As it turned out, Lauren sent the address some time in the evening, when the detective was sound asleep; wild, caveman hair all over her face, mouth ajar and limbs spilling from her relatively comfortable make-shift mattress. As far as Sinu was concerned, it was important to note that her daughter grunted like a caveman when being woken up, too.
There wasn't anything graceful about an exhausted Camila in her slumber.
At some point, Camila worried about her pest of a brother but she found his shoes by the locked front door when she woke up in the middle of the night with a gurgling stomach. Miraculously, Camila ignored her appetite and managed to slither back to dreamland until moments preceding the breaking dawn; waking up before anyone could, even beating big ol' Mr. Sun.
Then again, there was just something about being in the same house as her mother and grandmother that pacified her, and the fifteen hours she spent unconscious would prove that.
The comfort of familiarity quells the commotion of an anxious being.
But since she didn't have lunch nor dinner, and the snacks she typically inhaled in between, the first thing in her mind was food. After brewing some coffee, she made quick work gathering and chopping ingredients to make frittatas, including a hefty amount of asparagus and spinach. All the while, munching on some brownies she found in the refrigerator.
It was most likely her third piece when Sinu walked in, preceded by the gentle click of the door.
"You're cooking." The woman noted, minty breath blowing mildly at the side of her daughter's cheek.
"I can cook." Camila retorted, dismissive. She glanced at her mother, only to send her a look of disapproval before devoting her attention back to cutting the last piece of white onion. "Sit this one out. I made some coffee."
"Don't cut it too big."
Mouth gaped, the detective stared at her mother like she grew another head with another mouth to nag her ass out – as if one wasn't enough. Camila was meticulous in her knife skills, bearing in mind just how much she despised large chunks of onion. She would have brought up some facts, the part where she'd been cooking for over a decade but realized she could never please her mother in that aspect. In those years, it had always been 'this needs more salt,' 'I can't taste a certain ingredient,' 'too much butter,' and her favorite 'this is unhealthy.'
The list goes on and on.
Camila always wondered when she would hear 'just right.' She wasn't even asking for a resounding 'perfect.' Those dreams only flourish when she's piss drunk.
Truthfully, she was impressed her mother found something. By preheating the oven and adding bacon for Franco, she thought she had everything covered.
As it turns out, she was wrong.
A round of applause for Sinuhe Cabello.
Camila wished she made a plaque or a certificate for 'best in nitpicking.' That would have erased that smug look from her mother's face. She reminded herself to get ready next time she visits.
Of course, she'd have to prepare her limbs for the impending slap. It'd be worth it, though, she concluded.
"What part of sit back and relax don't you understand?" She chided, a hand on her waist when she found her mother gathering the empty cups and plates to wash; depositing them in the sink in front of the wide window covered by floral curtains.
"What part of me being your mother don't you understand?" Sinu retorted promptly, set on doing the task; leaving her daughter to shake her head and just start cooking.
It was a lost cause. Camila knew when to back down. That didn't mean she couldn't roll her eyes or let out a huff like an angered bull...or a petulant child, who had lost an argument against her mother.
"We tried waking you up last night but you wouldn't budge. Abuela suggested we pour water on your face but I knew you'd blame it on me."
"You do know me, mami." Camila retorted, sarcastic lilt painfully apparent that Sinu decided to flick some water to her face; effectively erasing her grin. Cringing, the detective tightly sealed her eyes to protect them and heaved another sigh because well, she deserved that.
"You shouldn't skip meals, mija. You had chronic gastritis. I don't want a repeat of last time." Sinu scolded, slapping the soapy rubber spatula on her daughter's right shoulder.
The woman was referring to the time Camila was sent to the hospital with persistent stomach pains and vomiting. She had a painful experience with the endoscopic procedure but it did help diagnose the problem. It was months after the incident that still haunted her in her dreams. At the time, her anxiety was nearly uncontrollable and her appetite wasn't the best, compromising her immune system.
But seriously, Sinu didn't really have to hit Camila. But she did anyway.
"Had and last time was like high school. I've got the hang of it." Camila reminded her mother, raising her wooden spatula as if to warn her mother not to do it again; she had a weapon and she would fight her. Her shoulder hurt and her face was wet. That was punishment enough.
"If you say so. I'm just glad you slept early. You don't sleep."
"I do sleep."
"Well, you sleep late." Sinu countered as she briskly scrubbed the cutting board, sending daggers Camila's way.
"Exaggerating things I do won't help your argument, though." Camila murmured under her breath, doing her best to toss the sautéed vegetable in the pan.
"Qué?"
"Nothing."
Whether Sinu understood her snide comment or not, that opened up a whole new conversation. It was one that the detective didn't like to discuss. It was no secret her mother wasn't the greatest fan of her staying up, but at times, it was just impossible to close her eyes and command her body to sleep. If she could hypnotize herself with a stupid clock, she would have.
It was just plainly difficult to silence her reeling mind, thoughts running wild – taking turns flashing before her eyes. At times, they would project to reality and cloud her emotions, keeping her too occupied to even revisit the mere idea of sleep.
Camila tried to explain that to her mother on more than one occasion but nothing ever helped. But being evasive wasn't yielding much results either. It only spurred her mother to nag some more, dampening the detective's mood. Unfortunately, it lingered on until it was time for Camila to set the pan in the oven and then check the time on the microwave hovering to her upper left for reference.
In her desire for a distraction, before her temper could be prodded enough, she raced to the living room and sat on her bed to check if she had new messages. She was set on finally replying to Lauren, confirming the receipt of the message because she was proper like that. It might have been a little dry as per usual, unable to suppress her resentments after being left to wonder where she went wrong for over two months but she couldn't deny the damn fluttering in her chest everytime she received a text from the gorgeous dentist either.
And it was the case when a reply came in.
I hope you have a good day, Camz! See you tomorrow!
Camila wouldn't notice she was grinning when she typing 'You, too, Lauren. See you.' Otherwise, she would have dropped the stupid grin and pretended to be irritated, scowl and all – the whole shebang just to convince herself as well. And while she was experiencing a tiny sliver of clarity shedding some light on the fact that she actually liked Lauren's company, she wasn't all that opposed when every fiber of her being thrummed with excitement.
