The First Time, Chapter 16
Title: The First Time
Rating: R
A/N: We're almost at the end here. Not quite, but almost. But first, if she wants to be with Pepa, there's someone Marta's got to get past first....
Read Chapter 1 here
Read Chapter 2 here
Read Chapter 3 here
Read Chapter 4 here
Read Chapter 5 here
Read Chapter 6 here
Read Chapter 7 here
Read Chapter 8 here
Read Chapter 9 here
Read Chapter 10 here
Read Chapter 11 here
Read Chapter 12 here
Read Chapter 13 here
Read Chapter 14 here
Read Chapter 15 here
Chapter 16
The first time Pepa introduces Marta to Don Lorenzo, she is extremely nervous.
Marta has already met the rest of the family and friends, officially as Pepa’s girlfriend. And they have all been welcoming and friendly. But Don Lorenzo, Pepa knows, is different. Even though he has now said several times that he is fine with this, Pepa is not entirely sure she should trust it.
“It’ll be fine,” Marta promises as they’re getting ready to go over to Don Lorenzo’s for lunch. “I like him at the precinct. He doesn’t take any shit. He’s got character.”
“His character is what I’m worried about,” Pepa mutters.
“What?” Marta asks, turning from the mirror where she’s been adjusting the flattering halter top she’s wearing.
“Hmmmm?” Pepa says. “Oh nothing, You look beautiful. Let’s go.”
She grabs Marta’s hand and wishes the butterflies in her stomach would quit dancing the tango.
But as the lunch progresses, and Marta and Don Lorenzo chat amicably on a number of subjects, Pepa thinks maybe her trepidation was misplaced. Don Lorenzo seems to like Marta, and when she isn’t looking, he even gives Pepa a wink. Pepa grins. It is more than she hoped for.
Just as their meal is winding down, Pepa stands up.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?”
Don Lorenzo and Marta both look up and nod, engrossed in a discussion about antique police guns (a topic that holds little interest for Pepa - as long as her trusty Magnum loads and shoots, she’s happy), and Pepa feels safe in leaving them alone. She walks down the hall to use the bathroom.
She is gone for less than five minutes, and everything looks exactly the same as it did before when she rounds the corner back into the kitchen, but there is…something. They both look up when she walks in, and Pepa looks from one to the other. Her eyes settle on Don Lorenzo. They narrow.
“What did you say to her?” she asks.
Don Lorenzo looks back at her, the picture of innocence.
“What are you talking about, Pepa?” he asks. But she knows a Castro evasion when she hears one. And this one is right up there with “You do know I don’t like girls, right?”
“Don Lorenzo…” she begins, fully intent on getting it out of him, but then thinks better of it. Her father-in-law’s stubbornness rivals anyone’s she knows, including her own. Instead, she turns to Marta.
“What did he say to you?” she demands.
Marta stands up suddenly and clears her throat. She turns to Don Lorenzo.
“Thank you so much for the lunch, Comisario. It was delicious, and it was wonderful to finally get to know you.”
Don Lorenzo stands as well.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he says, bestowing kisses on both her cheeks. Marta accepts them, and as she does, Pepa does not miss the subtle glance that passes between the two.
What the hell just happened?
But Pepa does not get a chance to interrogate either of them further because Don Lorenzo has moved on to saying goodbye to Pepa, and Marta is ushering her out the door.
As soon as it closes behind them, Pepa grabs Marta’s hand and stops her.
“Oh no you don’t,” she says. “I want to know what happened while I was in the bathroom.”
Marta shakes her grip loose and continues walking toward their car.
“You’re too paranoid, Pepa,” she says. “Nothing happened. We talked about guns.”
Pepa catches up to her, surprised as always how fast Marta moves for her stature.
“Yeah, right. I know Don Lorenzo. I knew I shouldn’t have left you two alone! What did he say to you? How mean was he?”
Marta turns and crosses her arms.
“As if I would tell you, even if it were true. I value my life.”
It’s as much of an admission as she’s going to get. Pepa huffs and opens the car door for Marta. And then she walks around to the other side, and folds her long limbs inside.
She starts the car, and they drive for several minutes in silence; Marta staring out the window, lost in thought, Pepa, worried about what sort of damage control she might need to do.
Marta turns toward Pepa.
“He is a little scary, though, isn’t he?” she says at last.
Pepa smirks. I knew it.
“Tell me about it,” she says.