Sleeping with Beauty (Seven Ways to Sin 2)

There wasn’t anger in his voice, just sadness and frustration. What he said could have been said by anyone from the team. I was sure that was how they all felt: wanting to protect me, but in doing so, they were suffocating me.

“That’s how my friends in Iceland feel,” I said.

He scoffed at that. “Doesn’t sound like they were interested in protecting you if they ran away to Iceland with you—sounds dangerous. Sounds like the opposite of protection.”

I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to argue with him. Sometimes when you cast too much light on what’s close by, you miss the bigger picture.

My mother was not as calm as my father had been in the car. When I came through the front door, I was given a big hug and loads of kisses. Then we went to the kitchen for some tea, and I was given a big lecture and loads of admonishment. At least we had the good sense to have our argument where there were plenty of knives within reach.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, “Noah and Ben were with you, weren’t they?”

“And Trevor,” I said, hoping his good reputation would put her at ease a bit. But that didn’t work.

“I knew it. Noah and Ben up and jet off for Europe without a moment’s notice at the same time you go missing.”

“I didn’t go missing, Mom.”

“We didn’t know where you were! That’s missing.”

I bit my tongue. Best let the storm run its course.

“Did you know Noah told his parents he was in Spain? That wasn’t true, was it? So, on top of everything, you’re making your friends lie for you.”

“I didn’t make anyone do anything.”

“We thought you might have gone and eloped with Noah.” Mom laughed at this.

Guillermo, who had been watching from the doorway, laughed, too.

“Why would we elope?” I asked. “If we wanted to get married, wouldn’t we get married here? You wouldn’t be opposed to Noah and me getting married, would you?”

My mom nearly dropped her cup of tea; Guillermo dropped his jaw. “You mean,” she started but couldn’t put her words together.

“Wait a second.” Guillermo entered the kitchen and came right at me, and I thought he was going to drop me like one of his kickboxing opponents. “You mean, you and Noah—”

I threw my hands in the air. “I’m just saying, we wouldn’t elope, that’s all.”

“But you and Noah are a thing?” asked Guillermo, his voice at a near shout. “How long has this been going on?”

I was trapped: behind me, a wall; to my left, another wall; to my right, Guillermo blocking the exit; in front of me, my mom with arms crossed and a scowl stamped on her face.

“We’re not a thing,” I said. “Everybody, just take a deep breath.”

“If you’re not a thing,” said Guillermo accusingly, “then why the hell would he fly off to Iceland with you on the drop of a hat?”

“Firstly,” I said, “we didn’t fly. We took a yacht. And no hats were being dropped.”

“I’m going to kill Noah.” Guillermo pointed a finger at me. “You, however, are my sister”—he motioned to Mom with his thumb—“I’ll let Mom kill you.” He stormed out of the kitchen.

Mom and I stared at each other for a good while. I had rehearsed plenty of lines: Look, Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore; I’m a young woman: free and independent. or I’m sorry I worried you, but I had to go. It was important to me. That was my decision, and I’m old enough to make decisions for myself. And while those lines seemed irrefutable days ago when I was alone in a cabin on a yacht, here in the kitchen with my mother scowling at me, I just kept my mouth shut.

“I’m too angry to talk right now,” she said. “I’m glad you’re home, honey. We’ll talk about this later.”

Oh, no, you’re not! You’re not going to hold this over me like a threat.

“Say what you need to say, Mom. I’m not going to want to argue about this later. It’s now or never.”

She uncrossed her arms and set them angrily on her haunches. “Bonita Rose Morales, you are going to tell your own mother what she can say and when she can say? And in her own house!”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Mom. What I mean is that this has to stop. I’m going to make decisions you’re not going to be happy with. But they’re my decisions. We can’t go on arguing over them every time.”

We stared at each other a good while longer. Guillermo came back, took one look at us and left.

My mom rarely stayed silent for this long. I felt that she was silent because she had expected this conversation to go much differently. I had gained the upper hand. I decided to get it all out there. “I made several decisions you won’t be happy with while I was in Iceland.”