She was excited but not too excited, she would clarify.
Although, she may or may not have counted the hours until Friday...around eight.
"Do you have novio yet? Novia? Whichever one it is you prefer." Sinu asked without pretense when Camila returned to the kitchen, phone in hand. She was sitting around the rectangular kitchen island that doubled as their dining table, arranging the fruit basket because god forbid, Sinu would run out of things to do.
The brown granite countertops were wiped down to a shiny finish, even the sink looked pristine when it was overflowing with dishes earlier. If Camila would check the light, traditional style wooden cabinets, she would find the salt and spices in order. The only indication she was even there minutes ago was the burner, which was clean but still hot.
The detective had to take her time, marveling at the seemingly spotless kitchen. Her mother had managed to tidy everything up in a span of minutes. Camila briefly wondered if that was a superpower she could inherit when she becomes a mother.
Correction. If she becomes a mother.
Truthfully, kids weren't her top priority and being with one always heightened her stress levels. The wailing always felt like drills relentlessly piercing through her eardrums while simultaneously squeezing her heart. Brats annoyed the living hell out of her and her glare would quickly flicker like headlights, aimed at them.
Although, she hadn't aired her sentiments as much since earning more judgment than sympathy. Dinah and Normani weren't too pleased when they found out, too. Somehow, being a woman instantly translated to wanting children and that equation was practically a syntax error in Camila's perspective.
"Nope." Camila's answer was direct to the point, honest, yet evasive.
"Pero you're twenty eight, mija! Por qué?" Sinu was worried; yanking her daughter to sit next to her.
"Women are exhausting, mami. And men have things I don't like. No bueno." Camila spat bitterly, Mandy, Natalia and Lauren in her mind. Perching both elbows on the table, she cradled her chin between her palms and rolled her eyes because that conversation was ridiculous.
It still came as a shock to Camila when her mother would urge her to go out and meet people. In the past, she would barely allow her daughter to hang out with friends, convinced that one of them was Camila's boyfriend – until the detective told them she was gay at fifteen, in which case, Sinu suspected every girl Camila brought home was her girlfriend. Dinah was unfortunately one of them, earning certain scrutinizing looks that weren't the most comfortable.
If Normani wasn't wearing an engagement ring when Camila first introduced her to Sinu, she would have also been a potential girlfriend in the woman's eyes.
It all changed when she hit twenty eight, and since then, Sinu was relentless. And it wasn't like mentioning her age would suddenly pressure Camila to settle down. It just didn't work that way.
But the thought of dating elicited some unsavory flavors to swell in Camila's tongue. Being with Mandy was nothing short of a disaster, she acknowledged. It may have taken ages...and some insistent nagging and arguments with her friends, but she knew that now. Natalia may be sweet but she was an absolute pain in the behind. She was worse at badgering than her friends, and that would have already said something considering they never spared Camila a word. Pretending to be hers as Gabrielle Reyes was more than enough.
And Lauren...Lauren was a puzzle, it seemed; a confusing maze with a ton of winding paths, dead ends and trap doors.
She wondered why she even thought of the dentist. They weren't necessarily involved in that way. Sure, she broke her golden rule of no one time conquests but at the time, it felt right. She just made one fatal mistake, forgetting they were merely pretending.
"You talk like you're not a woman."
"No, I know I'm exhausting. So, every woman is exhausting."
"You're saying I'm exhausting?" Sinu challenged and Camila knew she was supposed to tread lightly. But who was she kidding? She wouldn't be their dear Lucky without some snarky comments here and there.
"Oh, definitely. No doubt."
As soon as she finished speaking, a banana peel landed on her forehead. She definitely asked for that.
"Seriously, mami? Do you want me to call child services on you?" Camila shot her mother an incredulous scowl but was quickly deflated by the smug grin Sinu wore as she happily munched on a piece of banana.
Where else would the peel come from?
"You just admitted you're a child." Sinu pointed out, wagging the fruit in her hand.
"Exclusively for ya, mother." Camila begrudgingly retorted, relenting to the blatant fact that she had lost the banter she started.
Fortunately, Sinu had no time to gloat as she was interrupted by the sound of the door to her room opening and closing at a leisurely pace. And that only meant one thing.
"Here she comes." Sinu softly announced, excitement drenching her features.
"Fifty bucks says abuela will ask about a novia." Camila slyly smirked, abandoning her phone on the table to get up and greet her grandmother.
"Sinu?" Ynes called, leisurely wandering into the kitchen in her light blue night gown and fluffy slippers; short, curly hair brushed meticulously, not a strand out of place.
Seeing her grandmother was like the last piece to complete the puzzle of home for Camila. Her presence meant normalcy was restored and she could let her guard down, the lowest she could allow them to. For a long time, peace of mind equated to knowing both Sinu and Ynes were alright but being in their presence made her feel the lightest.
Mostly being raised by Ynes, Camila felt the strongest connection with the woman and in turn, found the fondest memories of her childhood with her. Sinu sacrificed her time with Camila to help provide for their family as Alejandro wasn't making enough money and it wasn't until his promotion that she was allowed to resign and tend to her child.
"Hola, abuela. Remember me?" Camila could feel every fiber in her being thrumming with excitement, fidgeting in her place as she quietly inspected Ynes' features morphing from shocked to blissful in a matter of seconds.
"Ay, mi Camilita!" The woman exclaimed, arms outstretched as she sauntered over to her granddaughter, who was rushing towards her.
Ynes squeezed Camila in her arms, swaying from side to side as she mumbled some words of disbelief and some demands about visiting often. She wouldn't know that her granddaughter's eyes were sealed, desperately hoping to linger in her blissful state – seeking familiarity and comfort in her scent, in her touch, in her voice.
They could faintly hear rustling in the background but were too engrossed in the joy of their reunion to check.
"Cómo estás, preciosa?" Ynes pulled back, cupping Camila's cheeks but her grin never faltered, defining lines at the corner of her eyes. "Novia?"
"Muy bien now that you made me fifty bucks richer!" Camila jested, giggling at the confusion in her grandmother's eyes. Her arms remained looped around Ynes' waist and she was not letting go for a while. "Still no novia, abuela."
