Page 72 of Paco
“Oh, honey. Let’s not talk about it. You’ll be home soon. I left your room just like you had it. I never gave up hope.”
“Has anyone threatened you or been around the house?”
“No. I think this guy was lying to you. That’s what Peter thinks too. He used the love you have for your family to play mind games with you.”
“I don’t think so. Just be careful. Have you called the police?”
“Yes. They want to talk to you when you come home. Guess who’s here? Aunt Sandy. She wants to talk to you.”
Some shuffling sounds on the other end and then “Chelsea?”
“Hi, Aunt Sandy.”
“It’s so good to hear your voice. I couldn’t believe it when your mother told me you were safe. After all these years, you’re alive and safe.”
“Yeah. Are you still with Uncle Dave?”
“Yes. He’s here too. Hang on.”
Paco came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his trim waist and a few drops of water from his wet hair trailing down his chest. He smiled at her as he opened the top drawer and took out a pair of boxers.
“Chelsea? How’re you doing, kid?”
“I’m okay, Uncle Dave.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re planning a big barbecue for when you get here.”
“In the middle of winter?” She laughed.
“I’ll grill the fucking steaks in twenty below if I have to. We’re giving you a barbecue. You still like ribs, right?”
Tears filled her eyes as memories of family gatherings punched their way through the dark shadows of her mind. As if sensing her discomfort, Paco came over and tugged her against his warm body. He brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck gently. “You’re okay.”
Nodding, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I still love ribs,” she said.
“Where’re you staying?”
“With a friend?”
“Are you in Ohio?”
“I have to go. Can you put Mom back on the phone? I’ll see you and Aunt Sandy in a few days.”
“Peter wants to talk to you.”
“I’d rather not. Please put Mom back on the phone.”
After she said her goodbyes, she put the phone down on the windowsill. Tremors invaded her and Paco guided her over to the chair, sank into it, and settled her on his lap. His arms cocooned around her, and all the emotions, the shame, the anxiety melted away in his embrace.
After several minutes, he rubbed her back in slow, soothing movements. “Your whole family’s waiting for you. You’ll get a hell of a homecoming.”
She wiped her nose. “Yeah. I have a ton of cousins. My mom was the oldest of seven, and my dad the youngest of five. My aunt Sandy and uncle Dave are closer to my age than they are to my mom’s. My aunt is the youngest.” She softly tugged the hairs on his forearm, smiling when his skin pebbled. “I don’t know if I can handle all this. I mean, they’re expecting me to be the me from before, but I’m not.”
“I’m not gonna lie to you—it’ll be hard. When I got back from my final tour, I’d been through so much that I felt like a fish out of water. No one got me. They were all the same and I was fucking different. The old me had died when I killed a group of kids and their mothers. Even though the women had bombs strapped to them and used the kids as human shields, it still hit me hard. It’s gonna be like that for you. You’re going to be changed, but no one else will be. They’ll expect you to act and do the same things you did before you disappeared, and it’s gonna fucking suck.”
