Pink Neon Dreams (28 page)

His smile widened into a grin. “Yeah, I’ll say
something about us.
 
Just don’t say I didn’t
warn you.”

“About what?”

“I’ve never brought a woman home to her before so
she’s going to treat you like family,” he said.

Cecily met his gaze and smiled just as big. “I can
deal with it, sugar, so start dialing.”

“Mama?
It’s me,” he said after he placed the call.
 
She noticed he spoke English, probably for
her benefit. “We’ll be there this afternoon, three or after so plan on supper,
okay? Yes.
 
She’s very excited to meet you.
 
Her name’s Cecily Brown.
 
Yeah, she’s a girl, a woman, really, and very
beautiful.”

She heard his mother’s voice and although she
couldn’t make out the words, the woman sounded happy and eager for their
arrival.
 
Daniel listened and then said,
“Yeah, she’s special.
 
I call her
querida.
 
Si, mama.
You’ll see her then.
 
I’ll tell you all about it or she can.
 
All right, Mama, we need to get on the
highway.”

“So?” Cecily said as he pulled out of the hotel
parking lot into traffic.

“She can’t wait to meet you,” Daniel said. “And
she’s cooking so you’re in for a treat.”

They left Lubbock and headed west on an older
highway, not the interstate.
 
A blue sky
smiled down on them as they traveled and Cecily sat beside Daniel, serene.
 
She resisted an urge to giggle like a little
girl, but happiness remained like a bright bubble within.
 
Cecily found it difficult to remember they
weren’t on a road trip but on the run.
 
All the way to El Paso, they talked and chatted about everything from
music to memories.
 
The connection she’d
felt from the first day he strolled into her shop seemed tighter now and Cecily
enjoyed the closeness.
 
For the moment
she determined not to worry about the future but to enjoy Daniel’s company.

The route took them along a diagonal slant through
the corner of New Mexico and through Carlsbad.
 
Some of the scenery proved to be of the loveliest she’d seen so far
although in the arid summer heat, it didn’t resemble some of the luscious
scenes she recalled from magazine pictures.
 
But she liked it and she could see Daniel appreciated the beauty, too.

As they passed through Carlsbad, she wondered if
they’d grab a bite to eat but when she asked, Daniel shook his head. “I’ll buy
you a soda and something small if you want but save your appetite for Mama’s
cooking,” he said. “We’re probably halfway there.
 
Are you hungry?”

She shrugged.
“Just a little.”

“Then I’ll buy you a dollar sandwich somewhere,” he
said. “I’m not trying to starve you. Mama won’t probably feed us till five or
six tonight, anyway.
 
Tell me what you
want.”

Cecily picked a chicken sandwich and they rolled
through the first fast food drive-thru offering a value menu to pick up a pair.
 
He pulled into a small state park just
outside of town and they ate in the truck.
 
She stretched when they stepped out to toss their trash into a
wastebasket and Daniel caught her from behind. “I’d like a kiss,
querida.”

Although they lacked time for a long embrace, his
mouth impacted hers and evoked an immediate thrill.
 
No one had ever kissed her with such fire and
Cecily didn’t think she’d ever have enough.
 
Her arms strung around his neck and clasped behind his head to keep him
close.
 
His lips warmed hers and fused
into one of the
most tender
kisses he’d ever
delivered.
 
Her fingers trespassed into
his hair and ran through the black strands. “Your hair’s growing out,” she
commented when they surfaced for air.

Daniel chuckled. “I need a haircut.”

“Oh, no, you don’t, sugar.” Cecily adored his thick
yet silky hair.
 
Although trimmed to near
military precision when they first met, it’d grown out to be unruly and unkempt
enough to be sexy. “I like it this way better.”

He blew air between his lips, but his grin alerted
her he didn’t mind what she’d said. “It’s shaggy.”

“Uh-uh, sugar,” she said. “It’s a long damn way from
there.”

His chuckle delighted her even when he put an arm
across her shoulders and said, “We probably need to get on down the road.
 
Right now, a haircut falls into the small
shit category.”

Cecily leaned against him. “I suppose so.
 
Once we get to El Paso, eat your mama’s good
food, and rest, then what?”

“We try to figure out if we can tie Johnson Hamilton
to your ex’s murder.
 
If we can, we do
and then we go from there.”

The dash of reality hit with the force of winter
sleet.
“Sounds hard.”

“It won’t be easy,
chica,
but it matters enough to try.
 
For now, let’s go home.”

Home.
 
The word represented a common theme, Cecily
thought. Since one of the last things she’d said to him before leaving her
place at Branson had been it’d been more of a home since he’d come than
anywhere in years. Reflecting now, she found it true.
 
With Daniel’s presence and Nia’s brief visit,
the small house felt like home, not just where she lived but a place of refuge,
somewhere she wanted to be, where she belonged.
 
He’d told her he’d never lived in El Paso but he used the word. “Is it
home?” she asked as they climbed into the truck.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “It’s where my mother
lives,” he said. “I guess it’s as close as I’ve got.”

“But you live in Kansas City.”

Something she couldn’t quite define shadowed his
features. “I work in KC but my place is in Raytown, a suburb,” he said in a low
tone. “Or I did but my efficiency apartment’s not anywhere I’d consider a
home.
 
It’s just a place to sleep, that’s
all.”

Another similarity between them because she felt the
same way about the house she shared with Willard on Canal Street.
 
They’d both drifted, solitary and lonesome
for too long.

“I know the feeling,” she said.
 

Daniel
paused and put his hand over hers with a faint smile.
 
“When this is done,
querida,
” he said. “We’ll both go home at night, together.”

