“Because he loved her. You love someone, you forgive a lot of shit. She wasn’t exactly doin’ the wrong thing, mamita, he was.”

Hector was right.

I pulled in breath, looked at him a second then two then let the breath go and leaned into him, pressing my cheek against his chest and giving him a tight squeeze.

Then I moved, doing a circle so his arms were still around me but my back was to his front.

I looked at the room to see everyone was watching.

“I’m okay,” I announced to the room and surprisingly I was.

I looked at Vance and my voice went soft.

“Thank you,” I said and he gave me a chin lift which I took to mean “you’re welcome”.

My eyes skimmed across Malcolm, Kitty Sue and Tom and then rested on Blanca.

“Unless someone else wants to rock my world, I think we can have breakfast now,” I told her. “Can I help?”

Blanca gave me a close look. Then she must have approved of what she saw because she smiled and declared, “Today, I’ll teach you to scramble eggs.”

I knew how to scramble eggs but I decided not to tell Blanca that, it might spoil the fun.

And heaven knew, I needed some fun.

I felt Hector lean into me and he whispered in my ear so only I could hear, “Will of f**kin’ steel.”

The warm, snugly, comfy, lovely feeling was back with the happy glow and I knew part of it had to do with what I learned that morning.

And the fact that Hector had given me that too.

Now, in my bizarre world of bizarre events that happened every day, that was the bizarrest of all. My boyfriend, who happened bizarrely to be the ex-DEA agent that brought down my Drug Kingpin father, also, in a bizarre way, brought my father back to me.

Blooming heck.

How totally bizarre was that?

I could be my own soap opera!

Instead of sharing any of this with Hector, I turned to look at him, leaned in and touched my mouth to his. Even though his arms flexed around me and his eyes flashed at my mouth touch, I gave him a small smile, pulled away and headed toward Blanca.

Kitty Sue grabbed a bag of bread and the toaster.

Tom moved to make another pot of coffee.

Then Blanca taught me something I already knew.

And after breakfast, I walked hand-in-hand with Hector, following Vance to the door, and I asked Vance if he had time that day to take me to my mother’s stuff.

Vance said he did.

That’s when I knew that day was definitely going to beat out yesterday and the day before as my second best day ever.

Though, nothing was going to beat The Day of Hector and The S’mores.

Nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mr. Edge

Sadie

As all others around me clapped, hooted and screamed, I stood stunned with my mouth hanging open, staring at the darkened stage.

Roxie leaned into me and screamed, “She’s the shit, isn’t she?”

Still too stunned to look away from the stage, I just nodded.

* * * * *

After the traumatic pre-breakfast events and relearning to make scrambled eggs with Blanca, Ralphie called and told me that the news of the Balduccis going down was so good, he’d changed that evening from a cozy dinner for four to “A Big Ol’ Blowout” (Ralphie’s words). All the Rock Chicks (plus Tod and Stevie, Duke and Tex) were invited to Ralphie and Buddy’s for a “The Balducci Brothers Have Finally Been Brought Down Blowout”. We ate Ralphie’s hors d’ouevres (which were actually really good). Jet brought some chocolate, caramel brownies that were to-die-for, Indy brought a humungous bag of whole, salted cashews and the rest of the girls brought enough booze for fifteen Balducci Brothers Blowouts.

Hector and the Hot Bunch, all busy with other activities (likely cleaning up my problems, I still didn’t know what this meant and didn’t ask, not because I didn’t want to know, because I’d had a hectic day, what with sorting through my thoughts, my Mom’s stuff and helping Ralphie and Buddy with the party), managed to show their faces even if it was for a few minutes. They shifted through, eating, having a soda, toasting to one of the gazillion boisterous Balducci Brothers Have Finally Been Brought Down Toasts (the Rock Chicks started a competition for the best toast, Ally declared Shirleen the winner with her “Burn Motherfuckers Burn” toast) and then sliding out again.

Later, when we got bored with the toasts and were full up with food, it was time to consider alternate party activities and Stevie suggested a Yahtzee marathon (too many people). Ralphie suggested a Veronica Mars marathon (not active enough). Ally suggested travelling up to Fort Collins to see Stella’s gig (we were drinking too much, it was too far away and the gig had already started). Then Jet suggested we go to Smithie’s, a strip club.

Everyone agreed to Smithie’s.

In my sheltered life, I’d never had cause to think of strip clubs or strippers much less consider the possibility I’d ever go to a club and see a stripper. Since Daisy had stripped there in a past life, Jet had worked there as a cocktail waitress when her thing was going on with Eddie and the bad guys and Jet’s sister was currently the top dancer for Smithie and, Jet told me (with pride), she was the finest stripper in the Rocky Mountain Region, I thought it best not to pass judgment.

Though, I wasn’t certain sure about hanging out at a strip club.

* * * * *

At Indy’s request, I phoned Jack at the offices to ask him to put a callout for rides to the club as we’d already been drinking heavily and apparently the Hot Bunch didn’t only act as protectors and bad business cleaner-uppers, they were also on call to be designated drivers when the Rock Chicks were tying one on.

This, by the way, was my fourth call to Jack that day.

This was how the last call went:

Me: “Jack?”

Jack (loud and angry): “Would you quit f**kin’ callin’? I was just clipped. It took six measly stitches to close it up. For the last time, I’m f**kin’ fine!”

Me (snappy and impatient): “Well! Don’t blame me for worrying! No one has ever been shot keeping me safe before!”

Jack (after an angry sigh): “I’m beginnin’ to wish I hadn’t put on the vest.”

Me (full of attitude): “Jack, you’re just going to have to deal. It’s like they do when someone saves someone’s life and for the rest of that someone’s life, the other someone looks out for them.”

Jack (now angry and confused): “What?”

Me (just confused): “I don’t know. I think it’s Asian. Maybe the samurai?”