"Pero you're so beautiful, mi preciosa." Ynes objected with a frown, smoothening Camila's hair and tucking some strands behind her ear.
"And grumpy and cynical. And moody and sarcastic." Sinu interjected, a devious grin upon her lips, which Camila was oddly mirroring.
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, mami." Camila bantered, nudging her brows to challenge her mother. She was almost sure she had that round.
Almost.
"Some apples rot before they fall." Sinu shrugged and feigned disinterest, leaving her daughter to gape in utter shock. "Oh, yes. You got the wit from me. You still have a lot to learn, hija. Like how you should have taken the frittatas out of the oven three minutes ago."
Camila followed her mother's hand, directing her to the scorching pan on the burner with its contents cooked just right. She couldn't bear to look into Sinu's arrogant eyes and just decided to lead her mother to the table and help her get settled in before she set the table.
"Cómo estás, mi Camilita?" Ynes queried just as Camila joined her in the table, squeezing her hand. "Dónde esta tu novia?"
"Still no girlfriend since the last time you asked, which was ten minutes ago." Camila fondly grinned despite mumbling the last bit of her statement under her breath. She kissed her grandmother's cheek and leaned her head on her shoulder. "You're so adorable, abuela! We're playing scrabble later, yeah?"
The woman eagerly agreed, eyes glimmering with excitement well into her meal. All the while, she would glance at Camila just to make sure her granddaughter was there, and each time the detective caught her, they would share a brief yet meaningful smile.
It was clear to anyone that they missed each other.
When Franco showed up to the kitchen in his unkempt curly hair that was much longer than Camila remembered, the two siblings barely regarded each other despite the apparent relief in both of their brown eyes that other was safe. Franco would never say it but he wasn't happy about Camila's career choice and the latter would worry about her brother's well-being like it was her job to do so.
Their last encounter didn't end well; Camila reprimanding her brother firmly, never holding back on spewing her disapproval out to the remorseful boy and Franco wasn't too appreciative of it, defiantly talking back to his older sister. In turn, erupting an argument that would compromise their already fragile relationship.
How was she expected to be a mother when her brother alone was already driving her insane?
Still, her busy day was just starting and she was not going to expel all her energy yelling at her brother.
Camila delivered on her promise to play Scrabble with her grandmother, twice over. They had to take a break to go grocery shopping with Sinu and grab lunch while they were out. But as soon as they got back, they were on the kitchen island, challenging each other on a three-part tournament of chess with their childish game faces on and cups of tea on the side.
Ynes wasn't allowed to have caffeine in the afternoon and Camila was gladly complying to the rules despite gagging every single time she took a sip of her green tea.
Sinu quietly watched as the pair giggled like maniacs, when Ynes made a move that captured one of Camila's bishops, as if the fifty five years of norms and traditions that separated them was nothing but trivial fact. Their relationship was different, Sinu could easily note. But she couldn't hold it against Ynes if Camila gravitated more towards her.
They were kindred spirits from the get go and whatever fears she and Ynes had of Camila drifting away as soon as she reached adulthood had been quashed every single time the detective wandered back home.
And while Camila's relationship with her grandmother remained strong despite time and diseases, it was different when it came to Franco. Both were adamant about staying as far away from each other; Franco looking himself in his room as soon as he got home from school, only exiting when it was time for dinner. Lessening the encounter meant decreasing the chances of a spark that would precede an explosion.
"You washed them." Camila said in disbelief, later that night as she watched her mother folding every single pair of clothing she wore in two days along with the surplus of her overpacking – including her underwear.
Although, she couldn't say she was expecting anything less when she emerged from her mother and grandmother's room. Well, when she looked up from her phone after replying to Lauren's third consecutive day of wishing her a good night.
Camila might have not needed her assistance as much as she did when she was a child but it was just one of the few things Sinu did for her adult daughter in the hopes of making up for her childhood. By the time she quit working, she was already pregnant with Sofia and in two years, Franco. Camila might have not demanded for attention from Sinu but the woman could sense some sort of longing, maybe even resentment in those brown eyes.
And it pained her to acknowledge that Alejandro had to point it out to her before she took notice.
"I don't know why you keep complaining. It's only a matter of putting them in the washing machine and folding them after. That thing washes and dries, so it's not like I do a lot of work."
"But my underwear, mami!" She protested, scratching the back of her head, which was itchy all of a sudden. "What kind of savage do you think, I am?"
"Stop it." Sinu ignored her daughter, proceeding to file her clothes back in the limp duffel she perched on the coffee table. "I'll still be your mother even if you have grandchildren."
Camila's apprehension was only magnified when she found the state of her bag, wide open and accepting of prying eyes. She was hopeful her mother didn't search the pockets with the white envelope she meant to hand over to Sinu the day prior or the lining at the bottom, where her concealed weapon was.
It was no secret her mother was nosy, sticking her damn nose up her children's business and that was still worse than Ynes sniffing her armpits.
Although, being awake for over eighteen well-spent hours, Camila resigned all her protests with a shrug and just sat next to her mother. She was too tired to argue and too tired to appraise the woman's actions to see if she was hiding a secret – more than usual. Not a second later, she yawning, perching her sleepy head on her mother's shoulder.
"Had fun with abuela?"
"Always." Camila flashed a small grin, allowing her eyes to close as she savored the bliss residing in her chest.
Happiness was fleeting, it seemed. And every single time the wind brought it to her, Camila would always try to hold onto it as tight as she could until they disappear in her grasp, evaporating like an illusion.
Camila was smiling when she recalled the hours she spent lying next to Ynes as the woman talked herself to sleep – jokes and banters in between. They laughed at the silliest of things, including Camila's seemingly timeless jabs, playfully coaxing her grandmother to scope out the community for a boyfriend, which started some four years prior, after her grandfather's passing.
Ynes was always adamant about only having eyes for her man albeit giggling like a school girl.
"She likes having you around." Sinu shared. She might never admit it out loud but she did, too.
"I like being here."
"That's good to know."
Silence ensued as Camila helplessly watched her mother arrange her clothes. She held her breath every time Sinu's hand reached the bottom of her duffel, already imagining the nagging she would receive along with some highly impossible scenarios her mother could come up with. Risking her mother's incredulity, she yanked her bag just after the last pair of underwear was tucked in.
