A gust of cold air slams into my face and ruffles my hair. “Yeah,” I say and zip up my jacket. Tony opens his umbrella, and we huddle under it as we make our way to where I parked my car earlier. It rained all morning, but it seems we can’t catch a break because it’s drizzling again as the sun hides behind the thick canopy of dark, dreary clouds.
Tony offered to accompany me and be my emotional support when I told him an officer had called and asked me to come by the station to give my statement of the attack. It was much easier than I thought it would be. As soon as I gave them my name, they immediately ushered me into a private room to take mystatement and show me photos of the three men who attacked me so I could confirm it was them. I thought I would have to identify them in a lineup, but they said it wasn’t necessary. I was glad I didn’t have to see their faces again. The last three nights since the attack, I’ve been having terrible nightmares. Only, Logan never shows up to save me in them. This morning, I woke up all sweaty and so sick to my stomach that I threw up.
We sidestep a puddle at the same time, and Tony turns his head slightly to look at me. “Are you still planning on coming to work tonight?”
I nod. “Marnie told me I can take as much time off as I need, but honestly, I don’t want to be alone. I think working will help keep my mind off it.”
“I would take the time off if I were you, buttercup. But you do you.”
We stop at a red light before crossing the street. “So, how are things with McDreamy, or should I say McSteamy?” I ask, a salacious smile spreading on my face.
Tony makes a gesture with his hand in the air. “Oh, we broke it off.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “That fast?”
“Well, this bitch needs to be entertained. He was always busy studying, and he had long shifts. Plus, I can’t do monogamy. It’s so boring.”
I laugh at his response. “How long were you together?”
“Like two weeks, and trust me, it was enough.” He shudders like he is appalled by his brief monogamous rebellion. “Are you hungry? There’s this Mexican restaurant a block from here. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, so don’t expect anything fancy, but I swear they have the best tacos in all of Ashville.”
“I love tacos,” I tell him, grateful that I don’t have to be alone after being forced to remember every single detail of the night I was attacked.
Tu Tía Locais exactly as Tony said, a hole-in-the-wall with only four small tables. Still, the inside is cozy and charming, with colorful walls decorated in intricateDíade los Muertosmurals, a different skull on each wall, my favorite being the one on my right with a gorgeous crown of blue-purple flowers. We place our orders at the small counter and sit at the only available wooden table next to the foggy window. The place smells incredible, and I can’t wait to stuff my face with the tacosal pastorI ordered. Murmured conversations fill the air, along with the sound of pots and pans being used in the kitchen.
Tony clinks his cocktail glass with mine. “So, what are you doing for Halloween?”
I shrug and take a sip out of my virgin margarita. “I honestly haven’t thought about it since it’s a month away.”
“What do you normally do?”
“Well, before finding out about my heart condition, I never partied at all because my mom would have a conniption every time I mentioned I wanted to go with Chloe, my best friend, to one, so…I would just stay home and give candy to the kids, and that’s about it.”
Tony gasps at my words, bringing a hand to his chest like he is personally offended by my uneventful youth. “That’s it, you’re coming with me at the bonfire on the shore of Shadow Lake. It’s going to be amazing. It’s a yearly Halloween tradition in Ashville, and you’ll get to meet a lot of my friends. Maybe hook up with someone.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
My first instinct is to refuse him, the old Ava rearing her head, and then I berate myself for falling into the same patterns as before. I’m finally out of my mother’s reach, and I promised myself that I would live and experience as much as I could now that I know what it’s like to have my days numbered. I smile warmly at Tony. “I would love that.”
“I’ve already planned out my costume. I’m going as FreddyMercury. I have a fabulous pair of golden sequined pants, and I bought a fake mustache and a wig. I’m going to look incredible.”
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I say, “I don’t have any ideas for a costume, and I can’t afford to spend too much.”
“Something slutty always works.” He takes a hearty sip of his margarita, then his eyes widen. “Buckle up, buttercup, ‘cause I just had the most brilliant idea. You’re Latina, right? We could both go as singers. I have this purple jumpsuit we can adjust, and then you can go as Selena Quintanilla. I even have a spare microphone I can give you.”
“That’s such a good idea. I loved Selena when I was little.”
An old lady with silver braided hair wearing a beautiful violet ample skirt and a flowery peasant blouse comes out of the kitchen and brings us our food. She has these deep lines etched into her face, the kind at the outer corners of her eyes that say she’s had a full life of smiling with abandon.
“¡Buen provecho!¡Que disfruten!” she tells us as she slides the plates filled with tacos onto the table.
I return the smile. “¡Gracias, señora!” She reminds me so much of myAbuelitaon my mother’s side. My dearAbuelita, who told me to believe in myself and to follow my dreams. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to spend much time with her since she still lived in Mexico, but I visited her as much as I could in the summer. She was the one who taught me how to bake. We used to spend hours in the kitchen together. It was our thing. She sadly got sick a few years ago and died of lung cancer. I still miss her terribly.
She left me a hefty inheritance I could access when I turned twenty. That’s how I could afford to live (or die) on my own, and then I still had some money left to buy my car and rent the apartment here in Ashville.
Tony takes a bite of one of his tacos at the same time as me. “Holy smokes! I think I died and went to heaven,” I say througha mouthful, my eyes widening. I do a little shimmy with my shoulders as I take another bite.
He smirks at me. “Told ya.”
We don’t talk as we eat and make a mess out of our hands. There’s something so satisfying about being able to enjoy a meal without concerning yourself with decorum or what the other person thinks.
