Indy and Lee were walking in front of us; Eddie was beside me, his finger stil hooked into my belt loop.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Eddie said, apparently to Lee because Lee answered.

“Come on, tough it up. I had ten years. You’ve had, what?

Two months?”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Indy fel back a bit and into step beside me.

“What are they talking about?” I whispered to her.

“You don’t want to know,” she answered.

It was stil a coffee crush when we got to the front, but I saw Dad sitting on the back of one of the couches, eating a chocolate iced, custard fil ed donut and drinking a latte as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

The minute he saw me, he shouted, “Princess Jet!” Eddie stil had his finger in my belt loop so I couldn’t rush to Dad and warn him to flee.

Instead I just said, “Hey Dad.”

Dad looked to Eddie and saw Eddie’s hand behind my back

“Chavez, looks like you don’t let grass grow.”

“Ray,” Was Eddie’s reply.

Dad’s eyes moved to Indy and he smiled, then to Lee who’d come up with us. “Fuckin’ A.” He breathed, the smile dying out of his face and he looked almost panicked.

“You’re Lee Nightingale.”

“Yep,” Lee said.

“Fuck,” Dad said.

I found this confusing. I looked from Dad to Lee and opened my mouth to speak when the bel over the front door rang and I heard someone cal my name.

I turned and stared.

It was Oscar, my latest ex. We’d broken up about a month before Mom’s stroke. Before that, we’d been together for two years. The break up was by mutual consent (mutual in the sense that I talked Oscar into it) and we’d stayed friends. He helped move Mom and me into our new apartment. He was a good guy and, sometimes, I missed him.

Oscar was about two inches tal er than me, had warm, brown eyes, fantastic, thick, dark hair and some acne scars which, lucky for him, only served to make him look more interesting.

I turned to him as he walked to us. He looked upset.

This was not good. Oscar had a short fuse which, upset, could quickly grow into something much harder to control.

“Oscar! What are you doing here?”

“Your Mom cal ed, said some ass**le cal ed you a racist. Mamita what is that shit al about? I wanna have a word with him. Who is this f**kwad?”

What did I tel you?

My mother.

I wanted to run screaming out of the store but my belt loop was pul ed again and again my shoulder came into contact with Eddie’s chest, this time, it stayed there.

“I think I’m the f**kwad,” Eddie said.

Oscar’s eyes moved to Eddie and he saw the way we were standing. I think he misinterpreted it because his temper flared directly to the red zone.

“Get your f**kin’ hands off her!” Oscar shouted and everyone (and there were a lot of people) turned to look.

“Calm down, amigo, we’ve straightened things out,” Eddie replied.

“Oscar, it’s okay,” I said.

Oscar wasn’t listening.

“You don’t cal my woman a racist and then straighten things out. And I thought I told you to get your hands off her.”

I forgot to mention, Oscar also had a possessiveness issue. It was one of the reasons we broke up. Not to mention, his confronting Eddie was stupid, anyone could see by looking at the two of them that Eddie could wipe the floor with him. Eddie was tal er, leaner and had about a half an ounce of body fat, which was clear to see from the skintight white t-shirt he was wearing.

“Your woman?” Eddie asked, his body tensing. He looked down at me. “You seein’ this guy?”

“We broke up,” I said.

“When?” Eddie asked.

“Nine months ago.”

Eddie smiled for the first time that morning and the dimple came out. He turned back to Oscar. “I’d say she wasn’t your woman anymore.”

Oscar leaned forward and started yel ing at Eddie in Spanish and Eddie returned fire.

“Stop!” I shouted.

I’d had enough. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, my car wasn’t working, I’d had a knife to my throat and Eddie just announced that he was making me his business.

I couldn’t stand anymore.

Both men quit yel ing.

“It’s sorted out, Oscar. It was something stupid I said to make him think it in the first place. But he doesn’t think I’m a racist anymore. Just chil .”

Oscar wasn’t done being angry and he turned to me.

“You worry your mother,” he said.

Wonderful.

“Oscar, everything’s under control.”

“Bul shit, Mamita. Your Mom says—”

“Stop listening to my mother and stop interfering. I can take care of myself.”

He leaned into me. “Yeah? I don’t think so. I got two eyes in my head, don’t I? You’ve lost weight; you look run down and ready to drop. How’re you gonna take care of yourself when you’re so f**kin’ busy takin’ care of—”

“Oscar!” I shouted, “Shut up! And quit talking to my mother.”

He stared at me a beat and then was quiet. The arrow went out of the red zone and dropped down to green. Once it hit green, he looked at me with concern in his eyes.

“Jet, you need someone lookin’ out for you.”

“That would be me,” I told him.

He shook his head and sighed.

“Mi Cielo, you break my heart.”

It was then I knew we were out of danger. Oscar blew quick and blew out just as quickly.

I smiled at him, “Go get a donut.”

“Don’t have time for donuts. I’m late for work as it is.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, sent Eddie a glare and then took off.

Before I could react, Tex showed up to our little circle.

“Thank Christ for you, Loopy Loo,” He boomed, handing me a cappuccino. “Things were beginnin’ to get borin’

around here.” Then he went back behind the counter.

Everyone was staring at me, Eddie, Lee and Indy.

“Oscar’s a little over-protective,” I said to diffuse the mood.

“I’l say,” Dad chipped in.

Lee and Indy’s attention switched to Dad but Eddie kept looking at me. His eyes were active again and his hand moved from my waistband to hook an arm around my neck, curling me into him. We were nearly chest-to-chest and I had to splay my hand against his abs to push a bit away from him. His arm tightened, holding me where I was.