Complicado (Queen of the South, My Season 6)

Part 23 - I Don't Believe in Omens

It was late at night when Chicho and James got into a serious conversation about the advantages of one handgun over another. The tequila consumed so far didn't help the ensuing argument and Pote had to intervene with the suggestion that they all go to James's shooting range and test both guns out. Marcel, who seemed like the most sober, was supposed to drive until James's nephew Bobby Simmons volunteered.

Teresa heard the SUV pull back in at around 1 a.m. in the morning and as the men all begrudgingly went to their respective rooms while being told to keep their voices down, she thanked Bobby for driving them back and forth.

"I need a drink myself now, Auntie!" Bobby shook his head. "Never thought grown men could be so loud in the confined space of a car...on top of having been on the shooting range for 2 hours!"

===

James woke up late as the sun was streaming in the room. He was also alone. His nostrils detected the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies.

He climbed out of bed, used the bathroom, splashed water on his face, got into his jeans and headed for the kitchen as his head screamed for coffee. As he came down the stairs, he started hearing pots banging, cabinets opening and closing and felt the scent of cooking meat drifting up the hallway with a smell that was very astutely familiar.

He stood at the threshold, his face half in light, half in shadow and peeked into the kitchen. A mariachi song was playing low, a bottle of red was open on the table, and Teresa stood in front of the kitchen island, chopping an onion on the stone countertop in an apron, tears coming down her cheeks. He glanced at the clock on the wall: it was past noon!

"Smells amazing", he said, his mouth watering, his stomach gurgling.

"Would you mind stirring it?" , she managed to say as he walked over to the range and lifted the lid off the deep pot. The steam that rose to his face took him home. It was a traditional Mexican dish – a bean stew made with an assortment of legumes and meats; chorizo, pancetta, black sausage. Just as he liked it!

Teresa finished with the onion, covered it in a pan on the side, sniffled several times and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Then she finally looked at him appreciatively and smoothed down some of his morning hair. Her smile was way jovial for the happiness chopping onions brought, he thought, and realized that she was buzzed from her lukewarm wine.

She uncovered a dish and pushed a piece of something wrapped in bacon in his mouth and as he closed it to chew, she smacked her lips on his: "You like it?" The smile was even more enticing that the food. She looked flawless...and weightless...and just perfect!

"Hmm!", he smiled too enjoying the bacon wrapped scallop. "My head feels very heavy...after the long day yesterday and all the tequila that went in...", he said and sat on the bar chair heavily.

Teresa sipped from her wine glass while making him a coffee and putting it in front of him with the smile still in place. He massaged his temples staring down at the steam rising off its surface as she looked at him with the compassion that had always defined her.

"I have to prepare a few things...because we are still 13 people in the house!" she chirped. "I've been busy!"

James slowly shook his head and rubbed his eyes: "I can see...maybe the Cantina should have delivered!"

"I plan on telling Pote to do it for the evening...but for lunch...and for this afternoon around the pool..." Teresa pulled out peppers and tomatoes and started washing them.

"You got three...no...four dishes on at the same time!" James was amazed. "How many can you handle at once?"

"A few!" she smiled back at him.