"¿Quen es el dulce bebe?" Don Juan asked, without taking his eyes of Annie.
"The 'dulce bebe' is your daughter," I grunted, and watched Donnie go from curiousness, to stunned silence and disbelief, without even blinking his eyes. He swallowed heavily, and looked at me with his eyes wide open.
"What?!" he whispered.
"Yeah. That's the result of your love juice." I emphasized the last words and chewed on my bottom lip.
Donnie looked back at Annie, who was deeply asleep, and totally oblivious to the drama around her.
"But... Who's the mother?"
I rolled my eyes at him, and sighed.
"Hellooo?!"
"Hola, senora."
"Oh, cut the fucking crap, dimwit! I'm her mother and you are her father, and thanks to you, literally ruining the show downstairs, we need to get the fuck out of here."
Donnie frowned at me.
"You should not use language like that in front of a child."
"She's asleep now, and she doesn't even...! Whatever. Why do I even bother to keep a conversation with you? I already visualize the duct tape over your mouth, while I tie you to a pole. Now, pack you stuff!" I hissed and rolled my eyes. Then I found the suitcase and gave it to Donnie, who squinted at me for a long time.
"Don Juan doesn't practice those kind of things. Don Juan makes sweet love, that fulfills the yearning heart of a long neglected flower, and that is in desperate need of my love and attention. And la mujer hermosa should always be treated with respect and tenderness..."
"Or just get their brains fucked out by Mr. Jackson," I finished, suddenly wishing that he'll come through.
"PACK YOUR THINGS!" I yelled, and immediately regretted, because Annie woke up and started crying. But before I managed to even walk across the floor to her baby carriage, Donnie had already picked her up, and started rocking her gently in his arms. There was nothing hasty in his movements, only care and love. And even if he probably didn't quite understand that he was a father, he acted like a total pro, kissing her forehead and humming. And since Annie recognized him, she quickly calmed down, and fell into a slumber. A big smile spread across Donnie's face, when he studied his little girl, and his eyes were so filled in love, that I almost got jealous. But I only shook my head, and started packing.
Not very long after, everything was ready, and I was prepared to leave. So I walked over to Don Juan to grab Annie, but he smoothly dodged my attempt to even touch her.
"No! Don't take her," he exclaimed, with a possessive look on his face.
"But we need to go!"
"You can go ahead. Bye, bye."
I gasped loudly, and stared at him. Did I hear him right?!
"What?! I'm not leaving my daughter! Heck, I'm not even leaving you. Come on. Let me have her."
"Nu-uh," he muttered defiantly, and dodged another attempt to grab her.
"We need to leave. Now, gimme my daughter!"
"Shhh! You're waking her up again."
I felt my blood started to boil and bit the insides of my cheeks to keep calm.
"Listen carefully, schmuck. You're the man here, and you need to help me carry our stuff downstairs."
Don Juan still didn't look at me. He was zoning out everything else but Annie, just the way he did downstairs when he kissed that woman's ring. And I groaned loudly in annoyance, when I realized that I had to do everything all by myself. But after cursing and sweating, I got both the overloaded baby carriage, the suitcase, the bag and Don Juan with Annie in his arms, downstairs, and headed to the bar to talk to the owner. Then I turned to Donnie again.
"Do you speak French by any chance?"
He shook his head with a worried expression.
"This music is too loud for la princesa hermosa, we must leave," he said, hinting to the music, that still were playing Michaela's songs. Then, he turned around to walk away. But I immediately grabbed him by his collar and held him put, while cursing silently.
"You are not going anywhere, until we have our money. Capish?"
He looked down at Annie, before he glared at me and reluctantly nodded. And I slowly let go of his shirt, while I squinted back at him. What would I do if he suddenly ran off with Annie? Where would he go? Where would I go? This was a foreign country, dammit, and we'd only been here a few weeks. And since neither of us spoke French, we would be pretty doomed if we lost each other. But I chose to trust him. And just in case, to prove my point, I stuck my hand up in front of his face, and pointed at the wedding ring. Then I signed for the bartender that I wanted to speak to the owner.
"Tu veux quoi?" the middle aged man grunted.
"Money! Uh.. Dinero? No... What's it called in French...? Archy?"
I rubbed my thumb against my index and middle finger; the world wide sign for whatever currency needed.
"Argent?" he scoffed with eyes that were no longer as nice as they'd been before. But I wouldn't have any of that. I wanted what was ours!
"Give us the money for the performances, and we'll leave. Archy... Uhm. Argent por la performances, and... Uhh... Et nous... Leavous."
He stared at me with a blank, and slightly hostile, look on his face, and it made me believe that he didn't understand what I was trying to say. But just as I was about to explain a little better, he finally replied.
"Vous ne serez pas payé pour ce soir, après tout le drame que vous avez causé. mais puisque je suis un homme honnête, vous aurez le reste."
(You won't get paid for tonight, after all the drama you caused. But since I am an honest man, you'll get the rest.)
He disappeared into his office again, but returned shortly after with a white envelope. But just by looking at the thickness of it, I knew that it was barely half of all he owed us. Because the stack of money Michaela had gotten, was much bigger than that. So I scowled at him and shook my head.
"The rest. Gimme the rest."
I pointed at the envelope, and rubbed my fingers again, but he only smirked.
"Look, if you don't give us what's rightfully ours, I'll crash you goddamn bar!"
I wasn't sure if the man knew English, but something in his eyes changed into uncertainty. And to put pressure on him, I grabbed one of the empty beer bottles nearby, and prepared to throw it.
"D'accord d'accord! vous l'obtiendrez! calmez- vous."
(Alright, alright! You'll get it! Calm down.)
He reached into his pocket, picked up another stack of money and gave me about half of it. But, just to be a little evil, I shook my head again, and raised the hand with the bottle.
"Non! non! non! ici! Prends tout! juste... sors!"
(No! No! No! Here! Take it all! Just... Get out!)
He placed the whole stack of money in my hand, and shushed me on. And I smirked triumphantly, as I gave him a final salute with my hand, and then turned to leave.
Way to go, Gail! At least you have enough money to get a decent room somewhere this time. And maybe you also have enough to buy an old car, so you can get out of this country somewhat discreetly. But...
Where the fuck did Don Juan go?!?
My eyes scanned the room in panic, in search for them. And there, right in the middle of a bunch of women, was Don Juan, holding Annie in a safe grip, while everybody cooed and gave compliments to both him and our little girl. But even though a couple of the ladies obviously were trying to get his attention in rather disgusting ways, including stroking his gold wrapped behind and frontal area, Don Juan showed absolutely no interest whatsoever.
What is wrong with him? Did he suddenly turn into Michael or something?!
But unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Because, after elbowing my way through the estrogen dripping female critters, I heard the well-known Spanish accent, as he was talking to Annie. But even though he had left me despite my orders to stay close to me, it was downright adorable to watch him interact with his daughter like that.
Maybe Don Juan isn't that bad after all? It actually looks like Annie has tamed him! And even if he's pretty much useless in every other aspects, he's one hell of a good babysitter. Maybe you should keep him, Gail? Yeah... No. Start praying that Michael will come back. Or maybe... Mr. Jackson? Hmm...