THEY TOLD HIM WHAT TO LISTEN FOR AND when to call them. They gave him their personal phone numbers with instructions to contact them day or night if he had something useful. Flip did not call for three weeks.
On most weekdays he worked in the warehouse and things were good. He got his first paycheck and repaid his mother for the shoes with enough money left over to open a checking account. He made arrangements with Alfredo for his check to be direct-deposited.
On weekends he saw Graciela. She was close to finishing her time at the cosmetology school and she told him stories about all the job opportunities there were in the nail business and how she’d be able to save up fast for her own place. Her nail salon would be in Segundo Barrio “for all the local girls,” and she would be able to walk to work. She even had the spot picked out: an empty space in a little strip mall next to a liquor store.
Flip and Graciela made love in the back of her Hyundai at the end of a dead-end street near the cosmetology school. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but when Flip was with her he didn’t mind the difficulty. He asked her when he could go to her place or meet her folks. She always said “soon.”
They went twice to the club and danced. Graciela got to mingle with her girlfriends and Flip spent time talking with Emilio. Flip did not think they were friends, but they were close enough to talk frankly and that was close enough for him.
“You see that girl?” Emilio said one night. He pointed to a slightly chunky girl in a tight dress with a wide bottom. She danced with the enthusiasm of a much lighter girl and when she caught sight of Emilio watching, she blew him a kiss.
“I see her,” Flip said.
“I’m going to marry her.”
Emilio was six beers into his drinking, the empties on the table of their booth. Flip was closed in by a couple on his left side and pushed up close to Emilio such that he could smell the alcohol on his breath when he talked.
“Aren’t you too young to get married?” Flip asked.
“I’m twenty-four,” Emilio said. “That’s plenty old.”
“I guess so. Does she want to get married?”
“You kidding? That’s all she ever wants to talk about. When am I going to get her a ring? How big is the ring going to be? And all that. We could get married tomorrow and she would be thrilled.”
Flip looked around for Graciela, but he didn’t see her. He wondered if she’d retreated to the VIP room where José held court and brushed away the twinge of jealousy that gave him. “Graciela never talks about that,” he said.
“She’s in no hurry to settle down,” Emilio said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she likes to party. Know what I mean?”
“No, I don’t know what you mean.”
Emilio waved Flip away. “Alicia likes to party, too, but she’s been looking for a husband all her life. Suits me fine. If I say I’m going to marry her, she lets me get away with anything.”
Flip swallowed the question he wanted to ask. “Like what?”
“Like when I keep my weight at her place.”
“The weight you move for José?”
“Yeah. I don’t keep it at my place. I got a record and it’s the first place the cops would look. But her, she doesn’t even have a parking ticket. I move everything through her.”
“What are you going to do when you get married?”
“I guess I’ll have to keep it at my girlfriend’s place then,” Emilio said and he laughed. “Hey, tell the waitress I want another beer.”
Flip got the couple on his left to move and he slid out of the booth. He found a waitress and pointed her toward Emilio, then went back to the VIP area. Tonight there was a bouncer in place with a clipboard. He asked for Flip’s name.
“You’re not on the list,” the bouncer said.
“I know José,” Flip said. “I just want to see if my girlfriend’s back there.”
“I can’t let you go in.”
“Come on, man, I don’t want to stay. I just want to get my girlfriend.”
“You’re not getting through. Sorry.”
Flip thought about trying to rush around the man, but it was useless. He found a table near the VIP entrance and waited until a waitress came by to take his order. His shoulders felt tense and they would not relax. Graciela did not come out until three beers later and his mind was working. “Hey, Flip,” she said. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“I wish I knew. I was just talking to my girls.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Flip said.
“What? Sure.”
Flip herded her toward the exit, his hand on her elbow. They rushed through the front doors and Graciela almost tripped. “Hey, slow down,” she said.
There was a wait while the valet went to fetch her car. Flip looked back into the club. No one followed them out. “You were just talking to your girls?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“What about José?”
“I said hi to him. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ What’s wrong?”
“It’s something Emilio said.”
A dark look passed over Graciela’s face. “What did that idiota say?”
The doorman and the valets weren’t paying attention to them. Flip felt the muscle in his jaw working. “He just said some things about how you like to party.”
“Sure, I like to party. Everybody knows I like to party.”
“He said you liked to party.”
“What? Did he call me a whore?”
The doorman looked their way. Flip put himself between the man and Graciela. “He said you weren’t in no hurry to settle down.”
