Smoke and Mirrors (DE)

65. Happy birthday CG

"Hello Joseph— how are you?" Amelia asked with a faint smile as she embraced Joseph in a motherly hug, beckoning him to come into extravagant Spanish villa.

It had been a week since the ambush— since Al was arrested and Joseph almost lost his life. It had been a slow healing process, not being able to talk and having to keep all of your thoughts trapped inside your head. Grace had also been keeping an extremely tight leash on Joseph but she'd been bed ridden the past couple days enabling Joseph to sneak away to come speak with Amelia. The first thing he wanted to do upon regaining his voice is talk with her.

"I'm— better," Joseph said as he followed her through the large home to the dining area, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Aw you poor thing," Amelia said looking back at him with a sympathetic look hearing his voice. "How is Grace and the baby— anything yet?"

"They're both good— Cataleya still isn't here yet," He said with a hasty chuckle.

Their little girl was already giving the new parents a run for their money. Grace was now forty weeks— full term. They'd been trying everything to get Cataleya to come— sex, eating spicy foods and dates, exercising, bouncing on the exercise ball and still nothing. Grace was now in an unbearable amount of discomfort trying to continue to carry their seven pound six ounce baby in her petite five foot two inch frame.

They'd tried going to Graces doctor to see if she could get induced but theres currently a nationwide shortage on Pitocin— a drug used to induce labor, and if not in absolute dire need, they're not administering it; meaning, Cataleya had a week and a half left and if she doesn't arrive on her own by 42 weeks only then she'd be forcefully evicted.

The new parents were ready and anxious. Their hospital bags were packed, Cataleyas diaper bag, her car seat was buckled in the back of Graces new Range Rover, her room was ready and the massive mansion had been baby proofed— they were just waiting on her.

"How's Al?" Joseph asked as they both took seats at the dining table.

Amelia picked up the pack of Virgina Slims off the table, taking one of the slim white cigarettes out and lighting it. Joseph had never seen Amelia smoke before and never took her for the type, but she'd also just lost her husband, son, and source of income within a week.

"Old habit," Amelia said, feeling Joseph's concerning stare as she lit it. "I just do it every once in a while," She said, taking a small drag and blowing smoke between her red painted lips. "He's fine— you know him. He wanted me to have you call him,"

"Call him?" Joseph asked.

Amelia nodded sliding her phone across the table to Joseph as she took another puff. "He has a phone,"

Joseph took the phone— a number already pulled up waiting to be dialed. He excused himself from the table and dialed the number, listening to it ring.

"Al—," Joseph spoke as soon as he answered.

"Heard you took one to the neck— how you doin?"

Joseph let out a hasty chuckle. "I'm good— I'm doing better. How you holdin up?"

"Ehhhh," Al said, sounding as if he were stretching. "Gettin comfortable," He snickered callously.

The line fell silent for a few moments, both men deep in their own thoughts.

"We gone bring you home don't even worry about it—," Joseph started.

"It ain't no comin home for me now— sad things have to be this way," Alvaro said after a moment, his voice solemn. "The flesh of my own flesh and blood," His tone holding such denial.