“Tatie, honey, what’d I say?” Buck asked gently, and she grinned at him.
“Yeah, you said that, but this isn’t here just to be here.” She threw her arm out to the vehicle. “I know what this is.” Then she launched herself at her father, jumping up, throwing her arms around his shoulders and giving him a big hug. “I soooooo knew you wouldn’t make me wait!” she shouted and then giggled.
She was cute when she was excited, smiling and giggling. Although I had a feeling this wasn’t what it seemed to be, not for Tatiana, I thought vaguely she should be that way more often.
Buck set her away from him and repeated, again gently, “Tatiana, what’d I say?”
Her head tilted to the side, and it took a minute, but slowly the smile faded away.
Buck went on, “You smashed up the ride I gave you for your birthday within three days, and since, you got two tickets joyridin’ in Gear’s.”
Really?
He hadn’t shared any of this with me.
“I told you,” Buck continued. “You weren’t gettin’ another car until you could control your shit. And, honey,” he put his hand on the side of her neck, “sorry, but I meant it.” His voice gentled even further when he shared, “That ride’s Clara’s.”
Uh-oh.
Gear’s eyes came to me.
I felt Mrs. Jimenez’s eyes on me.
Buck’s eyes stayed on his daughter.
But Tatiana’s eyes also turned to me.
“Clara’s?” she whispered.
Oh dear.
She jumped back a step, her arms curled up, tight at her sides, her hands clenched into fists under her shoulders. She leaned into her father, face going red, and screeched, “Clara’s?”
“Tatie,” Buck said softly.
“Fuck you!” she shrieked.
Buck’s body went solid, and Gear was on the move toward his sister.
“Aiy, Dios mio,” Mrs. Jimenez whispered.
“Tat, stay cool,” Gear urged, putting a hand on her arm.
But she shook it free and jumped back again, her eyes coming to me.
“And fuck you! Fuck you, Clara! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck…you!”
Then she raced into the house, Buck and Gear following her.
I licked my lips, pulled them between my teeth and bit them.
I then looked down at Mrs. Jimenez, who still had a hand on my arm, and let my lips go to say, “As you know, Tatiana isn’t my biggest fan yet.”
Yes, I’d shared about Tatie.
We talked every day, but also, I did it to prepare her for what she might face if Tatiana wasn’t in the mood to be cool that night.
“This I can see,” Mrs. Jimenez muttered, her eyes going to the house in time to see Tatiana racing out again.
“Tat! Jesus!” Gear raced after her. “Give me my fuckin’ keys!”
My body jolted.
So did Mrs. Jimenez’s.
Oh no!
Buck came out last.
“Tatiana, swear to Christ, you get behind the wheel of your brother’s car pissed—” Buck started.
But he didn’t finish because Tatiana got behind the wheel of her brother’s car pissed. She locked the door. Gear banged on the roof, shouting expletives, but she fired up the engine, and with gravel spewing from the back tires, she sped down the drive.
“Take the Charger,” Buck gritted. Reaching into his jeans’ pocket, he pulled out some keys and tossed them to Gear, who caught them. “Track her, calm her ass down and bring her back. You leave one of the cars. She’s not drivin’. We’ll go pick it up wherever you leave it tomorrow.”
“She fucks up my car, I’ll break her fuckin’ neck,” Gear threatened, stalking to the turquoise car.
“Cool it. Track her, get her ass home,” Buck returned.
Gear nodded, folded into the Charger and took off.
Mrs. Jimenez and I stared after Gear.
Then, in unison, our heads swung to Buck.
“Enchiladas are off,” he bit out.
“Sí,” Mrs. Jimenez agreed, and she didn’t shrink back like I did when Buck prowled to us.
He pulled his wallet out, flipped it open, yanked out some bills, lifted my hand using my wrist and slapped them in my palm.
“Take her out to eat, take her home,” he ordered, replacing his wallet but slapping the keyfob to the SUV on the money in my palm then curling my fingers around it all.
“What…?” I swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
“Have a fuckin’ beer, a shot of tequila, and keep on havin’ ’em so I won’t hop on my bike, hunt down my daughter and rip her a new asshole,” Buck snarled.
Oh dear.
Though, I figured the translation of that was: I’m going to stay home so I’ll be here when my daughter gets back so we can talk this out, Biker Dad and Biker Babe Daughter style. In the meantime, just be home should the police call or come around because my daughter was arrested for excessive speeding, or erratic driving, or something worse happening.
My stomach clutched at that last thought.
“That sounds like a good plan,” I whispered, thinking it did for Buck, but when she got home (hopefully safe), it wouldn’t be fun for Tatie.