“Marry me, Maria Luisa,” he said. He insisted on calling her Maria Luisa because he couldn’t stand the thought of her being Esteban’sMaMaLu,or of another man touching her.
MaMaLu didn’t reply. She started closing the door on his face.
“So this is what it’s come to?” He jammed his foot in the door. “Have you forgotten who rescued you from Fernando, who got you this job and a place for you and your son?”
“That was years ago, Victor. I’ve been paying my dues ever since. I’m done. I want nothing more to do with you.”
Victor forced the door open and flung the flowers away. MaMaLu stumbled back, stepping on mud and fallen lilies.
“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?” Victor sneered. “Have you told your son that he’s a bastard?”
MaMaLu gasped.
“You think I didn’t know? Oh yes. Fernando told me. Esteban’s father didn’t die in a fishing accident. He took off while you were planning your little wedding. He wanted nothing to do with you or your bastard baby. I’m giving you a chance to reclaim your honor. You should be grateful I’m willing to give the boy my name.”
“He doesn’t need your name. And neither do I. I’d rather live with no honor than take the name of a man who trades lives for money.”
“I’m a bodyguard. Idefendpeople.”
“Then where were you when Adriana Sedgewick was shot? You were supposed to be with her. It seems rather convenient that you got called away when you did. In fact, I would bet—”
“Shut up!” Victor grabbed MaMaLu by the neck and shook her until she was gasping.
Esteban shot out of bed and launched at him. He rammed his head into Victor’s stomach and knocked the wind out of him. “Let her go!”
But Victor was much stronger. He let go of MaMaLu as he held Esteban at bay. Esteban kicked and punched in the air before Victor tossed him to the floor.
“You’re going to regret this.” Victor pointed his finger at MaMaLu. His voice was cold and hard.
“Get out,” said MaMaLu. “Get out before I call Señor Sedgewick.”
Victor spat at her feet and turned on his heel. MaMaLu stood tall and straight until he was gone. Then she rushed to Esteban’s side. “Are you all right,cariño?”
Esteban swallowed the lump in his throat. “Is it true what he said? My father didn’t die? He just . . . left? He never wanted me.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Esteban. It was mine. I was young and foolish. I thought he loved me.”
For as long as Esteban could remember, MaMaLu had been a fighter. She was proud and strong, and she never cried. But now big, fat tears quivered on the brink of her lashes. She held them back as long as she could, but when she blinked, they left wet trails down her cheeks.
And then MaMaLu wept—odd, stilted sobs that tore Esteban to pieces. He hadn’t been able to defend her. He didn’t know how to comfort her. So Esteban did the only thing that comforted him. He put her head on his lap and he sang to her.
Ay, yai, yai, yai,
Sing and do not cry . . .
ESTEBAN GOT INTO A LOT of trouble after that. He stayed late at the village, watching good guys fight bad guys in the first of the many western movies that he grew to love. He was Blondie, the professional gunslinger inThe Good, The Bad and The Ugly, except he wasn’t out to earn a few dollars. He was the hard-ass who would come to MaMaLu’s defense. There was just one problem. When he got home, he was the one that needed defending. From MaMaLu.
“Estebandido!” She only called him that when she was pissed. And when MaMaLu was pissed, she came after him with a broom.
Every time Esteban felt the stiff fibers scratching up against the back of his legs, he ran faster, until MaMaLu gave up. She would head back in, but leave the broom by the door. Esteban would wait a while before returning.
“MaMaLu, it’s me.” He would shuffle his feet at the entrance. “Your Estebandido is home.”
MaMaLu would open the door and stare him down. When he was sufficiently shriveled up under her death glare, she’d turn away and get back into bed. She always left him a plate oftostadasand a glass ofhorchata. He would eat in the dark and smile, dreaming of the day he would kick Victor’s ass.
When Esteban saw his first martial arts movie, he painted Victor’s face on a fence and kicked it in. That earned him a year’s worth of chores. MaMaLu did not believe in going easy. Of course, it didn’t help that Victor was always picking on him. It was a sure-fire way to get to MaMaLu, and Victor took great pleasure in tormenting her for having rejected him. When Esteban punched one of the kids at Skye’s birthday party, Victor could barely conceal his glee. He dragged Esteban out by the collar, hoping MaMaLu would follow, pleading for him to go easy, but she was too proud for that.
Ultimately, it didn’t turn out as satisfying as Victor had thought it would. Cutting the rough, weed-infested grass with a pair of scissors should have broken Esteban, but the boy didn’t complain. The satisfaction of knocking Gideon Benedict St. John’s tooth out made it worthwhile. That, plus the fact that Warren had invited him to attend classes with Skye had Esteban smiling, even though his knees and elbows were red and raw by the time he was done.
