would be working on with Big D Construction. Those sweet contracts would get him through to the fall with a fat bank account. It was time to hire another plumber to handle the steady stream of small re-models and repair jobs.

He started the computer and signed in to a couple of his favorite websites, VetJobs and JobsMission, posted the help-wanted ad, and then picked up the phone. Marla answered, “Big D Construction.”

“Did that slave driver put you back to work already? I’ll be happy to come over there and smack him into shape for you, boss lady,” he said as Amber chattered and the baby wailed in the background. “Sounds like a circus.”

Marla laughed. “We were just leaving. I already had one foot out the door. What’s up, Cluny?”

In the background, Amber asked, “Is it Uncle Cluny? Can I talk to him?”

“Here, hand Declan to me and take the phone.” Shuffling and squalling noises assailed his ears.

“Hi, Uncle Cluny.”

“Sounds like you got your hands full over there.”

“Declan is cranky, and I’m getting rill tired of all his crying. Can you take me to the beach?”

“Where’s your dad?”

The baby stopped crying amid murmuring and snuffling sounds.

Amber spoke away from the phone, “Thank gunness.” Back to him, she said, “He went to bid on a big job over in Simi Valley. He wants to do a bank job.”

Cluny chuckled. “You mean build a bank?”

“Yes. I said that dint I? Can we please go to the beach?”

“Not today, honey, but maybe tomorrow or Wednesday.” He had a few things to get done before his men came back to work. And he wanted to wait until Graciella called him before committing to a specific time with Amber.

“I hope Santos and his mom will be there. I had fun teaching him the belly board.”

“We’ll see. Do me a favor, sugar. Have your dad call me when he gets back. I need to verify the next job Gunny needs me for. Got that, Madame Secretary?”

“Got it. What? Mom says we got to take Declan home so she can get some rest and put her feet up. I’ll tell Daddy.”

Cluny locked up the warehouse and moved his 1967 green Pontiac GTO from the carport. Queen claimed the passenger seat next to him. He needed to get to the machine shop to pick up the rebuilt motor for his old power snake.

He turned the music up and patted the steering wheel in time with the beat. After a couple of blocks he pulled to the curb and parked. “Ah, hell. Who am I kidding?” He took his cell out of his pocket and tapped
Graciella
on the contacts list. After several rings it went to voicemail. “Uh, hello, Graciella. Uh, I just wanted to call and make sure you…and Santos were OK…and uh…to thank you for dinner last night. I’ll…uh…call you later. Oh, uh…this is Cluny.”

What a dope!
Of course she knew it was him. Who else had been at her house for dinner last night? Inspiration hit him. “Let’s find that damn dance school of hers, Queen. If they didn’t go to the beach, she’s probably working today.” He tapped the Google icon and looked for samba schools in the west end of San Fernando Valley. There was one samba school in Chatsworth. He tapped the number.

“Good morning, Rio Samba.”

“Santos?”

“Macfearsome?”

“Yeah. Hey buddy, is your mom there?” It made sense, school was out and she’d have the boy with her. Lively Latin music sounded in the background, reminding him of the fun he’d had with them doing their best to teach him how to dance last night.

“She’s here, but she’s teaching some old people how to samba. You want to come here and get another lesson?”

There was nothing he’d like more than Graciella’s hands on his hips and Santos’s happy laughter at his two left feet. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too old for the class.”

“No. I said she was teaching old people. Like you.”

Kids.
He shook his head and chuckled. Everybody past their teens was
old
. “OK. It’s a deal. I’ll be over in about half an hour. You might want to tell her I’m coming in case she’s too busy to see me.”

“I can teach you if she’s busy. She lets me do the beginner class sometimes.”

“OK, I’m on my way, pal.” He disconnected, restarted the Green Monster, and scratched Queen’s chin. “Wanna learn to dance, Queenie? Yeah? Well, let’s get going then. Maybe we can get a date at the beach out of this.”

The small studio was located in a strip mall on Devonshire Street in what old-time residents called the Roy Rogers part of Chatsworth. The weathered center had a large parking lot, and Graciella’s school, Rio Samba, occupied space between a Mexican restaurant and a dry cleaner.

