Page 112 of Riding the Pine

It’s not what I expected from her. I expected her to do what so many Dominican women do and defend their husbands, to capitulate, or simply ignore the whole situation. But Mamá is very clearly pissed, despite her demure outward appearance. I can feel it coming off her in wave after wave. Plus, she has something of a homicidal glint in her eye.

“He convinced me he was done.” She picks at lint on her skirt. “He convinced me it was one woman, one time. He beggedme to give him another chance, and promised he wouldn’t cheat anymore.”

She makes an animalistic noise. “Puta madre just wanted the picture-perfect life. A magazine cut-out kind of wife who would smile and stand by his side.”

I still don’t understand the correlation with the cows.

As if she can read my mind, she covers my hand with hers. “What happened to the cows, Mija?”

It takes me a hot minute to scroll through my memory to recount the details of the story in question.

She can tell the moment when I figure out what the punchline is and nods. “Sí, Mija. I want to kill him and make strings for the lyre from his gut.”

CHAPTER 48

Scott

APRIL 1ST

“Do you want me to off him, Nieta?” Abuelita peers over her glasses. “I’m so old they can’t do that much to me if I get caught.”

It’s April Fool’s Day, so whether or not she’s joking isn’t exactly clear, but from the menacing glint in her eye, it seems she’s deadly serious.

My girl waves a dismissive hand as she scoops some kind of rice dish onto her plate. “I’ve got it.”

Abuelita shrugs. “The offer has no expiry date. And can be transferred to a new victim if the need arises.” She gives me the stink eye from across the room.

“Abuelita, if I need to be offed, Athena is more than capable of doing it herself.” I take a bite of potato salad from my plate. “And if she needs help, I know at least three people who won’t question why they need to assist her in burying my body.”

One of the men in question grunts.

We were supposed to hit Get the Fork Out, the local pie shop for lunch, but Megan—the owner—told us it would take a while for food to be ready as Susie, one of her workers, was putting out a fire in the kitchen.

The acrid smell, and the fact we’d have to wait, sent us right back to Casa de la Peña to raid Gabriella’s well-stocked fridge.

Abuelita points her fork at me. “Did you know that in Roman mythology Athena punished Medusa for being raped by Poseidon in her temple? She was more pissed about the defiling of her temple than anything else.”

I nod. “I don’t buy that the punishment was a way of protecting her from men, though.” Controversial hot take on the goddess Athena, perhaps. “And in Greek mythology, she punished Arachne for being a better seamstress than she was. I’m well aware of the force of nature that is your granddaughter, Abuelita. And I have no plans to hurt her.”

“Mamá, leave the boy alone.” Gabriella pats my shoulder as she walks past on her way to a seat at the far end of the table. Gang’s all here, well, except Alonso who has been suspiciously absent from the scene for a while now. I wonder where his body is and if anyone will ever find it.

My glasses slide down my nose but I’m too hungry to push them back up, so they’ll have to sit there until I’ve crammed every last morsel of this potato salad into my mouth. I think they’ve laced it with crack cocaine.

I’m serious. It’s the most delicious thing to ever—wait, the second most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.

“You want to take a breath there, Gizmo?” Athena’s smirking at me, her rice-filled fork poised halfway to her mouth.

I shake my head. Once my mouth is mostly empty, I attempt to speak. “If I die, I’ll go with something delicious in my mouth.” The innuendo was accidental but draws a giggle from my sweet Bright Eyes all the same.

It’s only been a couple weeks; it’s early days but I’m starting to see glimmers of her come back into everyday life. And so far, she hasn’t kicked me out of her place or murdered me.

The police never came to her door for me, either. Nor have they gone to the hockey house. I have a feeling my best friends made the whole situation disappear.

Tabitha—the UCR hockey community gossip column—reported that Brock had a fractured eye socket, jaw, and a few broken ribs. It’s not as much damage as I wanted to do, not as much as he deserved, but it was apparently enough for him not to come after me.

Tabitha reported it as a mugging, a random attack in the middle of the street, right on the heels of Athena’s attack. To her credit, Tabitha hasn’t reported a single word about Athena’s rape. I think if she did, the boys would go after her with the enthusiasm of a dog hearing the word ‘walk.’

“Scottie?” Athena bumps my foot under the dining table.

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