Camila wore the most ridiculous, guiltiest grin as she felt for the knife, slyly sighing when she deemed it to be tucked in the same place she kept it in. Averting her mother's gaze, she located the white envelope in one of the pockets and handed it to her mother without a word.
She was quiet when Sinu furrowed her brows, accepting it. She remained tightlipped when those brows climbed up her forehead, eyes wide with disbelief.
In Sinu's hands was a deposit slip bearing a hefty amount of money in five digits. Pursuing the Ortegas was rewarding in terms of Camila's financial capacity but being one of the two agents who uncovered the elusive Zorro, she was bound to receive an extra incentive. The agency was more than willing to offer more if their budget wouldn't have been questioned. Then again, Camila wasn't one to demand for more.
"That's from a...project and I thought you could use it." Camila clarified despite withholding important details that were sure to get her locked in the house for the rest of her life. "Go on a spa day with abuela; haircut, mani pedi. I don't know. Buy a car or something. Yours is old. If not, use it for abuela's meds or a nurse but you have to leave some for you, too."
"All of it?"
"I have the rest tucked in my savings."
"That much?" Sinu prodded, her mouth agape. There was an underlying fear in her tone, the kind that was hoping her daughter wasn't involved in any illegal transactions.
"I worked my a...derriere off for it for a long time." Camila caught herself before she could utter a word prohibited by her mother, cringing at the thought of Sinu flicking her mouth like all the other times she accidentally slipped. She didn't specify the duration of said project, knowing mere five months wasn't enough to earn as much money in most lines of work. "They had to pay for compensation of my labor."
"This is too much, mija." Sinu waved the slip in front of her, emphasizing it.
"Keep it. I have nothing to spend it on." Camila implored, folding her mother's hand over the slip and squeezed it with hers. "Besides, even if I did, I would always want to share what I have with you guys. I have a house and a car, I can feed myself three times daily and still have more I don't use."
"Yet you skip at least once."
"I'm fine, mami."
There was still enough fight in Sinu's eyes to refute her claims but she didn't want to overwhelm her, bearing in mind Camila was nearly thirty and seemed to be taking care of herself just fine. And so, she smiled and covered her daughter's hand with her free one, giving it a squeeze to express her silent gratitude.
"Have you talked to your father?" Sinu asked without pretense, softly introducing the subject knowing just how sore it was for Camila, earning a shake of the head. "He's worried about you."
If there was anything worse than discussing Franco with Camila, it was bringing up Alejandro.
"There's nothing to worry about. I look the same as I did when we last saw each other." Camila evaded, ducking her head in the hopes of keeping her mother from seeing through her lies. She sure as hell wore more scars than last time. And there wasn't such a thing as a tattoo on one of her ribs, too. "Does he know I'm here? Did you tell him?"
"I did call him yesterday."
"That's nice."
Because...what else was there to say?
"You're just like him, you know?"
"I'm nothing like him." Camila defiantly denied as she crossed her arms, already done with the subject.
"You're both stubborn, strong-willed, short-tempered, quick to refute, rebellious. But you two are loving, loyal and secretly affectionate." Sinu pointed out and each adjective she could come up with, there was a corresponding grunt or huff from her stubborn ass daughter. "He wants to see you, mija."
"I'll call to him." Camila grumbled just to appease her mother despite having no intentions of following through.
Then again, Sinu's grateful smile might have swayed her to reconsider just a teeny tiny bit.
By the following morning, Lauren's name was already flashing on Camila's phone display before the detective could open her eyes. The thought of the woman's consistency made her wonder if it would have been better if she asked Lauren to send her a text message rather than a phone call upon landing as they clung to each other at McCarran International Airport.
It might have just been Lauren's way of making up for what she didn't do. Then again, the cynical bitch in the detective made her consider the thought of the dentist having an ulterior motive. Hell, she had over two and a half months to woman up and find it in her heart to reach out but she didn't. So, why now?
It seemed too convenient.
Regardless, it was another busy day with Sinu and Ynes, and her mother was bright and early, and that meant breakfast was waiting to be devoured, too. By the time Camila had to leave, her emotions were all over the place. As much as she loved the prospect of seeing Lauren again, leaving her family was always difficult. She extended their time together until the afternoon but by five, she definitely had to leave.
Ynes sent Camila off with a jovial hug, chuckling at the latter's dumb jokes while Sinu held her daughter tighter, chanting some reminders that Camila knew too well, and that was 'I love you' in Sinu's language.
Camila was picky, she acknowledged that wholeheartedly but the luxury of choice wasn't warranted when time was of the essence. Much like in Las Vegas, she wasn't luckiest with taxicabs. While she landed a suicidal maniac for a driver then, she had the displeasure of having a chimney behind the wheel this time. The scruffy, middle-aged man didn't have to light one cancer stick in the whole duration for Camila to smell it in the seats and well, the entire interior.
By the time they reached her destination, the smoke mask in her closet was on her 'things to bring to mom's house' list and her lungs were burning, clawing at her neck to gulp fresh air. Holding her breath or inhaling through her shirt and palm wasn't necessarily satisfying. And Camila definitely had some choice words to yell to the fella but his cheerful grin was deterring her feisty spirit.
So, instead, she paid him and sent him away with halfhearted gratitude.
Camila had half a mind to yell after his retreating vehicle but found one that shouldn't have been parked in her driveway, restored to its glory right next to Dinah's.
"Dinah?" Camila called, jangling her keys haphazardly with the minor struggle to yank it out the knob. "Who drove my car here?"
She inhaled as she dropped her duffel by the door, smelling something sweet and familiar in the air she was breathing. Sensing no threat, she unzipped her cargo jacket and took it off, leaving it draped over the couch, where a woman's purse was unattended. She wouldn't have been everyone's dear old Lucky if she didn't think of the possibility of a thief breaking in and stealing the bag and of course, she had to groan because her mother wasn't just rubbing off on her, she was becoming her mother. She didn't even have children yet.
