“Trust is earned,” I say and slide the money back toward her. “If everything works out, please make another appointment.”
Natalie stands and stashes the money back in her purse. “Okay. Let’s test your theory.”
I watch as she leaves the shop, suddenly exhausted from the emotional drain I experienced working with her. I walk into the main part of the store and wait for Juanita to finish ringing up a purchase for her only customer. Once she finishes, I give her a sad smile.
“Hard day at the office?” she asks, walking around the counter.
“Want to go out for dinner?”
“Sure? What do you have in mind?”
“Authentic Mexican food.”
“Great choice. I know the perfect place.”
I glance at the wall clock. The shop closes in thirty minutes. “Meet you out back in an hour?”
“Sure thing.”
Though I don’t need another shower, I’m in the mood to take a relaxing soak in that big garden tub. I head to my room, thinking about what dress to wear on my date with my best friend.
An hour later, Juanita turns into the parking lot of Casa Sanchez. It’s a combination bar-restaurant, and packed for six o’clock on a Thursday night. We wait in line for the hostess to take our names.
“Welcome to Casa Sanchez,” the teenager greets us. “How many people are in your party?”
“Two,” I answer.
“Would you like a table? Or do you prefer a booth in the bar?”
“Margaritas,” Juanita whispers in my ear. “Big ones.”
I laugh. “The bar, please.”
“This way.” The hostess grabs two menus and leads the way to the bar.
There’s seven big screens in the open space, all tuned in on different sports. Football and basketball memorabilia, mostly from local high school teams and New Orleans decorate the walls. Skeletal looking black ceiling fans whip up a cool breeze overhead, and stained-glass lamps hang over every table. We’re seated at the only available booth in the back corner, away from all the noise.
“You like crowds,” I observe, sliding onto my bench.
“After living in silence for so long,” Juanita says, “yeah, a little chaos feeds my soul. What about you? How do you feel about joining the human race again?”
I really don’t know. I’ve lived mechanically for so long, getting up at the same time every day, doing whatever Sammy expected, prepared dinner, cleaned the kitchen, took a shower, waited in bed for my husband, fucked him, then went to sleep. “It feels strange.”
“I bet it does.” She pats my hand and then opens her menu. “The carne guisada is so good here.”
A waitress approaches the table and sets two glasses of ice water in front of us. “Welcome to Casa Sanchez. I’m Amber, your server for the evening. What can I get you ladies to drink?”
Juanita throws me an I-got-this look. “Two pomegranate margaritas with two shots of Tequila on the side.”
“Be right back,” the server says and ambles off in the direction of the bar.
“Jesus, Juanita, are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Yep.” She smiles. “And then I’m going to take advantage of you.”
“Does Joseph have a brother?”
She takes a sip of water. “Three sisters.”
