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“Sure.” He reached over and toyed with the braided bracelet around my wrist while I was driving with my hands at ten and two. “Thanks for letting me come anyway.”
“Thanks for coming.” I ignored the pleasant shiver that ran all through me at his touch. It was a good thing we were almost there. Without my grudge to wrap around myself, interacting with Isaac felt different. Easy and light, but also charged with possibility. The problem was, he still held the power to hurt me. My grudge was gone, but my fear of being hurt by him hadn’t left. I pulled into the parking lot of the first pickup location, relieved we were about to be inundated with nosy chaperones.
Chapter 12 - Isaac
“Who is this chump?” They were the first words out of Uncle G’s mouth when he answered the door, but he had so much twinkly mischief in his light blue eyes, I immediately liked him. What hair he had left stuck straight up in the back, and he had his shirt collar popped. I wasn’t sure if his look was intentional or not, but it only added to the devil-may-care attitude he clearly took so much delight in.
Carmen threaded her arm through mine. Her sweater was a pale pink tonight, and as soft against my skin as it looked. “This is my friend, Isaac. Be nice to him. He’s very sensitive.” She glanced up at me and winked, knowing she’d just thrown down the gauntlet.
“Sensitive, huh? Do you hear this, Don? We have to watch what we say around Carmen’sfriend.”
Don shuffled up behind Uncle G, jacket in hand. “Thank you for coming,bonita. How is Eduardo?”
Carmen let go of my arm and went to escort Don instead, telling him about her dad’s ankle and the upcoming surgery. They were nearly the same height and gave off the same vibe of happy contentment. Uncle G and I let them lead the way back to the van, and I didn’t realize how much I was staring at the charming picture they made together until I got a sharp jab from Uncle G’s bony elbow.
“What’s this friend business?” he asked in what he probably thought was a conspiratorial tone. Pigeons flew off the railing, he was so loud. “Does she not like you or something?”
“Or something,” I said, watching the change in Carmen’s body language, telling me everything I couldn’t see in her face. She was embarrassed but determined not to show it.
“Are you good enough for her?” Uncle G asked.
“Most definitely not.”
“Good answer. Good answer.”
We stopped at a door about seven down from his, and Carmen knocked, only to find out the guy inside had family visiting and wouldn’t be joining us. We collected a few older ladies who were excited to come along, and then headed back to the van.
“Are we picking up your grandmother?” I asked Carmen.
“No. She lives with mytíaLinda, and she’ll get a ride with her. But be prepared. When I introduce you, she’ll have questions.” Carmen gripped the console between us so she could lean in and lower her voice. Her nails were painted a bright yellow today. “Uncle G was a warmup. I’m not going to even bother arguing the friend thing with her. As far as she’s concerned, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re already overdue for popping the question. You can’t win her over, so don’t worry about trying.”
“You’re saying she won’t like me, but she also expects me to marry in?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else I should know?” I turned my head so I could whisper in Carmen’s ear, letting her silky hair brush against my nose. It was madness, this line I toed between flirtation and friendship. “Does she carry around achanclaand whack people with it?”
Carmen softly scoffed. “Such a stereotype. How dare you, Isaac.” Our eyes met, and her smile grew. “She uses a fly swatter. More range.”
“Are we going or are we canoodling?” Uncle G called out from the back seat, ever-so-tactfully.
“We’re going,” Carmen assured him, straightening in her seat. I did the same. Back to business. Carmen put the van in drive and we cruised on over to the next location, occasionally sharing amused glances when the conversation in the back got interesting.
Uncle G was quite the flirt himself. The women pretended to hate it, all while egging him on and giggling.
When we picked up the last three seniors, I gave up my shotgun position and chatted in the back with Uncle G, Don, and the rest of the crew, getting the lowdown on bingo. It wasn’t just for seniors, although they made up the majority. With snowbird season in full swing, it was jam-packed right now.
“They’re all from Minnesota,” Uncle G complained. “Stealing our nice weather and packing the line at Golden Corral. Their grandkiddies dip their fries in the chocolate fountain.”
“You dip your fries in the chocolate fountain,” Don added quietly, smiling to himself.
We reached the church on the corner, and after Carmen pulled into a parking spot, I lent my shoulder and arm as support where needed until we got everyone out. I sensed Carmen watching me, but I wasn’t sure what was going through her mind. Hopefully, she knew this wasn’t me trying to show off or prove myself to her. I just wanted to be helpful. Although, if she did like what she saw, that wouldn’t be terrible either.
“Oh, I forgot to grab the bingo prizes.” Carmen ran around to the back of the van, and I went to help her get the items out and handed off to a volunteer. She had everything from dollar store prizes to boxes of cereal and cocoa mixes in mugs.
“Ah, it’s the old bat,” Don muttered, shuffling alongside me as we came through the doors of the fellowship hall and waited in line to get in. It was the first truly unpleasant thing I’d heard the man say. “I have my five dollars this time, though.”
He reached into his pocket, but I put my hand up. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve never been. New guy pays, right?”
