Page 87 of Big Britches

“I hope you know it’s more than just a pep talk. It’s true. All of it. If Titus decides to run and gets beat, well, so be it. We’ll all just pack up and move to Macon. Or maybe Atlanta.”

Pedro winced. “He would hate that.”

“Yeah, me too. I think we’re stuck here.”

“It’s not so bad. I may have to work for you, though, to maintain my visa.”

“If I could afford to hire you, I would in a minute. But you belong outside. That’s where your passion is. Something will come along, you’ll see.”

“I hope so. Titus’s muse or not, if I don’t get a sponsor soon, I’ll be back in Mexico before you can say… booty call.”

Barb’s brow furrowed with bemusement. “What on earth?”

“Never mind. It’s a dumb joke.” Pedro reached for his wallet. “I’m going to pay you for the rest of the month. It’s the least I can do for leaving on such short notice.”

He extended a handful of cash, and Barb pushed it back toward him. “No. You’ll do no such thing. Ever since you two met, you’ve barely been here a couple nights a week. If anything, I owe you.”

Pedro hesitated, uncomfortable with her charity. Finally, he caved. “OK,” he said, “but I’m leaving the television. Titus has three. I don’t need it. Maybe you can raise the rental price by including it for the next tenant. Deal?”

She smiled. “Deal.”

They made a quick sweep of the room to see if he was forgetting anything before Pedro zipped up his luggage.

“I think that’s all.”

Pedro carried both suitcases, and Barb followed him down the stairs.

“Thank you again for everything,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I’m going to miss our morning coffee chats.”

“Me too.”

He stopped at the front door, putting the bags down to embrace her.

Barb returned the hug, squeezing him reassuringly. “Just take a deep breath and keep calm. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

“I’m trying. All I wanted to do was work hard and build a life here in the States. Especially now, in Spoon, with Titus.”

They parted. Barb reached out, cupping his cheek softly. “Titus will figure out a way to make it all work. If there’s one thing I know, he’s determined. Once he sets his mind to something, he’s as stubborn as a pit bull. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“I’ll try not to.” Pedro smiled. “I promise. You’re the best.”

He picked up the bags, and Barb opened the door for him. Outside it stood a sheriff’s deputy, his hand reaching for the doorbell. He was a tall man, crisply uniformed, with mirrored sunglasses.

“Are you Pedro Torres?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

“Then you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

Twenty

“Arrested?! How?”

Barb could feel Titus’s ire radiating through the telephone line. She twisted the phone cord, contemplating ways to diffuse the situation. She was angry, too, but she spoke calmly and clearly. “Silas let him go, so he came here to get his belongings to move in with you. I helped him pack and was walking him out the door when Junior showed up and took him away.”

“For what? Getting fired?”

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