“That’s what he said?”
“Yeah,” Flip said and he began to feel stupid for saying anything at all.
“I’m twenty-one years old, Flip! Of course I’m not looking to settle down!”
“I just thought—”
“You thought that means I like to fuck around? I don’t believe this! Is that why you asked me about José? You think I fucked José in front of everybody, or what?”
Flip put his hands up, but he wanted to beat his own head in. “Forget I said anything. I’m being crazy.”
“There’s crazy and then there’s being a pendejo, Flip. How much did you drink tonight?”
“I’m not drunk. I’m just an asshole.”
“You got that right.”
Graciela’s car came. Everyone was staring now. Flip took the passenger seat, though he expected her to drive away without him.
She spent the drive muttering to herself and striking the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. Flip heard her say Emilio’s name more than once.
“I want to say—” Flip started.
“Don’t say nothing! You’re not talking.”
“Okay.”
“I should dump your dumb ass at your mamá’s house and say good-bye for good, you know that? After I treated you right, you listen to Emilio? Emilio is a dumbass. His girl had more boyfriends than anybody. Calling me a whore? I’m going to tear his balls off.”
“Hey—”
Graciela put up a hand. “You’re still not talking. You don’t talk ’til I say so. No, wait: you answer me something. If I’m some kind of puta, what does that make you?”
“I don’t know. Listen, I’m sorry.”
“I introduce you around, I tell you it’s okay that you were in prison and the first time someone says something bad about me, you believe it?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I don’t know if sorry’s going to cut it, Flip.”
Flip didn’t say anything. He let her drive and from time to time she took her eyes off the road to glare at him.
“I like you, Flip. I like you a lot,” she said finally.
“I like you, too.”
“Then why did you listen to Emilio? Don’t you know he’s a fool?”
“He was just saying and you weren’t around and I…” Flip didn’t know how to continue.
“It’s because I slept with you too soon,” Graciela said. “That’s the problem. Guys always think it’s because a girl’s easy. I’m not easy, Flip. I could have been with plenty of guys and I wasn’t.”
“I believe you.”
They were on Flip’s street and Graciela slowed. Flip did not want to get out of the car.
“Here’s your house,” Graciela said. They came to a stop.
“Graciela, I’m sorry,” Flip said. “I don’t want you to go away angry.”
“It’s a little late for that, Flip,” Graciela said and he heard her sadness.
“Can I kiss you at least?”
“Yeah, okay.”
He leaned over and kissed her, but didn’t pull away. Her breath feathered across his face and he thought he could see her trembling. He kissed her again, softly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.
Graciela put her hand on his cheek. Her eyes shimmered and then Flip knew for certain how much he’d hurt her. “I’m not a whore, Flip,” she said. “Don’t ever call me that again. Don’t even think it.”
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say ‘I’m sorry’ again. I know you’re sorry.” Her eyes over-filled and tears trickled down. She blinked hard to make them go away, but they came on anyway and her mascara started to streak.
“What can I do?” Flip asked.
“Wait a few days. Call me. Take me out somewhere. Treat me good.”
“I can do that.”
“You don’t know how much I like you, Flip.”
“Graciela—”
“Go. Get out. Go home.” Graciela took up her purse and looked in it for a tissue. She used it to dab at her eyes, but the damage was done. “I said go. Remember what I told you.”
“I’ll call you.”
“Okay. Go.”
Flip got out of the car and waited while she pulled away. He watched her all the way to the end of the block until her taillights vanished around the corner. His eyes itched and he rubbed them rather than letting himself cry. He willed the tears away.
He didn’t go inside. He sat down on the front step and watched the house across the street. All the lights were off, but a flickering blue illumination in the front room was the telltale of a television. Inside his house his mother would be fast asleep. He would have to be careful not to wake her.
If he felt anything it was sadness and regret mixed together and a touch of anger. Anger with Emilio for planting the seed and anger with himself for believing it. He hadn’t known a girl like Graciela before and he didn’t know how to treat her or what to expect. It occurred to him to send her flowers. Girls liked flowers.
A car cruised by without slowing and made the same turn as Graciela had. Someone coming home late to a wife or a husband, he imagined. Maybe the kids were sleeping in their beds. He wondered what that would be like. He could not imagine.
“Graciela,” he said out loud. “Graciela, Graciela.”
He should go inside. He should go to sleep. Flip told himself this, but he stayed on the front step, anyway. He brought out his phone and dialed a number he had committed to memory.