Sonnet survived the shift by drinking more Diet Coke than she’d consumed in the last year alone. Well, at least if she had a heart attack, she’d be in the right place, and could die happy knowing she’d taken the MCAT.
She passed Tiago in the hall a few times, and confirmed he and Trey were coming over for Thanksgiving. From what little she’d gleaned, Tiago was estranged from his letter-of the-law religious parents because they couldn’t accept him. She never understood that reptilian brain rationale; family was family. Anyone would be lucky as hell to have Tiago as an in-law. He certainly felt like family to her.
It felt good to have friends she truly loved coming over, especially with it being the first Thanksgiving without Papi.
Dr. MacIntyre wasn’t at the hospital during her shift, which was a good thing because she’d spend her workday obsessed about whether or not he knew if she passed the exam.
Janelle stared each time Sonnet passed the nurses’ station. She almost demanded to know what the woman’s problem was, but it wasn’t worth engaging her.
When it was time to go, she met Griffith at the security desk. The dark circles beneath his eyes matched hers. She now understood why she’d thought him arrogant when they first met; he’d forced himself to stay awake, and it gave him a more serious veneer.
She fell asleep in the car on the way home. When the car stopped in the driveway, he roused her with a gentle stroke of his knuckles against her shoulder.
“Sonnet? Wake up, we’re home.” She nodded groggily, then braced herself against the chill of the morning and went in. She crashed onto her bed dressed in her scrubs, too tired to change or even brush her teeth. Before she fell off, selfishly she wished Griff was sleeping next to her again.
Her sleep came in fits and turned into a nightmare about being attacked in the parking lot. But this time Griff wasn’t there, and her attacker didn’t stop. She bolted up in bed, sweating and shaking, and her alarm went off a second later.
Thanksgiving Day.
She got out of bed with jittery nerves, and went into the bathroom, where she changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and splashed some water on her face. She couldn’t shake off the bad dream and her stomach swirled.
She walked barefoot into the kitchen and put the turkey in the oven, then reset her cell alarm for three hours’ time. The pre-cooked bird could roast while she got caught up on sleep.
The blue light of the security system glowed by the door, and the house was silent. Griff had the day off, and if he had any common sense, he’d be in a dead sleep. She passed his bedroom door, which was cracked open, and she pushed it a little to peek in.
He lay on his back, shirtless and covered from the waist down. His left foot dangled off the bed. His muscular arms stretched above his head on the pillow, and he was out of it.
Sonnet folded her arms, and contemplated the carpet. She should go back to her room. But the dream shook her to the core, and she didn’t want to be alone. Griff made her feel safe. She approached the bed with caution, and hoped he wasn’t one of those military guys who woke and put a knife to someone’s throat if they were startled. She slipped into bed beside him, and inched closer. She laid her cheek on his chest, and cuddled into him. The soft cotton of his boxers rubbed against her midriff.
She closed her eyes and nestled into his warmth.
He stirred beneath her. “Sonnet?” His voice was gruff from sleep.
“Yeah…I had a bad dream. Is this okay?”
His arm draped over her back, and he held her close. “Of course it’s okay. Are you kidding me?” He twined his legs with hers, and stroked her back. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I will be. I just need to be by you.”
He stroked her hair with his other hand, and his lips grazed her forehead. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”
She burrowed closer into him. As her eyes drifted shut, she knew she’d never have this with another man. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke, she lay face down on his pillow, alone, and hugged it as she’d hugged him.
The imprint of his body was still warm beneath her. She moved hair out of her face, checked the time, and realized she’d overslept. Damn it. The turkey.
“Mierda.” She threw back the covers, jumped out of bed, and scurried to the kitchen. A sweet, savory aroma filled the house, and her mouth watered. The window was cracked open, and the radio played in the background.
Griff stood at the kitchen counter in dark jeans and a nice charcoal gray top he’d bought a couple days ago. He looked over his shoulder. “Hey. Turkey’s fine. I just checked it and poured some of the juice from the pan on it. It’s almost done. The ribs are cooking outside.”
She ran a hand through her hair as she moved into the room. “Wow. Thanks for letting me sleep.”
He grinned. “No problem. You needed it. Tiago and Trey called on the landline. They’ll be here in under an hour, if you want to get ready. I’ve got the food, and the table’s set.”
Sonnet let out a sigh of relief, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Griff.”
She showered and put on a soft purple shirt and a black skirt. She took her time with her makeup and let her hair loose the way she knew Griff liked it.
Michelle and Gina were bringing some side dishes, the guys were tasked with bringing the pies, and she and Griffith handled the rest. He kneaded the dough for the rolls and peeled and cut up the potatoes for mashing. She and Papi always added an Argentinean flavor to Thanksgiving, and she had some delicious empanadas prepared to go along with the turkey.
