I liked all of it.

His head came out of my neck and he looked at me. “And the way I remembered it, you tasted f**kin’ great.”

My rapidly beating heart tripped.

“It’s my lip gloss,” I said stupidly.

A slow smile spread on his face. “Mamita, trust me, it isn’t your lip gloss.”

I didn’t answer mainly because I was in his lap, I just made out with him (again) and he was smiling at me close up.

Where was my Ice Princess now, I ask you? There were moments I could still use her. What was she? On vacation?

“Time to feed you,” he told me.

Thank God.

Relief from full on Hector, his mouth, tongue and heat. I could use that quite desperately. I needed to get my head together. This was not going well mainly because it was going well.

It wasn’t supposed to go well. It was supposed to be a disaster.

“Okay,” I agreed but didn’t move.

He kept smiling as he leaned in and gave me a brief kiss then twisted me back in my seat. He started the Bronco, I put on my seatbelt, he put on his and we took off.

Considering how the first ten minutes of our date went, I was a little worried about the rest of the night.

* * * * *

Hector parked on a residential street in the Highlands.

I looked around thinking maybe there was a corner restaurant or something. He got out, I threw open my door but he was there before I could alight. He took my hand, helped me out and kept hold of my hand.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he walked me up to what looked like a house.

“Dinner,” Hector replied.

I stared at the house. It was a nice house, small, neat yard, cozy.

Then, because it was a house, I began to panic.

“Is this your house?” I breathed as we made it to the front door.

Hector pulled open the heavy security door, stepped in, turned the knob to the front door and looked down at me.

“No. Es mi mamá’s.”

Blooming heck!

His mother’s?

Someone, please tell me Hector didn’t live with his mother.

He pulled me to him, put his hand to the small of my back and guided me into the house. Once in, he shut the door, took my hand and we walked into the living room.

I came to a dead halt at what I saw.

Eddie was there with Jet. Indy was there with Lee. Big crazy guy Tex was there with some pretty, older, blonde lady. Lastly a short, round, Mexican-American woman was laughing with the pretty, older, blonde lady.

They all turned to me. I prepared to turn and run.

Hector felt it, dropped my hand, his arm went around my shoulders and he pulled me tight to his side.

Now would someone please tell me that, on our very first date, Hector didn’t bring me to a dinner party at his mother’s house?

“This is Sadie,” Hector told the room.

Yes, Hector brought me to a dinner party at his mother’s house.

Then the night, already bizarre in the extreme, got more bizarre.

The short, round, Mexican-American woman (who I was assuming was Hector’s mother), walked up to me. She stopped right in front of me, her eyes sharp on my face. I felt the Ice Princess arrive back from vacation and start to slide in place but something made me push her out and send her packing again.

“Hello,” I said softly.

Then, no kidding, I watched in fascination as tears filled the woman’s eyes.

Yes, actual tears.

Her hand came up, started toward my scarred cheek, I pulled in my breath, the hand halted then dropped.

She sucked in her lips and I saw her biting them, tears still shining in her eyes, she reached out and wrapped her little hand around my casted arm. She held it in front of her, her head tilted down, I couldn’t see but I could tell she was looking at my wrist.

I leaned a bit forward and asked softly, “Excuse me, but are you all right?”

Her head came up and she dropped my arm. “You look like a fairy princess,” she whispered in a croaky voice.

I’d heard that before and I still didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t get the chance to say anything.

“Who would hurt a fairy princess?” she asked me as one tear slid down her cheek.

My body jerked then went solid and, belatedly cluing in after being made fuzzy by the beginning of my crazy date with Hector, I realized she knew I’d been raped.

Instead of this making me panicked or embarrassed or angry at Hector (or Lee or Indy or Tex or Jet or whoever) for telling her, I leaned even closer to her.

“Mrs. Chavez,” I said gently but she wasn’t looking at me anymore, her eyes sliced to Hector and she started yelling at him in rapid-fire Spanish.

Yes, yelling. And, yes, in Spanish.

I tried to take a step back because, well, she kind of scared me but Hector still had a tight hold on me.

Then she started waving her arms around and she spun, stalked up to Eddie, got in his face and started yelling at him still in Spanish.

Then she turned to Lee, wagging her finger at him and then she yelled at him (in Spanish).

“Mamá,” Hector said low, cutting into her tirade.

She spun around from wagging her finger at Lee and glared at Hector.

“Cómo?” she snapped.

“Sadie’s hungry,” Hector told his mother, throwing me right under the bus.

“No!” I cried instantly. “No, really, carry on, um… yelling at people. It’s your house. Do whatever you want. I’m good. I’m not hungry at all.”

She pointed at me and I could tell just by looking at her I was in trouble.

“You! Too skinny!” she declared, jabbing her finger at me. “We eat. Mi hijo likes curves. Any real man likes curves. We gotta work on your curves!” Then she stomped out of the room and within moments we heard pans crashing and other various extremely loud kitchen noises.

I scanned the room and everyone was smiling at me, Indy and Jet were both even giggling a little. I didn’t think there was anything to giggle about.

I looked up at Hector and glared. He was looking down at me and grinning.

He dipped his face close to mine and whispered, “She likes you.”

Blooming heck.

* * * * *

I got through the dinner at Hector’s mother’s house (her name, by the way, was Blanca and the pretty, older, blonde lady was Nancy, Tex’s girlfriend and Jet’s Mom) with only a few uncomfortable incidents.

* * * * *

First, after we all sat down and passed around Blanca’s delicious food and everyone had started eating, Blanca threw her napkin down, stomped to me and snatched my plate right out from under my raised fork. She then stormed around the table, stopping at each platter full of food and mounding more and more on my plate. Then she stalked back to me and dropped my plate in front of me with a curt, “Too skinny!”