Changing Seasons

Fifty-Eight

****

Krist pulled up to Marisol's just after noon. The driveway and street outside her home were lined up with cars.

"You want to come in and say 'hi'?" Kristi asked as he parked the car.

"Sure, why not?" Atria shrugged, following Rocco to the front door.

Marisol had answered the door before Rocco could knock, "Oh, lookatchu!" she cooed. To Rocco's displeasure, Krist had dressed Rocco in a red flannel shirt with black slacks and a bowtie, his hair combed neatly to the side. This had gotten the attention of the older women gathered in the family room. "Oh, hermoso."

Kristi was probably a bit biased, but Rocco was one cute ass kid.

"Aye, wassup foo!" a voice boomed from the dining room. Fernando sat around a table with a few other men, uncles, and cousins, drinking.

Krist took Atira by the hand, leading her to where Fernando sat. "Aye, you finally got that shit off your ankle," he laughed.

"Finally, man," he laughed, pouring a shot of tequila and tossing it back. "You want one?" he asked Krist.

Krist glanced at Atira and shook his head. "Naw, bro. I'm good." It wasn't that he didn't want one. He just knew taking shots with Fernando would likely trigger him into using again, like old times.

Fernando's eyes traveled to Atira, "That your girl?" He nodded in her direction.

"Yeah, bro, Atira."

"That's what's up," he said, stroking his mustache.

Krist glanced at Atira, "This muhfucker is Fernando." Atira smiled shyly, giving a small wave.

Fernando smiled, exposing a gold tooth, "Damn, he hella lucked out with you. What do you see in this ugly ass fool?" He teased.

Krist caught a glimpse of a smile forming at the corners of Atira's mouth. Krist's eyes flashed dark as he wrapped an arm around Atira's thin shoulders, pulling her tight against him. He knew Fernando was a flirt and fucking around, but at the same time, he also saw Atira's little hidden smile and flushed cheeks.

Krist had been cocky as fuck when he was young, but his game didn't hold a candle to Fernando. Sure, he was married, but he loved women, and they loved him. The dude oozed charisma despite his rough appearance.

Krist laughed, trying to hide his jealousy, "Shit, for real. I dunno what she sees in my ass."

"Stop!" She giggled, playfully swatting at him.

Fernando rose to his feet, "You wanna come out back and smoke, dawg?" He asked, sliding open the back door.

Krist planted a wet kiss on the side of Atira's face, "I'll be right back, baby," he told her before she could say anything and followed Fernando to the patio.

Atira searched for Rocco or Marisol, uncomfortable in a house filled with people she didn't know.

Before she could locate either of them, an elderly woman crossed paths with her. "You must be Krist's girlfriend," She said, her accent thick, "I'm Rocco's grandmother, Gladys."

****

Fernando lit a blunt, staring at the sliding glass door as Atira walked away. "Damn, she's hella bad, dawg."

Krist shot him a stern look, "C'mon, bro. That's my girl, dawg."

Fernando took a hit of the blunt, passing it over to Krist. "My bad," he laughed. "I take it y'all serious?" He nodded as he hit it, holding the smoke in. "I get it. Good to see you getting your shit together and settling down."