“Reminds me of KP duty in basic training,” Griff joked, as he peeled a potato. “It was either sweep and mop the floor, refill the milk dispensers, pots and pans, or if you were really lucky, potatoes.”
“Which one did you hate the most?”
He cut a peeled spud, and slid the diced bits into her steamer on the stove. “My lips are sealed.”
“I’ll need a security clearance to pry them open, then?”
“Or other methods.”
The doorbell rang, saving her thoughts from wandering down the “other methods” road.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get it.”
“Okay.” She dumped the contents of the stuffing packet into a large pot with boiled water, and Trey’s and Tiago’s infectious laughter floated in from the other room as they said hello to Gina and Michelle, who had just arrived.
“Hey, guys,” she hollered as she stirred the stuffing.
“’Sup, Sonnet?” Trey slunk into the room with a pie in each hand. “The pies have arrived. Everyone wants to be me right now with all this delicious goodness.”
“Hey, I’m not about to argue with that,” Gina said, setting down two Tupperware containers, one with garrapiñadas, and one with tortilla chips and homemade guacamole. “Here’s the snackage. Michelle brought the steamed vegetables. Happy Thanksgiving, girl.”
Sonnet hugged Gina and Michelle. “Happy Thanksgiving. Te amo, mis hermanas.”
“Te amo. Mami says you owe her two visits now, since you took a rain check. She understands, though. She made the guac.”
“I can’t wait to try it.”
“Any news?”
“Too soon.” Sonnet zeroed in on a chocolate pie amid the spread of food on the counter. “That looks amazing, Trey.”
“Chocolate silk. Named after me. We know what to do.” Trey checked out the kitchen while she placed the pies next to the cutting board. “Nice crib you got here.”
“Grab a beer from the fridge, and go make yourselves at home. Food will be done in about twenty minutes.”
“You want some help?” Michelle asked.
“Nah, it’s pretty much done, just needs serving when it’s time. Griff’s got some ribs on the grill out back. I’ll join you in a second.”
Sonnet washed her hands, mashed the potatoes, and joined her guests in the living room. They were gathered beneath Griff’s pull-up bar.
She wiped her hands on a clean dishtowel. “It’s almost done. What are you guys doing?”
“Checking out G’s Batman bar,” Trey said. “What do you do to get up there, man, fly? I’d need a chair. Or a damn teleportation device.”
“Jump,” Griff replied. They’d downed a few beers, and his voice held a hint of amusement. “You just jump and do pull-ups.”
Trey jumped and tried, but grazed his hand against the bar. “Man, that’s high. Get up there and show us how you do it.”
Griff shook his head. “I’m not really into showing off.”
“No, come on, G. I gotta see this. Freaking Stretch Armstrong.”
“Yeah, show us how it’s done,” Tiago taunted. “Grif-fith, Grif-fith…”
Trey and the girls joined in the chant. Griff sighed, then peeled off his shirt and threw it to Sonnet.
Gina giggled, and faked a cough to cover it. “Excuse me. It just got hot in here. Seriously, Sonnet, how do you cope with all this blistering heat?”
Trey let out a wolf whistle. “There we go, take it off, man. What do you do, photo-shop your abs on? Damn.”
Griff rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. The shirt’s new, and I don’t want to get sweat on it. But thanks for the compliment.” He jumped up, grabbed the bar, and started doing pull-ups.
Michelle snickered, and whispered in Sonnet’s ear, “Admit you love this. Look at him. You’re enjoying this.”
Sonnet gawked, her mouth agape, and whispered, “I am not.” But she cuddled Griff’s shirt a little closer to her breast, and watched the curvature of his back and shoulder muscles as he lifted.
“Oh, I know I am.” Gina fanned herself.
“Am what?” Griff grunted as he did another pull-up.
“Nothing man.” Tiago laughed. “You just keep doing what you’re doing. Oh yeah… Getchya some.”
After the tenth pull-up, Griff apparently had enough, and dropped to his feet to rowdy applause. Sonnet met his eyes as he approached her and held his hand out for his shirt. Beads of sweat dotted his chest, and she followed one that trickled to his nipple.
“You gonna stare at his eight pack all day, or give the brother his shirt back?” Tiago joked.
She batted his arm and gave him a death glare. “Cállate, Tiago.”
Trey and Tiago laughed, but Griff had the good sense to keep quiet as he took the shirt from her hand.
“I should go clean up,” he murmured. His finger grazed hers, and he raised an eyebrow, desire plain on his face. She turned tail and vamoosed into the kitchen, her girlfriends hot on her heels.