Few things ever sounded better as she settled down
in the seat beside him. Cecily had no idea where they might reside or what they
would do, but as long as she shared life space with Daniel, she’d be good.
 
She folded her left hand and touched her
knuckles to his cheek. “If that’s a promise, sugar, I’m holding you to it.”

“
Si, querida
.”

They rode the remaining hours over the highway,
sometimes talking, often listening to whatever tunes she could find on the
radio but in harmony.
 
As El Paso came
into sight, Cecily gawked.
 
She’d never
been to the west Texas
city
, but the images of it came
from the Marty Robbins songs and she hadn’t expected it to be so large or
modern.
 
When she confessed her thoughts
to Daniel, he laughed.

“It was like that once,” he said. “But it’s a big
place.
 
Mama’s house is in the northeast
part of town, tucked away out of most of it.
 
It’s in Mountain View, not far from Biggs.”

“Biggs?”

“Biggs Army Airfield,” he said. “That’s the original
name. It’s a military airport, part of Fort Bliss.”

He navigated the mid-afternoon traffic with ease,
maneuvering the old pickup with the skill of a professional driver.
 
Cecily’s calm evaporated as they drew closer
to his mother’s home and her nerves jangled off-key.
 
She bounced her foot, tapped her fingers
against the seat beside her, and sighed until Daniel shot her a glance.
 
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am,” she said with a little defiance.
“What’s your mama going to think about me?”

Growing up, she’d been poor but proud, sassy but
somewhat confident. The years she spent as Mrs. Willard Bradford
The
Fourth robbed most of her self-esteem.
 
She’d gained it back when she made up her
mind to divorce him and reclaimed some of it when she put Chicago in the
rearview mirror. Starting life over on her own terms helped, but right now, she
experienced major anxiety.
 
Maybe his
mother wouldn’t like her.
 
She probably
expected a nice young woman, demure and sweet, not a sassy-mouthed ghetto
bitch.
 

“She’s going to love you,” Daniel said with
surprise.

“Does she know I’m black?” Cecily asked, her voice
emerging shriller than she planned. “Will it matter?”

Daniel slowed the truck as they took an exit. “
Querida,
” he said with obvious patience.
“I haven’t told her anything but your name and that we’re together.
 
But my mama won’t care, not in a family with
everything from Mexican to Comanche to redneck.
 
Her grandma was Comanche, full blood, her mama was half Native American,
half Mexican and her daddy, my grandpa was Irish and Mexican.
 
My daddy was a mixture of Southern redneck
and Mexican.
 
She won’t blink at your
heritage.”

His no-nonsense tone held a certainty and she
relaxed, a little. “If you say so,” she said with a sigh.

“I do,” he replied. “And we’re almost there so calm
down.”

“Aren’t you going to call her?”

“No,” he said. “She’s expecting us and it’s just a
little after three now.”

As they drove through the streets on the north side
of El Paso, they left behind the busy commercial thoroughfares for a
neighborhood, old and settled but well-kept overall.
 
Streets lined with suburban tract houses
dating back fifty years or more reminded her of scenes from a movie.
 
Most were ranch style and the age of the
trees confirmed her notion the neighborhood had been around for a long time.
 
None of the houses were large, almost none
had a second story, and she guessed mostly blue collar folks called the area
home.
 
Cecily saw a few kids on bikes,
two girls playing hopscotch on a cracked sidewalk, and smiled.
 
So far, she saw a variety of races and skin
shades so maybe she wouldn’t be out of place here.

He turned onto a street marked Maxwell Avenue and
pulled into a short concrete drive.
 
“Here we are,” he said.
 
Cecily
barely had time to view the compact house, painted a light, pleasant blue
before a woman appeared in the doorway.
 
Although she lacked Daniel’s height and her body had more padding than
his, Cecily saw a resemblance in their faces.
 
Mrs. Padilla’s skin appeared darker than her own.
 
Her hair had been swept up into an elaborate
bun on the top of her head and the eyes shining at the sight of her son were
blue as an autumn sky.
 
She smiled and
waved.
 
When Daniel stepped out of the
truck, the woman met him and hugged him tight.

“
Mi hijo
!”
Her voice rang out, warm and
flavored with a Spanish lilt. “I’m so glad you’re here.
 
I’ve been cooking all day and waiting. It’s
been too long since I’ve seen you, Daniel.”

“I come when I can,” he said with a smile.
 
Cecily climbed out of the truck and he
beckoned her forward.
 
“Mama, this is Cecily
Brown.
 
Querida,
this is my mother, Luz Padilla.”

“I’m glad to meet you,” Cecily said, feeling almost
shy.
 
Before she finished the sentence,
Daniel’s mom swept her into her arms and hugged her tight.

“Oh, Cecily, it’s so good to meet you,” she said.
“It’s about time my son brought a woman to my house and I know you must be
special or he wouldn’t.”

“Mama,” Daniel said. “She is but this is more than
just bringing her to meet my mama.
 
It’s
a long story, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Come in,” Luz said. “Supper won’t be ready for a while
yet, but you can bring your bags inside.”

They followed Luz into the house, into a small but
comfortable living room.
 
Cecily inhaled
delicious aromas, spices and beef, onions and garlic.
 
Her stomach almost purred.
 
Daniel carried their simple luggage down a
short hallway and ducked into the bathroom. Cecily settled down on the sofa
while Luz sat in a recliner near the front window and beamed.
 
“I’m happy you’re here. You bring out the
good side of my son. He acts better than he has for a long time,” she told Cecily.
“So are you from Kansas City where Daniel lives?”