Re: Visiting the Hospital
He almost told them, huh? 'Bout Joey, 'bout her black hair and her dark skin and how his hermanas and sobrinos woulda looked at her with some head shaking and some clucking, 'cause there was no way people were gonna think that baby was anything but Spanish, somewhere. He almost told 'em they'da put a lotta hope on her coming out milk-pallid, getting somea her ma's good genes—light eyes, blonde hair, skin so pale you could almost see through it. But, nonea them woulda gotten it, huh? Looking at them all, all blue eyes looking back at him, all of them as translucent as wax paper, veins visible like small rivers purpling, and every last onea them some kinda European something, British, Scottish, French, whatever.
Maybe they woulda gotten him feeling some way 'bout Neil, maybe not. But, it wasn't 'bout what Joey looked like, that. That was about custody and making sure the singao couldn't come back in when he got his head outta his ass (if ever) and take Cris' kid from him. It was about keeping that kinda presence outta Sam's life and Joey's, somebody who came and went and didn't give a fuck either way. He was still working on it, finding Neil, but now—now he didn't think he'd hafta and that was a relief greater than he realized.
He almost told 'em, but he didn't. They wouldn't get it and they wouldn't really care, so what did it matter?
Cris smiled taking the food and he was about to start leading them all up when Sam said she wanted to sit more. He stopped, his gaze black on the gringa as she looked up to him. He couldn't tell from her face if she wanted to be alone, if she just didn't wanna see Joey or what it was that kept her there, so he turned back, handing the plastic sack off to whoever was closest—Lou or Iris, and he bent toward Sam, as if to give her a kiss (in the ear that wasn't by Daniel, huh?), and he asked her quiet, hardly anything more than a movementa lips to her ear, "¿Estás bien?" Cris didn't care 'bout showing intimacy in fronta other people and he didn't care if they watched or looked away uncomfortable. He touched fingers to her chin, thumb to her lip to tip her face to his, so he could survey her expression. "¿Quieres que me quede aquí afuera contigo, mami, o me vaya?" He reached into his back pocket for a clove and held it between them, smelling rich and he tapped her lip with the enda it, where his thumb had left off.