Gina held up a palm. “Well this explains why you’ve been spending so much time at home and work.”
Sonnet busied herself, turning off the oven and moving the food to the cutting boards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Michelle grabbed a tortilla chip from the wooden bowl on the counter, and dipped it in the guacamole. “Girl, you couldn’t tear me away from this place. That man is an Adonis. Damn.”
Sonnet bit her lip as she stirred the stuffing with a wooden spoon. She glanced at the door to the kitchen. The men were still in the living room. “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Gina and Michelle’s ears perked up, and they came closer.
Sonnet picked up a large plate and a barbecue spatula. “I’ve got to get the ribs. Come outside with me for a sec.”
While she scooped the ribs and loaded them on the plate for dishing out, she gave her friends the CliffsNotes version of what happened the night in the parking lot. She kept it together, but when she remembered how Griff had risked his life for her, tears sprung to her eyes.
“He saved me,” she concluded, keeping her voice low. Gina had a hand over her mouth with tears in her eyes, and Michelle kept shaking her head. “I could have been raped, but he got there and took that asshole down. He never asked for a thing in return, and I—”
Her friends moved forward and embraced her. Sonnet set the plate down on the patio table and hugged them back. They showed the same love and support they’d given her when Papi died.
“Are you okay?” Gina whispered in her ear.
“Seriously, do you need anything?” Michelle asked.
They parted, and Sonnet wiped the corner of her eyes, careful of her mascara. “I’m fine. I’m better than okay, now that he’s here. I couldn’t sleep after it happened. I feel safe now. And I’m seeing a counselor to follow-up.”
Gina put a hand to Sonnet’s cheek. “Well, we’re here whenever you need us, girl. And if you ever get with Griffith, he’s got our blessing a thousand times over.”
Sonnet held her friends’ hands, and thanked them. She could have spent a quiet Thanksgiving alone as a start of her new life, but the love of friends and family was always so much stronger than going it alone.
Her friends helped her dish out their feast, and she sat at the dinner table with a thankful heart.
Her first Thanksgiving without Papi turned out a lot warmer and more familial than she expected. Gina and Michelle treated Griff with more consideration than before, getting him a drink and buttering his roll. He’d changed into a fresh shirt, and he seemed amused by the extra attention, but Sonnet was pleased they now saw what she saw. It had been a relief to share what had happened.
Conversation and laughter were never in short supply with Tiago and Trey around, and they gelled with her friends. After an all-inclusive blessing, Trey and Tiago launched into twenty questions with Griffith about his future as a cop.
Tiago reached for a roll. “So, say one of your buddies pulls me and T over. Can you get us out of speeding tickets and shit?”
“No,” Griffith said firmly. “Though if it’s me who pulls you over, I may let you go.” His voice lightened, and he took on the light baritone of a mafia boss. “But someday—and that day may never come—I’ll call upon you to do a service for me.” Trey and Sonnet laughed, and Tiago covered his mouth.
“No way, you sound just like the dude from The Godfather.”
“Griffith does impressions.” Sonnet lifted her drink and met the warmth in Griff’s eyes above the brim of her glass.
Michelle shook her head. “That’s incredible. Do another one.”
They spent the next half hour in stitches as Griff did a range of voices, from cartoon characters to action heroes. Sonnet watched the transformation in Trey’s and Tiago’s expressions. Griff had that effect on people when they got to know him, and it moved her to witness it happen to another person.
She sipped her drink. What had life been like for Griff as a kid? He’d hinted his talent at impressions came from spending most of his childhood not talking, but listening to people and television.
How deep did his wounds run?
* * * *
Her friends had moved into the living room to drink, munch, and watch the game. Sonnet stood at the sink, scrubbing a plate beneath the tap, when familiar long arms wound around her and drew her into a hug from behind. Griff rested his chin on top of her head. “Thank you.”
She nuzzled her head and body back against him since her hands were busy. “You’re welcome. For what?”
His lips pressed against her hair. “Just…thank you.” His hand slid down her arm, and he entwined his fingers with hers. The soap bubbles from the sponge covered both their hands, and he caressed her palm. Dirty dishes were the least sexy things on the face of the planet, but a nice buzz filled her as she leaned back in his arms, their finger slipping against one another, a beautiful swirl of tawny and pale white.
“I’ll finish the dishes,” he whispered, “if you want to go join the others.” His lips tickled her earlobe, and she closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.
“Are you sure? I can stay with you. There’s a lot to do.”
He slid his fingers along hers, and pressed his body closer. “There is a lot to do, but I’m sure. Go spend time with your friends. You deserve a break.”
