"You used to be able to lie so smooth . . . humph, humph, humph," she said with a half smile, shaking her head. "I guess there's been improvement, growth. You can't lie to me anymore without me knowing."
"Baby, I got your platter the way you wanted it," he said, guiding her to the counter and then pulling out a stool for her to sit down on. "Let's say the Lord's Prayer over it, then you can eat, and I'll pour you something to drink-"
"No offense, but the Lord's Prayer is a little intense over a falafel platter, don't you think? What about the normal grace that takes all of five seconds?" She was baiting him, but he just shrugged and tried to play it off.
"Naw, it's just that we need to be more careful nowadays."
"Carlos Rivera," Damali said quietly, folding her arms over her chest. "Who did you see and what's going on?" She let her breath out hard when he didn't immediately answer. "Keeping things from me doesn't protect me-it makes me worry. I'd rather know if something bad was about to jump off than get blindsided by it . . . you oughta know me better than that by now."
Carlos took off his sunglasses and dragged his fingers through his hair, sliding the glasses across the counter. He looked both ways and then stepped in close to her, keeping his voice low.
"My job is to help protect you through all of this . . . to keep you chilled out. The whole time you're carrying, everything happening around you needs to be real peace so the baby doesn't go through any trauma because you, my lady, ain't gotta go through no bullshit."
Damali reached up, cradled his face, and gently kissed him. "Impossible job, given who we are and what we do, but I appreciate the sentiment." She leaned closer, almost falling off the stool to hug him while he stood next to her, roughly rubbing her back. Even his touch was off. Both of his huge hands felt like anvils as they tried to pat her shoulders before he stepped away from her, spiking her alarm at the amount of tension riddling his body.
"Tell me," she said in a firm but gentle tone.
"Padre," Carlos finally admitted in a quiet voice. "He prays for you before you eat anything, even when you forget."
Damali caught his hand and pulled him in close, then laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him hard. "I know you miss him . . . is that what this is about?"
"I miss a lot of people, D," he admitted, pushing a stray lock that had worked its way loose from her ponytail behind her ear.
"Then what's wrong?" Damali pulled back and looked deeply into his eyes. "Why else did Padre Lopez come to you? If it was just to make you feel better about missing him, you wouldn't have walked in here all jacked up."
"I'm still linked in," Carlos said on a hard exhale. "Still a f**king GPS system, which is dangerous for anybody near me. . . . If I'm tapped into them, they might be tapped into me and mine."
"You'll always have a tie there," she said quietly. "We both know that. It's our best defense and I'm not afraid of that."
"Yeah, well this time I am," he said in a sudden rush, slapping the center of his chest. "I am, D. Why can't they just give me temporary clearance where I'll know for sure that nothing bad can seep from me to you or from my old life to you? I didnot need to hear that shit this morning!"
"Hey . . ." she said softly, holding on to his arm so he didn't widen the space between them. "I'm silver-plated."
Her attempt to minimize the risk didn't work and she immediately felt bad that she'd even tried that tact. Carlos just looked at her. His mood was sobering, and although she'd known how deeply worried he'd been when she'd conceived, she'd mistakenly thought he'd purged that pain when they'd discussed it before. Clearly he hadn't, or maybe it was that something new had brought it all back with a vengeance.
"It'sgonna be all right, Carlos," she said softly, not knowing what else to say. "The Neteru Councils promised . . ."
"The babyhas to get here this time," he murmured. "You have to make it, too. It's not an either/or choice. Both of you gotta make it, or I won't."
"Gonna do my best, and with you having my back, what's the worry?" She forced a smile and caressed his cheek.
"Damali, there's been an incident. We have to have a family meeting after you eat."
"Eat?Hell . . . no time like the present. Let's get everybody in the Situation Room and-"
"Not till you eat."
She began to pull away, but he held her firm by hugging her where she sat. "C'mon, Carlos, that can wait."
"This is exactly why I've been acting like I have. I need to know that you'll do things a little differently-not a lot differently, just a little differently-like you'll listen to me when I ask you to please sit down and eat."
Slowly, her body yielded within his embrace. "Okay," she finally said. "But can you debrief me here while I eat?" She didn't have the heart to tell him that after scarfing down an entire family-sized bag of chips, the last thing in the world she wanted to do was eat a falafel platter. The mood had passed.
He forced a smile and she could tell that it took a lot for him to make his mouth accept it. "I'll talk, you eat, but that's the deal."
"Deal," she said, reaching around him and picking up the dinner bag he'd left on the counter, glad that the impasse was solved.
"Good, 'cause it don't make no sense trying to raise my kid on barbecue chips."