"I did." Dinah yelled from her room, accompanied by heavy thuds of footsteps that Camila was worried she was scrambling to hide a man inside. "Chief told me it was ready and the shop guy knew both of us so he let me take it."
"What in the world are you doing there?" Camila's features crumpled when an image of her friend and her male companion naked, doing unspeakable things appeared in her head.
"Changing."
Camila didn't necessarily buy that but her attention was taken away by the leisurely click of heels emanating from the kitchen and came to a stop beneath the doorframe. Her jaw dropped at the sight before her, beginning with the sexy pair of strappy heels, tight white jeans up to the crochet lace chiffon blouse hanging over the woman's shoulders that exposed her strong arms.
She was definitely impressed.
Normani was as fit as ever that it would be hard to imagine she had a baby five months ago. Camila would even bet that if she lifted the woman's blouse, her sight would be blessed with those rippling abs. She could definitely spot a sizzling woman when it's right in front of her but years of friendship with Normani never really resulted in much as far as leaping over boundaries was concerned.
They were just not attracted to each other in that way.
Although, that didn't mean Camila couldn't make a fool out of herself admiring her friend's postpartum body. For a fleeting moment, she did wonder how Lauren would feel if she witnessed Camila openly flattering her friend.
"Hello, Cabello." Normani greeted in a sultry tone, smirking at her friend's reaction.
"Hey, Mrs. Tanner." Camila retorted, shaking her head to express her disbelief; shamelessly gawking at her friend's physique. "What in the hell is going on?! Back in shape already? Let me just whistle for a bit 'cause, girl, you deserve it."
"Oh, shut up. Get in here!" Normani chuckled as she beckoned her over with open arms. She held Camila for a long period, closing her eyes to express her gratitude that her friend made it home safely. "I missed you."
"Me, too. But is it too late to like, ask you out?"
"I'm married, Lucky!"
Normani pushed her friend away from her in a show of protest despite herself. She was laughing at the clumsy Casanova's joke but she couldn't help but appreciate the compliment hidden in it. Camila never held herself back when expressing her awe of her form. She did notice it occurring more often when Dinah was around, which was odd.
"Come here! I brought someone." She yanked Camila towards the kitchen by the wrist, stopping by the rectangular table and in front of the carriage that functioned as a stroller and a baby basket.
Camila gasped when she found two large, round eyes staring at her; innocence radiating in her bright gaze. She found herself smiling as she inspected Anya's precious skin void of creases, tension from the world's problems. A red headband looped around her tiny skull with a cute, little flower resting over her left side.
And gosh, those sausage arms and legs looked delectable that Camila was tempted to ask Normani if she could take a little nibble.
"Aw! Hi, pretty baby! You got bigger since we last saw each other." Camila cooed, wiggling her finger over Anya's belly but didn't attempt to take her in her arms in the fear of breaking her. Her eyes were filled with admiration as they had always been since she met her the second she was born. "How can you go to work and leave it?"
"Her! Anya!" Dinah interjected before Normani could as she stepped into the kitchen, a towel twisted above her head. And judging by the look on Normani's face, it was best that Dinah did.
Those two words wouldn't have been all the mother hen had to say.
"How can you leave her?" Camila repeated, using the right pronoun this time. But even then, she was cautious, keeping her eyes on Normani just in case she pounced. She wasn't in the mood for more bruises.
"I know." Normani frowned, caressing Anya's cheek. "It's tough."
"Hang in there, momma." Camila slung her arm behind Normani to perch her hand on her waist, pulling her in for a side hug. Her gaze flitted to her roommate, who was drinking from a bottled water by the refrigerator just as something rancid wafted in her nose. "How was work? Something f-word-ing stinks!"
Normani sent her friend a warning glare that prompted the latter to drop her hand and take a step, cowering away from the protective mother. Something told Camila her friend would impose the same rules as Sinu regarding swearing, and for good reason; she had a baby. Still, it would take months for little Anya to start picking up on Camila's less than graceful mouth.
She had time to adjust.
"Hey! I've showered!" Dinah protested with a stop of her foot. She lifted her oversized shirt, taking a long whiff and then raised her armpits just to check; grateful to find that nothing stood out. "My uniform's in the tub, getting a good soak with soap and hot water. I think I may have to throw my shoes away, though. They're in the back porch."
"That's you?! What the heck happened?"
Camila crumpled her features as she digested the smell, waving her hand in front of her nose. It smelled like a putrid combination of stomach acid, rotten food, a dead rodent and maybe even soiled diapers, and just as she reached her conclusion, she gagged. She definitely caught a whiff of a dead rodent, days old and decomposing. The image coupled by the stench was just too much for her.
"Robbery, assault in Rose Park." Dinah screwed the cap back on and picked up one water bottle for Camila from the refrigerator, throwing it towards her. She then sauntered over to the table across from her friends, creating as much space as possible from the squeamish. "We just got there just in time for the thief to make a run for it. He went in an alley and decided to be the Hulk and pushed a dumpster at us. I'm pretty sure someone threw up there just a couple of minutes prior."
"I'd probably hurl." Camila frowned, rubbing her suddenly sensitive belly. The sweating water bottle in her hand was enticing but she couldn't find it in herself to open it with the thoughts swirling in her head. She didn't want to waste it.
"Oh, you definitely would have." Dinah concurred, earning a nod of agreement from Normani with the knowledge of their friend's weak stomach. "For someone who has seen guts spilling from open skulls, you have a low tolerance for stomach acid."
"It stinks, Dinah. It's the smell and not the sight!" Camila clarified and pulled up a chair to sit. It was then that she noticed Normani's somber expressions at the mention of their jobs, and as her friend, she was obliged to ask. "What about you? You seem...out of it. Gang unit that bad?"
"It's an old case from when I was in Person Crimes. You know about the woman I told you about? Domestic violence case." Normani asked, raising her brows as she waited for Camila to nod in confirmation. Sighing heavily, she shook her head at what she was about to share. "She's still with her husband."
"Still lies about the bruises?" Camila queried and earned a hum from her friend. "How long have they been married?"
"Almost ten years. They have three kids, too; youngest is around one. She was hoping he'd change by the second one."
