The Divorcee Murder Club

Sesenta Y Siete ~ 67

               A savory aroma floats from the kitchen as steam rises from a pot on the stove. Angie is there, chopping and preparing things, her hair in a messy bun, and I like watching her when she doesn’t realize I am. Everything hurts, so I’m tucked inside a blanket on the couch, waiting for the pain medicine to kick in and drifting in and out of sleep. 

Someone knocks at the door, causing my eyes to fly open right as I am about to doze off. It might be the doctor Augusta said she would send over, and I’m hoping they can put me into a coma so I don’t have to be in so much pain. Angie goes to the door and welcomes Jackson, Alma, and Chloe into the apartment. I wasn’t expecting them, so I groan. All I want is sleep, and I’m in no shape to entertain guests.

“Holy shit. That asshole beat the hell out of you,” Jackson says.

“It’s about time someone humbles Miguel,” Alma laughs, but Jackson gives her a look. "What?” Alma shrugs at him. “I was joking.” 

Chloe studies my bruises. “Should we be worried? I haven’t met this Kay guy, yet I’m terrified of him.” 

“No. None of you need to worry about shit.” I adjust myself to sit up and growl at the pain. 

Angie rushes from the kitchen. “Easy, Miguel.” 

“I’m fine.”

“The fuck you are. I told you to lay there and relax.” 

“Well, that’s kind of hard when we have guests over.”

Alma’s gaze flashes to Jackson. “Did you hear that, babe? Miguel said ‘we.’ As in him and Angie. I still can’t get over them being together.”

I roll my eyes. “Are we in high school?”

“Don’t spoil my fun.” Alma glares. “Anyway.” She looks around, a smile blooming across her face. “Look…”

Digging into her purse, she pulls out two palm-sized squares, then presents one to Angie and another to Chloe. They gasp simultaneously and burst into squeals, then throw their arms around Alma. Meanwhile, Jackson grins proudly, hands on his hips, watching them, but I still don’t know what’s so damn funny.

“What? What is it?”

Angie's eyes are full of tears when she comes to me. “Look.”

In her hand is a black-and-white image of a tiny little nugget. I’ve never seen a sonogram before, but there is no denying that what I’m seeing is a baby.

“It’s official.” Alma beams. “We suspected I was pregnant, but now we know for sure! And the doctor said that everything looked great. She doesn’t think the baby was harmed when I was… was…” 

She trails off, and Jackson curls his arm around her. “We’re just happy, and I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy. I’m just happy.”

“Well, one thing is for sure,” I grunt, trying to get to my feet. Angie scolds me, but I bat her hands away, forcing myself to stand. “This baby is going to be so spoiled by Uncle Miguel.”

At this point, Angie knows how stubborn I am, so she hooks her arm around my waist and assists me as I walk to Jackson and Alma. I embrace them as best as possible, gritting my teeth against the ache burning across my torso and limbs. 

“So… Miguel,” Chloe clears her throat. “They told me about Evan, and I’m worried.”

“Don’t be.” I turn to her. “Everything will be alright.”

“I’m not so sure.” Chloe chews her lip. “I was at the hospital with Neil, and the detectives were there, and they asked me questions. Like they were digging. It freaked me out. They asked about Barry.”