Several laughing middle-aged women exited the studio as he parked his beloved muscle car. Graciella stood in the doorway smiling and chatting as they left. When Cluny closed his door, she waved.

“Bring Queen in. She doesn’t need to wait in the car while you’re here.”

“Thanks.” He nodded and opened the door again and motioned Queen to accompany him. “Come girl, you don’t have to wait here for me.” He grinned and approached Graciella.

“So, you want a samba lesson?” The wry expression on her face told him she didn’t believe it for a minute. “Come in. We’ll see if we can get those hips loosened up, although I might have more success with Queen if I recall last night correctly.”

“You may be right.” He suppressed a strong desire to touch her as he passed her in the doorway. “I’m game to give it another shot.” His gaze swept the room. One side sported mirrors and the other a large gallery of photos and posters depicting Carnival in Rio. Scantily clad women wearing massive and intricate headdresses took up most of the space. “Any pictures of you on that wall?”

Ignoring his comment, she rolled her eyes and smiled.

Santos rushed into the large space from the back of the studio. “Macfearsome, you brought Queen!”

Cluny grinned and bumped fists with the boy. “Yep. My best girlfriend goes everywhere with me.”

“Can I play with her?”

Graciella laid her hand on her son’s shoulder. “It’s best if Cluny leaves her vest on while she’s here. We don’t know who may pop in unannounced. I don’t want to scare anybody away.”

“She wouldn’t hurt anybody! Would she, Cluny?”

“No, but your mom is right. We’ll find a time for you to play with her. Maybe we’ll go back to Zuma Beach one of these days.” He glanced hopefully at Graciella. “Amber’s been asking me when we’ll go again.”

Santos bounced on his toes. “We’re going tomorrow, aren’t we, mama? You said we could.”

“Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” Eyebrows rising, she asked Cluny, “Would you and Amber like to join us?” The ironic tone of her voice didn’t escape his notice.

He didn’t hesitate for a split second. He’d barely been there five minutes and he’d already accomplished his goal. “Absolutely. I was planning to ask if you’d be going this week. I don’t have many vacation days left. I promised Amber we’d get in a couple of trips this week.”

“Well, it’s settled then.” Graciella flipped on the music. “Ready? Let’s see if I can eek a little Latin rhythm out of those
gringo
hips of yours. Santos, stand with your back to Cluny so he can copy your moves.”

A couple minutes later, Graciella threw up her hands. “I’m beginning to think you’re hopeless. Change places with me, son. Watch us and see how Cluny does.” She turned her back and reached behind. “Give me your hands.”

She placed them on her hips. He couldn’t breathe. Hands trembling, he coughed.

“Relax, think of it as an exercise in feeling the beat. Close your eyes and sense the music. Let it take over your chest and legs.” She moved beneath his hands. “Follow me. Take a deep breath and let go.”

The last thing he wanted to do was let go. With the music—he’d try—with his hands, no way. He did his best to concentrate on her quiet reassurances. If he wanted this to last, he had to control his libido, which seemed to have a mind of its own. He pressed his hands against her and breathed.

“He’s doing it, Mama. Macfearsome’s doing it.”

“Good, good. See, Cluny, it’s not hard.”

Not yet, due to my amazing willpower.
“I’m trying to concentrate on the music. I’m feeling it.” Then he relaxed and smiled past Graciella’s shoulder at the grinning boy. “Hey, buddy, maybe I’m not a hopeless white boy after all.”

She stiffened. “I think we’ve made a good start. That’s enough for today’s lesson.”

He’d have given the world to take back the words. “Graciella.”

“Santos, would you fetch my handbag from the back? It’s time to go home for a lunch break.”

“OK.” He scampered to the back of the studio.

“Graciella, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It popped out. I feel like a moron.”

Santos came back, holding her bag out. “Here it is.”

She took it and faced Cluny. “We have to leave now. The studio re-opens at two.”

“Let me pick you up tomorrow. I’ll bring the van. There’s plenty of room for the four of us and anything we need to bring. Please.”

“Oh, boy!” Santos’s innocent eyes widened. “That sounds like fun. What time should Macfearsome and Amber come tomorrow?”

Clearly torn as to what her answer should be, Graciella shifted her feet and pushed the strap of her large cloth bag higher on her shoulder.