"Oh, god." Camila groaned, disappointed by what she was hearing. "She shouldn't count on that but I don't blame her. Somewhere along the way, abused victims will feel a dependence because somehow, the abuser would brainwash them – make 'em feel worthless. They would mostly perceive themselves as undeserving of happiness unless the abusers hand it to them but won't feel that they even have the right to demand. There will be several times she would feel she's had enough but the husband will apologize, throw in empty promises and all is fine and dandy again until the next time he beats her up."
It was tragic, really. Camila had met several victims of domestic abuse herself. Every single one would have an excuse to defend their abuser, ready to fire in retaliation of the truth that Camila would carefully offer them. It was one of the more draining parts of her job, having to see a person continue to suffer in the hands of another who claim to love them.
Love wasn't meant to hurt.
And without so much as a testimony from the victim, no case could be filed against the perpetrators.
Although, that didn't necessarily stop them from saving certain victims in the past.
"I know." Normani concurred, rubbing at her temples. Hopelessness was a persuasive feeling and it was compelling her to her knees. She would have personally beat up her husband if he even thought about hitting her. "How about you meet with her, too? You're the stubborn one. You could outwit her in her game."
"I don't appreciate the last bit but sure. I don't mind." Camila narrowed her eyes at her friend, sending her displeasure with her gaze. Satisfied, she proceeded to twist the water bottle open and sent her head back, gulping more than half of the volume. "Just not now cause I have somewhere to be."
"Where are you going?" Dinah prodded, leaning into the table with a hand comfortably perched on the timber surface.
"A house." Camila retorted, unconsciously searching for something interesting to do like picking on the bottle label.
"Is it a date?" Normani perked up but instantly deflated when she considered the equivocal flair in the Latina's general demeanor. Her friend was evasive and couldn't even hold her gaze. Something was up, she concluded. "Please don't tell me it's Mandy. Your tone makes you sound suspicious."
"No, it's not." Camila denied with such conviction but wasn't compelled to share the identity of the person she was meeting with. "I'm done with her. For real this time."
It was no secret that Normani wasn't convinced by what she was hearing as she had heard the same words over and over for nearly two years and most of the duration of Camila's relationship with Mandy – the last time being the day of the latter's wedding that she and Dinah had to physically manhandle her out of.
At times, it was difficult to be the Latina's friend when Mandy was involved in the equation. It was a conundrum to them how Camila could defend the woman when she was apparently suffering the more she stayed with her.
Dinah chose to stay out of it, rounding the table to take Anya out of the basket and into her arms. Normani was more than capable of confronting Camila while she was better at soothing her in Mandy's aftermath. However, should the situation call it, she would gladly join forces with the intimidating new mother if it meant they could knock some sense into Camila.
"I'm very happy to hear that. I can run after you this time, if you decide to literally sprint after her again, you know. Dinah and I can tag team, and cornering you would be so easy." Normani halfheartedly threatened, features softening when she regarded her friend, smiling down at her baby.
To Camila, it almost appeared like a look of love and admiration, and she didn't have it in her to disrupt the tender moment.
"So, is it a date?" Normani queried, crawling out of the trance she had just been sucked in. There was a conscious effort in her to appear like she wasn't just overwhelmed by her friend, holding her little one as she earnestly prayed that the Latina didn't notice.
Well, she did.
"Most likely not." Camila answered truthfully, ignoring the way her heart cracked at the truth she was uttering. It just couldn't be a date.
"What's her name?" Normani asked straight away, the first important detail of Camila's companion's identity.
"Where'd you meet her?" Dinah added despite having her lips softly pressed against Anya's forehead. It was a conversation she couldn't miss out on as she was very curious now that it wasn't Mandy.
"What does she look like?"
"Is she hot? Cute?"
"Does she have a job?"
"Stable mental health?"
"Not a controlling psycho?"
Camila gaped at her friends, who shot question after question like they were firing rounds of bullets at an armed criminal. Each one sent Camila leaning back, farther away from them to give herself some more breathing space. She would admit that she was a little spooked, gaping at the lunatics she called her friends.
They were worse than Sinu, for crying out loud. And she definitely didn't need three mothers. Sinu was already doing a stellar job.
Although, unlike Sinu, Dinah knew of a secret that came in a black ink and she was just about to shed some light on her discovery at the same time Camila worked on answering each one of their questions when Normani waved both of them off.
"Okay, since you're the mysterious brooding shit, I'll let that slide. What do you want?"
"Why do you assume I-" Camila was just about to protest Normani's assumption but caught herself with a resigned sigh. "What do you wear to those things? I'm almost sure it's not a date."
"You're typically well-dressed and you definitely don't need help with that." Normani eyed the Latina's ensemble, noting the right fit of her jeans and her stylish loose sweater. "I think what you're wearing is good enough for a casual night minus the smell of smoke. Whoever that person is, if they don't smoke, they'd appreciate your fragrance without it."
"Stupid cab driver. He was fine polluting both our lungs with the interior of her damn car." Camila grumbled, curling her upper lip in disgust. "But, I just want to make sure...how should I dress?"
"I'd say casual but not too laid back to let whoever that person know that you're adventurous enough but the type parents want to meet kinda thing."
"Oh, I've met her dad before." Camila huffed, scornful as she rolled her eyes. She could just picture Michael Jauregui's disdain like she was seeing it before her eyes, round face flushed with anger as his brown eyes was set ablaze. "He despises me."
"It's decided, then." Normani smirked at her friend, nudging her brows knowingly. "Dress like a hot professional."
"I am a professional." Camila pointed out, crossing her arms in an act of defiance.
Unfortunately, her protests were falling on deaf ears and blind eyes as Normani was busy creating an image in her head like she was looking through a catalogue of the newest trends. No one could blame her. The woman lived and breathed fashion and high end couture that even in her uniform, she looked like she was merely modeling.
"Slacks would look weird. She's not going to a meeting." Normani shook her head, disapproving of the first ensemble she assembled, noting Camila's work clothing.
"A dress maybe? Not the tight black one or the short red one that shows too much skin. She's not trying to get laid, is she?" Dinah interjected, offering her own opinions as her gaze wandered Camila's body, sizing her up like she had never seen her before but never really bothered to address the detective.