Sonnet gave it another moment simply so she could feel his warmth, then she rinsed off her hand, dried up, turned, kissed him on the cheek, then went into the living room.
Gina and Michelle left when the game ended, and they made plans to go dancing on Saturday. As the guys got ready to leave, Trey had a funny story he wanted to share about the antics of health care workers. He brought out two papers he’d printed out and handed them to her, but one of the papers slid through his hands and under the couch. “Oh, crap.”
Sonnet’s eyes widened as she remembered her abandoned, hard little friend in its secret box—oh God, she’d completely forgotten it. How could she have been so stupid? She dove to get the paper. “No, I’ll g—” She collided heads with Trey, sat back, and rubbed her temple. “Sorry, I—”
“No, it’s cool, I’ve got it.” He felt beneath the sofa, frowned, and slid out the paper, then the box.
“That’s mine,” she said testily, and tried to reach it.
“Trey, pass it to me.” Tiago held out his hand. “I grew up with five sisters, and homegirl freaking out here can only mean one thing.”
Trey shrugged and handed it to him, indifferent. “What is it?”
“Yeah, Sonnet, what is it?” Tiago shook the box near his ear. The dildo rattled inside so loud he might as well have put a megaphone next it. “Could it be an early Christmas present?”
“Give it to me,” she growled. She glanced behind her to the kitchen, but saw no sign of Griff. “Tiago, I mean it.”
He jumped on the sofa and clicked open the metal latch as she tried to yank it away. “Tsk tsk tsk, Sonnet Mendoza, you naughty girl.” He cackled as he opened it and took out the dildo.
Trey snorted beside her.
“Give it back,” she urged. “It’s mine.”
“Oh, I know it’s yours. And I’m sure there’s quite a story behind it.”
Sonnet turned beet red. She lowered her voice so Griff wouldn’t hear. “Please, this is embarrassing.”
Tiago hopped off the sofa. “Oh no, no, no, chica. We’re naming this bad boy. Fix-it Felix.” They laughed at her.
Sonnet palmed her face. “Oh Dios mío. You guys, just shh, keep it down, okay?” Her eyes darted to the kitchen, where the clack of cupboards closing meant Griff was still in there.
Tiago’s eyes sparkled, and Trey waved the dildo in front of her. “Felix wants to play, Sonnet.”
She tried to grab it, but he yanked it out of her reach.
“Who’s Felix?” Griff came out of the kitchen with a slight glower, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.
“Sonnet’s boyfriend.” Tiago batted his eyelashes. Griffith visibly tensed.
“Ex-boyfriend.” Sonnet stepped in front of Tiago to intercept. She tried to cover Tiago’s body with hers. “He’s ancient history. It didn’t work out because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. You know how it goes. We had issues.” She elbowed Tiago in the gut. He lifted his arm above her.
Griff’s eyebrows lifted. “Is tha—”
“Hey, Griff, we were just showing Sonnet our new dildo.” Tiago waved it in the air. Trey tried not to crack up. Sonnet pinched the bridge of her nose, and wanted to die. These guys.
“Oh.” Griff looked at them like they were all nuts. “That’s…cool. I’m uh, gonna go get some more beer. Anyone want one? Sonnet?”
“Grab me one,” she begged. “No, grab me two. Make it dirty.”
Tiago chuckled. “Yeah, Sonnet likes it dirty. I’m kidding, man. Chill. None for us, thanks. We’re about to take off to go to Trey’s family’s house. But thanks for having us over. This has been beyond entertaining.” Tiago closed the dildo in the box. “And we’re gonna take this home to play with.”
“Works for me.” Trey picked the paper off the floor, and put on his jacket.
Griffith scratched his ear. “Right. Well, good to see you guys outside of work, though I guess we’ll see you again Monday night. Thanks for coming over. Enjoy your…toy. I’ll um, get you a beer, Sonnet.” He knitted his eyebrows and shook his head as he left the room.
“Later, man,” Tiago laughed.
Sonnet dead-armed him when Griffith rounded the corner. “Jackass,” she hissed, her temper flaring. “Imbécil. ¿Como pudiste?”
“What?” He bobbed and weaved her attempted jabs. “He thinks it’s ours, anyway. Don’t get into a hissy fit.”
“What are you talking about, dawg? It is ours,” Trey chimed in. He stroked the closed box like an affectionate pet owner. “Come on, Fix-it Felix. Let’s take you somewhere where you can be appreciated and loved.”
She scowled but hugged them both, and saw them off at the door, dildo and all. “I can’t believe you’re going to take it, Tiago.”
“Don’t get so bent out of shape, chica. Besides,” He leaned in close. “You don’t need it anymore. You’ve got the real deal right there in the other room.”