Cluny jumped in. “How about ten thirty? I’ll bring lunch. Amber has an extra belly board Santos can use.” He put on a sincere face and pleaded with his eyes. Jesus, he prayed, please, I didn’t plan to spoil whatever this could be with a thoughtless comment.

She gazed deep into his eyes. “All right. We’ll be ready at ten thirty. I’ll supply the beverages. We really do have to leave now.”

Relief flowed through him for the bullet he’d managed to dodge. “Great. Good. Come, Queen.” He held the door of the studio for them and waited while she locked it. He murmured a soft, “Oh, ah, I left a dumb message on your home phone. Sorry.”

“What’s Macfearsome sorry about now, Mama?” Santos’s childish question trailed behind them and hung in the suddenly suffocating air surrounding Cluny. He couldn’t make out her answer.

* * *

She shouldn’t have had such a silly knee-jerk reaction to Cluny’s playful comment. The ugliness of last night’s scene with Krystal slammed her full force. She was reaching an impasse with her sister-in-law. Krystal grew more strident in her racist comments every time they encountered her. She’d been avoiding Lillian and Earl for the past few weeks because she didn’t want to encounter Krystal. Her sister-in-law’s schedule was erratic, and Graciella was never sure when she’d be at her parent’s home. She’d call Lillian and invite them to have dinner with her and Santos.

Santos’s happy talk about the planned trip to the beach didn’t end until he took his first bite of lunch. “Aren’t you eating, Mama?”

“I’m not very hungry. I’ll have a piece of fruit and a glass of milk. That’ll hold me until dinner time.”

Should she have agreed to go to Zuma tomorrow? Her heart told her Cluny McPherson was interested in more than a trip to the beach, and that was a dead end. She liked him. Liked him more than any man she’d met in years. Often, decent men she met would show an interest and invite her for dinner, but she always turned them down politely and with the unmistakable finality that she was unavailable. Some of those men she would have welcomed as friends, but true friendship between a man and a woman? A rare creature, a modern day fiction, to be sure. Why take the risk? She’d set Cluny straight tomorrow.

“Mama, why was Auntie Krystal so mad last night when she saw Macfearsome at our house? She doesn’t even know him. I was sad when she was mean to him.”

“I don’t know. I wish I understood her.” She finished her milk. “Time to get back to our samba school. Brush your teeth and see if you can find the CD you’re going to use for the kid’s class at the end of the week.”

She waited until he ran off to the bathroom then picked up her cell phone and called Marvin’s parents. “Hello, Lillian? How are you, dear?”

“We’re fine, Graciella. We haven’t heard from you and Santos for too long. Is everything all right?”

“Yes. We’ve been busy since school let out for the summer. I’m taking Santos to the beach whenever I can get away from classes. Would you and Earl be free to come to dinner on Thursday evening?”

“Let me take a look at Krystal’s shooting schedule this week. I’ll see if she’s available.”

“No…um…Lillian. I’d prefer if you and Earl came alone. Krystal dominates the conversation, and I know Santos wants to visit with you and his grandfather. Tell you about his activities and plans for the summer.”

Lillian didn’t answer for a couple of moments. “What should I tell Krystal?”

“Is it necessary to say anything?” The way Krystal had bullied her parents unsettled Graciella. Lillian and Earl could make their own decisions.

“She’ll wonder where we’re going for the evening. She worries about us driving after dark.”

More likely she didn’t want them out from under her thumb. Lillian and Earl were barely into their mid-sixties, both healthy and robust with all their faculties and abilities intact. Krystal had become more controlling every year since Earl had retired. Graciella sensed the stress in her mother-in-law’s voice.

“Lillian, it’s only four miles. Earl is a good driver, but I’d be happy to pick you up if you’d like.”

“I’m being silly, dear. Of course we’d like to share a meal with you and our grandson Thursday evening. Earl promised him a new fielder’s mitt. I’ll have him pick one up and bring it. We’ll get the men out of the house so you and I can have a gabfest.”

“That sounds wonderful. Plan on coming at five. It doesn’t get dark until after seven, so that will give them plenty of outdoor time. You can keep me company while I finish dinner.”