Page 71 of Play With Me
“So what stopped Morroni from retaliating? Everything I’ve found shows he’s been relatively calm since he was iced out.”
“I mean, I guess because I kept Luca and his men on for security? As long as Luca is there, Vinny has a foot in the door.” I shrug, still trying to think of how or why Mick would have gone into business with Vinny, only to break ties so suddenly, so many years later.
“It just seems too easy,” Anders murmurs, shaking his head. His fingers raise to stroke his beard as he mutters to himself. “The only connection we’ve found with the men who were murdered is that theyall had memberships at Désirer. But what if they were in on what Morroni was doing? Ahh, it still doesn’t explain the letters, though. Why threaten you specifically?”
I think back to the names of the men who were killed. None of them ring any specific bell save for being members. Even when Vinny was at the club, I can’t think of any distinctive time he held an audience with any of them.
All thoughts of murders and whodunit are pushed from my mind by apprehension as I pull into my parents’ neighborhood. “Hey, smooth guy?” I interrupt his mumbling.
“Huh?” His attention turns to me, and he only takes a second to realize we’ve slowed down on a quiet suburban street. “Oh, shit. Do you want me to wait in the car with Maya while you talk to them first? Or how do you wanna do this, baby girl? I got your back either way.”
“I still don’t know why I have to stay here. Why can’t I just stay with Jill like normal? They don’t even want us,” Maya speaks up from the back, startling me.
Hearing her say her grandparents don’t want her pains me. I’ll be damned if my little girl will be subjected to the wrath I had to endure the last time I saw Mami and Papi.
I turn into the driveway of the house I grew up in. The yellow brick, red tiled roof, American foursquarehome looks just like it did the day I left. The same low bushes are trimmed neatly in front of the porch. Pots of violets still frame the stairway leading up to the mahogany door with its etched glass panes.
I draw a slow, deep breath as I exit the car and make my way up the stairs. Everything about this place is exactly the same. I can only hope the one thing that has changed is Mami’s mind.
After I ring the doorbell, I straighten my jacket. Instead of sticking with the casual clothing I’ve been wearing the past few days, I opted for a cream-fitted blazer and high-waisted pants from alice + olivia. My power suits always make me feel more in control of a situation, and right now, I need all the help I can get.
Through the panes, I can see the blurred image of Mami. My lungs burn with the breath I’m holding as the sound of footsteps grows louder, and I fight the urge to turn around and find any other solution to keeping Maya safe.
Mami opens the door. She hasn’t changed much in the last fourteen years. Gray streaks through her dark hair at the temples, and her deep brown eyes carry a sadness I’ve never seen. Other than that, she looks just how I remember.
“Can I help yo–” Her words die in her throat as her hands fly to her mouth. “Carmelita?” she asks unbelievingly.
“Who’s at the door, love?” Papi’s voice driftsdown the hall from the kitchen—along with the nostalgic aroma of café cooking in the cafetera.
He pops his head around the corner just as Mami cries, “It’s Carmelita!” before throwing her arms around me.
Tears instantly spring to my eyes as I return her hug. Papi jogs down the hall, mouth open in a toothy grin. Where Mami has barely changed in appearance, Papi now has no hair, and his face is beginning to wrinkle around the eyes and mouth. Our eyes lock over Mami’s shoulder. “Hi, Papi. Mami.”
This wasn’t the welcome I was expecting.
Years of unresolved, pent-up frustration melt away in seconds as my parents embrace me with tears flowing down their faces. Distantly, I hear the sound of the car doors opening and shutting over Mami’s sobs.
“I have someone I want you to meet.” I pull back and shift my attention to where Maya and Anders are walking up the porch.
Mami and Papi both make sounds of disbelief. “Is this nuestra nieta?”
“Yes, this is your granddaughter, Mami. This is Maya.” I wrap my hands around Maya’s shoulders as she comes to stand beside me. She’s stiff, and a frown mars her beautiful face. I don’t blame her for having her guard up, and I won’t force her to be overly friendly—as long as she’s respectful and polite.
“Querida niña, eres hermosa,” Mami tells her how beautiful she is, walking forward to cup her cheeks.
Maya’s lips turn up for an instant before she replies, “Thank you.”
“And who is this?” Papi asks, gesturing to Anders, who’s perched on the top step, waiting to be invited into the fray.
I freeze. Unsure of how to introduce Anders. We didn’t discuss this, and if my parents find out he lives in California, it’s only going to invite a lot of questions I don’t have the answers to.
Anders steps up beside me, holding his hand out for Papi to shake. “Anderson Brooks, sir. I’m your daughter’s boyfriend.”
Well…I guess that settles that.
“...and then he told him, ‘I’m going to need the strongest tape you have, sir. Because your daughter is bound to break my heart.’” Mami finishes telling the story of how she and Papi met in the hardware store my abuelo owned.
Anders laughs politely and gives me a discreet, concerned look—the fifth in the last hour. For not seeing my parents in nearly fifteen years, they act like no time has passed at all. But there’s still a tense layerof apprehension in the air. It shows in Maya’s clipped tone when answering a question and Mami’s tight smile when she asks how I’m doing as a single mother.