Camila would point out how Dinah had repeatedly seen her naked in the past. Not that she would be acknowledged, really. She would even answer her friend's two questions, being the subject of the conversation but she realized that her friends were...once again, leaving her out of it. She felt like she was their oldest child of six, left to fend for herself as her mothers tended to her younger siblings.
Raising her brows, she wondered if they even noticed what was happening. She would also point out that that she still existed and didn't leave them, or perhaps, evaporate to thin air, and that Anya was still in Dinah's arms.
Honestly, what was she even doing there? They seemed to be sucked to their own world and being an alien in it wasn't the most comforting. It wouldn't be too farfetched for to expect for them to annihilate her if she bothered them.
"She has a blue one, right? Tight at the right places, doesn't reveal much, not too short. It looks casual but proper enough."
"No, I don't think that would make the right impression on the first date." Dinah contradicted, crumpling her features, which was quick to deflate Normani's spirit given that she wasn't necessarily convinced in the first place. She began dancing in place again when Anya squirmed in her arms, trying to find a comfortable spot.
"You're right." Normani agreed. She reached into the carriage for a baby bottle and uncapped it before handing it over to Dinah, and she did it mechanically as she continue to fuss over Camila's clothes.
"I got it!" Dinah exclaimed, lifting the bottle in the air and sloshing the white liquid in it instead of giving it to the whimpering baby. She mumbled a quiet apology after Normani sent her an intimidating glower and tended to Anya's needs before she eagerly shared her brightest idea. "Remember that high-waist pencil skirt thing with the matching crop top? The peach-colored one with the holes?"
Camila sent her a smirk, mouthing 'hot' as she made a show of staring at Normani from head to toe. Dinah attempted to glare at the undeterred twat but Camila was relentless, even going as far as fanning herself while her eyes remained glued on the new mother's derriere.
Thankfully, Normani interrupted their silent conversation.
"That's the one!" Normani's features brightened, gleaming with excitement as her lips stretched to portray a wide grin. She lifted her left wrist to check the time and then turned to Camia, finally addressing her perplexed friend. "What time did you say you have to meet this date of yours?"
"Not a date," Camila reminded her in a tedious breath. "And eight."
"You have close to two hours to get ready."
"But why do I have to dress up?"
"Apart from impressing your date? To spite the dad of course." Dinah shared like it was common knowledge and by the looks of it, Normani knew the secret, too. "Besides, we can't let our girl show up without looking bomb."
"How do you even know the dad will be there?" Camila challenged, lifting a brow with a haughty lilt that didn't seem to bother both women.
"It doesn't matter. He will hear about you regardless." Normani waved her off, physically lifting her off the chair and pushing her out of the kitchen. "Go shower and then call us when you're done."
"What?" Camila was utterly perplexed at what was happening and she needed someone to explain everything to her because frankly, she was feeling out of place and out of the loop. She was close to asking if her friends were members of a secret cult, spooked by eerily matching thoughts.
"Oh, we're dressing you up, and Dinah and I are buying take out at your expense to celebrate our hard work."
It was hard work, alright.
It was a commotion in Dinah's room but it wasn't the kind that the other two were expecting. In Normani and Dinah's head, they were picturing hair all over the place, an array palettes and brushes on the dresser; the image already exciting both of them.
Instead, chaos meant Camila fussing over every single thing that came close to her face.
By the five-minute mark into Dinah drying her hair, Camila was already squirming. Curling the silky, dark brown tresses was hell, that Dinah was tempted to purposely burn her friend's earlobe to keep her still. Of course, it would elicit a yelp and a string of expletives but that would teach Camila to be compliant; like a rat in those experiments.
And when it was time for her to be facing Normani, who was her make-up artist, Camila was already grumpy; airing out all sorts of aches and pains, and itches and sores. The new mother had to resort to threatening waxing her eyebrows off for Camila to stay still.
And it worked.
An hour and a half later, Normani and Dinah were staring at their masterpiece...and shoving her out the door to get rid of her.
"Thanks." Camila expressed timidly, looking towards two mischievous pairs of eyes as she stood by the open front door. She craned her neck to check on the little baby in the living room, entertained by Dinah's laptop, which was playing some nursery rhymes that was bound to be stuck in the adults' heads.
Normani was busy fixing Camila's coat, straightening the collar and when she was done, Dinah was right there, shoving a bouquet of roses to her chest. Camila's inquisitive gaze flickered between the soft, blood red, velvety petals overlapping create the intricate pattern of exquisite beauty to her friend's meaningful gaze.
"Where did you even get these?" Camila queried, tension apparent upon her furrowed brows.
Truthfully, she was a little perturbed by the fact that she didn't think of buying Lauren some flowers. But then, she was quick to contradict herself, citing reasons as the shining fact that they weren't anything but acquaintances who had...participated in hot, steamy dalliance, naked and tangled in hotel sheets.
"I went out while Mani was torturing you." Dinah smirked at the new mother, who shook her head to discourage her from reenacting Camila's rightfully called tantrums. "I used your credit card."
"Why do I need this again?" Camila wagged the bouquet in her friends' faces, completely ignoring the little detail regarding her plastic money.
"There's nothing wrong with being a gentlewoman. You got invited to a date, give her flowers. It's only logical."
"Who said anything about this being a date?" Camila protested yet again but she didn't have as much spunk as she did the first time. It was exhausting having to explain the same thing over and over and be dismissed before she could finish her sentiments. "She might even be straight!"
"If she declines, it saves you time. Drop her ass." Normani shrugged like it was nothing under the pretense that her friend had no feelings for her date. "Go."
"Knock 'em dead, Lucky! See ya!" Dinah cheered but as Camila inhaled to retort, one of them – most likely Normani – had shut the door in her face.
Giggling ensued on the other side but Camila couldn't bring herself to worry about her friends. Her hair and make-up was done, she was wearing some nice clothes and she had flowers in her hands.
Most importantly, she had a wife to meet with.
It felt like only seconds later when Camila found herself knocking on a white door of a luxury contemporary home with clean lines and open spaces in one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. She should have been more mindful of the address, knowing Salt Lake City from top to bottom; where to find the best damn bundt cake to the swankiest clubs. Still, she was focused on more important things that her easily worried mind was gnawing at like the nervous anticipation of seeing Lauren again, and if she was overdressed or underdressed.
