Changing Seasons

Sixty-Six

****

Rocco sat on the bathtub's edge and watched Atira curl her hair and apply makeup. He'd been absolutely fascinated by the process. It had always been him and Dad or his grandparents or Tia Marisol and Uncle Chris. None of them cared about making sure every brush stroke was done perfectly, and each curl had just the right amount of spring to it.

Okay, that wasn't completely right because his dad spent forever shaving his face, but that was boring. His dad always did that. Watching Atira was different. He was fascinated by her because she was like a mom, but she wasn't a mom. She did mom things, or at least what Rocco imagined a mom would do. Like her hair and makeup, she smelt nice, like flowers, as a mom would.

She was nice too. He loved it when she read him stories at bedtime. Dad always tried to get away with just one book, but Atira would read as many as he wanted. And she had Jacques. Rocco understood if Jacques wasn't Atira's cat, they wouldn't have a cat there at all.

When Rocco first met Atira and saw her with his dad, he'd been pretty angry over it. It was always just them. "Me and you, bro, always and forever." He wanted his dad to tell her to return to where she came from, but he was glad he hadn't. And from what his dad had told him, she would be living with them.

They were gonna be a little family. Forever. Rocco liked the sound of that.

He watched her apply blush to her cheeks, wondering if his real mom did that too. He knew he'd had a mom, but he didn't remember her. Lisette did, but she never wanted to talk about her. His dad didn't either. Tia Marisol would just tell him and Lisette that their mom was sick. Rocco hoped whatever she had got better, and maybe someday he could see her, but Tia had told him sometimes people don't get better and stay sick.

Because his mom was sick and probably not getting better, he liked to imagine Atira was his mom. Even if he didn't know her that well.

"Are you excited for a new year?" She asked him, applying mascara to get eyelashes.

Rocco swung his legs and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," he told her in a sing-song voice.

His dad entered the bathroom and looked down at him, "You better not be bothering Atira," he told him.

Atira stopped what she was doing, "He's fine. He's not bothering me at all."

His dad wrapped his arms around her and kissed her loudly. He was always doing that. "Damn, baby, you look..."

"Gross," Rocco shouted. His dad looked over; he was mad, but Atira thought it was funny. Rocco smiled at her. "You're gross, Dad." Atira laughed.

His dad whispered something in her ear that made her giggle, and he tried to kiss her again. This time, she told him to stop. "Rocco doesn't like that."

Rocco grinned mischievously at his father, who gave him a fake mean face.

"You got your stuff ready to go to Grandma's?" His dad wanted to know.

"No," Rocco replied with a smirk.

"Bro, go get your shit ready. Goddamn." Rocco jumped up and gave a play punch to his father's thigh before skipping out of the bathroom.

Krist rolled his eyes, "That boy," he laughed, feeling up on Atira's ass.

Atira giggled, teasingly swatting his hand away. "You got plenty of time for that later," she kissed him lightly. "Let me get ready!"

Krist wrapped his arms around her waist, her back against him. "Goddamn, you're pretty." He let his teeth graze the skin of her neck, playfully biting her before allowing her to go. He stood before the mirror, ensuring his facial hair was nice and tight. Once he was satisfied that it was, he applied A&D ointment to his new tattoos before giving Atira's ass a final grab and leaving to get changed.

He dressed in the suit Atira had selected with gray and white Jordans that had been chilling in his closet for months, unworn. Atira had wanted him to wear some narrow-ass dress shoes, but he'd told her if he was going to wear a slim-fit suit, he wanted his feet to be at least comfortable.

Atira walked into the bedroom, still wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized white T-shirt. When she saw Krist, her smile was uncontainable. "Oh my god, wow!" She told him appreciatively. She'd always thought Krist was sexy, even if he did look like a fuck boy, but, wow, he cleaned up nice.

"It looks good?" He asked. Krist had worn everything oversized since he was fifteen, and form-fitting shit felt suffocating as fuck.

"Yes, oh my god, it does!" Atira gushed, stripping out of her house clothes.

"Man, I feel like my fuckin' balls are out on display," he yanked at the crotch of his pants.

She laughed, "Maybe that's what I like." Atira strode over to the closet, wearing nothing but a strapless black bra and matching Victoria's Secret cheekster panties. Atira may not have had the biggest ass, but it was round and had some jiggle to it. He had to stop himself from gawking at her because those pants were already snug enough.

She slid into her dress. It hugged her curves perfectly. Damn, she was bad. Atira then slipped on her stilettos and asked Krist to help her put the locket around her neck.

"You ready, bro?" he called to Rocco.

The little boy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his Moxie on one side, Jacques curled up on the other. He hadn't put anything together whatsoever. "Oh, sorry, Dad!" he grinned.

Kristi groaned, "Dude, cmon, let's get your stuff bagged up." He had Rocco grab a pair of pajamas and clothes for the next day and then instructed him to put his rain boots on.

****

They arrived at Bill and Linda's around six to drop Rocco off for the night. Linda took one look at Krist, immediately noticing the throat tattoo, "Ah, so that's what your fight was about," she told him as though it made sense.

"It was definitely a surprise," Atira grinned, lightly touching Krist's back.

Linda's eyes widened, Krist knew she was thinking about what a dumb ass he was, but she didn't lecture him.

"You two look amazing," she told them, "Let me take a picture." Linda ushered the couple into the living room instructed to pose them like she had done when they were teenagers.

"Whoa! Look at you!" Bill gushed as he entered the living room. He gave a huge grin. Seeing Krist dressed well and sober with Atira at his side was heartwarming. It was hard to believe this man standing before him was the same person who'd once been so strung out on meth and untrustworthy that he wasn't welcome in their home. "Atira, you truly have been a blessing in his life."

Atira's cheeks flushed. She glanced up at Krist with her pretty brown eyes, her glossy lips shining. "I'm pretty lucky myself."