I’d been awake five seconds. I could barely think much less talk with Hector with Hector’s heat at my back and Hector’s thumb stroking my breast.
I definitely should have feigned sleep.
It was time to form an upon waking escape plan so I could go somewhere and get my multiple personalities together where we could confer and decide who was going to take on this latest challenge.
“I, um, need to use the bathroom,” I tried.
This failed.
“In a minute,” he responded firmly.
“I’m not sure I want to talk,” I told him, trying again.
This failed too. Miserably.
“That’s good too, because you aren’t gonna be talking.”
Oh no.
A talk without me talking.
That definitely was not good.
“Hector –” I started and tried to turn but his arm got tight, his body fitted itself close to my back and I couldn’t move.
“Sadie, quiet and listen,” he ordered.
I could just not win.
I hadn’t even been awake for two minutes and I had another life trauma on my hands!
Oh well, so be it.
I willed my body to relax but mentally braced for what was to come next.
Hector felt the tension leave me and his thumb went back to stroking (this, I had to admit, felt super nice, but I told myself to ignore it, this didn’t work but at least I tried).
Then Hector started talking.
“I grew up in a house full of family, brothers, sisters, a mother, a father. My Dad was a prosecuting attorney and he worked long hours. Mamá was a part-time guidance counselor at our high school. We weren’t rich but they managed to give us everything we needed even if we didn’t have most of the shit we wanted. They worked but they were around. They were good parents, in our business, in our faces, providing guidance but letting us f**k up enough so we could learn. Some of us took advantage, f**ked around, caused them problems. They never gave up hoping we’d eventually do the right thing and made sure we knew that.”
Now, why was he telling me this?
In a perfect world, of course, I would want to know all about Hector’s life.
But this was far from a perfect world.
And, I wondered, was Hector one of the ones who “fucked around, caused them problems”?
I didn’t get a chance to ask (not that I would), because he kept talking.
“I don’t know how you grew up but I watched you with your father when I was on the inside, mamita, and, at first, I didn’t understand it. When I did, it turned my stomach.”
I drew in breath and held it.
I didn’t know what I expected from this first thing in the morning talk where I didn’t get to talk but that wasn’t it.
I had forgotten, or chosen not to remember, how much he’d been around. My father kept him close, he liked him, trusted him, he even told me he was grooming Hector for “big things”. In the end, Hector had been around loads.