Surely, it would be awkward to sit there as she is with Lauren in sweatpants and a hoodie. The dentist could head back to her room and change but that would be subsequent to an awkward air that would suffocate both of them further, they might as well drown.
Camila was that distracted that she didn't take notice of the cars parked in rows in the long driveway illuminated by the bright streetlamps or the much appreciated cool breeze of the early autumn night blowing at her skin. And she would continue to be when the door opened, revealing her wife in all her breathtaking glory.
Lauren was in a short, burgundy chiffon dress with her curves defined by a thin belt of gems and crystals looped around her waist. Her creamy skin was luminescent against the bold color just as her eyes sparkled amidst the dark yet subtle eyeliner traced around them while her voluminous hair flowed like a wild stream down her shoulders.
Camila was drawn to those lips, covered in a deep shade of red and if she didn't know any better, she would assume that Lauren did that for her. And perhaps, Lauren's spell was working perfectly as Camila couldn't detect the apprehension marring her forest green orbs or hear the distant chatter off to the distance.
Lauren was breathtaking and she was Camila's demise.
But when she saw the dazed look in Lauren's eyes, she just knew she got her, too. Lauren hadn't even seen what was beneath her coat.
Well done, Norminah!
Camila couldn't help but wonder if she was supposed to kiss Lauren but decided against it, noting their last few encounters. She was cursing herself at her rampant emotions, going from stern and subdued in one day to awkward and clumsy the next. And it wasn't like the dentist hinted any sort of interest in her.
As far as she was concerned, tension still loomed over them.
Although, this time, it felt like something beyond apprehension. It was more like...dare she say it, a mutual desire.
"What's up, doc?" Camila choked through her dry mouth after desperately clearing her sticky throat. "These are for you." She extended her arm and offered the flowers despite hesitation.
What was she expected to do with them if she didn't hand them over to the dentist anyway? Throw them in the bushes and hope nobody finds them in the morning?
Highly unlikely.
And when she found the delighted glint in Lauren's eyes, she knew she made the right choice.
"H-hey. Thanks! They're beautiful." Lauren dropped her head, lifting the bouquet to her nose and took a whiff. She was using it to hide the blush creeping up on her cheeks, too, but Camila didn't need to know that. "Come in!"
With a nod, Camila stepped into the threshold with adequate diligence, knowing her luck with climbing up stairs or just...walking. She waited in the grand foyer with furniture nearly as expensive as her car as Lauren gently closed the door; the chandelier hovering over them might have been worth her yearly salary.
Being a visitor, the detective was quiet, allowing her wife to take the reins. She kept her gaze on the hardwood floor as she unbuttoned her coat and when she looked up, Lauren was already flashing her a tight-lip grin, shyly rocking herself on her feet.
"Here, I'll help you." Lauren hurriedly set the bouquet on the chest cabinet nearby and carefully ushered her wife out of her large coat. She deposited it over the brimming coat rack by the door, already holding at least six jackets that Camila didn't seem to dwell on.
As she swiveled back to address her wife, Lauren took a sharp breath at what she saw. Her gaze uncaringly took Camila's figure, tracing the curve of her of her mouthwatering hips and the sliver of olive skin revealed between the crop top and her pencil skirt. Somehow, she lingered on the intricate patterns...in simpler terms, the holes to her laser cut top knowing what lied beneath them as memories of her hands and mouth roaming Camila's body overwhelmed her.
She was too consumed in the goddess before her to notice that well, said goddess was staring at her inquisitively.
"You okay?" Camila mumbled unsurely, snapping Lauren out of her lustful thoughts. "You seem...nervous?"
"I w-"
"Who was at the door, Lauren?" A familiar deep voice echoed from deep inside the house, instantly jerking Lauren in her place as she guiltily stared at Camila with wide, apprehensive eyes that were riddled with remorse.
It was a sight Camila was expecting but didn't want to see. Her heart plummeted as realization drenched her; tingling at her spine and cold in her chest. She bravely kept her gaze glued to Lauren's, numb to all her silent pleas to allow her to explain.
Even if the vile venom of betrayal seeped in her skin, poisoning her body, she would appear unfazed. She would remain undeterred even as Lauren would speak two words to acknowledge the contract they both signed in Las Vegas like she was hearing about a stranger's discovery of the best gelato in town.
She was lactose intolerant and she didn't appreciate sweets.
And she couldn't suppress the demon clamoring in her head; yelling 'lies' as it's harrowing laughter reverberated, laced with ridicule, ratting Camila to the core.
Above it all, Lauren would uphold Camila's insistent belief to never to trust anyone.
"My wife."
BASIC ENGLISH LESSONS (BEL)
#8 DEFINITELY/DEFIANTLY AND DUMB ASS VARIATIONS
Definitely: [root word: definite] without a doubt. Synonyms: certainly, surely, absolutely.
Defiantly: [root word: defiant] a manner showing resistance or disobedience. Synonyms: rebelliously, disobediently, insolently.
Diffidently: [root word: diffident] lacking confidence, restraint and reserved. Synonyms: shyly, hesitantly, insecurely, timidly.
"Defidently": non-fucking-existent!!!
"Definately": non-fucking-existent!!!
*Do not even think about trying to get creative on spelling that word.
I'm sorry but this is one of the most ridiculous mistakes that make me laugh my damn ass off while simultaneously ripping all my hair off, even nose hair (which is the most painful shit ever). I know you guys say this word at least once in a day, or once in a week if you're a native speaker. It's beyond me how anyone could say it's anything but DEFINITELY.
It's DEFINITELY, okay?! You make a character agree with another and make them say DEFIANTLY?! Like forreals, dude. 'Hey, wanna go eat with me?' 'Oh, "defiantly!"' Son of a dirty a-word b-word, man. That's the absolute worst thing you could put in terms of agreeing to something considering that shit is the opposite of the meaning you were going for.
They're not even pronounced the same. Say it with me! Def-fƏ-nit-ly and dēf-fī-Ənt-ly. Fcking searched for symbols for ya, too. "Diffidently" would have been much closer and slightly less painful.