Seeds of Tomorrow

35

Thank god for Menudo Victor thought to himself as he ate lunch in his work truck, fighting with one hell of a hangover. Normally he was a beer drinker and never had a hangover but that fucking tequila did it. He was honestly surprised the server hadn't cut him off. it wasn't her fault though, he'd been the one ordering shot after shot after shot.

He felt humiliated to know that he'd broken down and cried in front of everyone. Now, he vaguely remembered doing it but had blown it off as nothing, until his phone had blown up that morning with worried texts from Lissette and several videos and memes about the drunk tio that cries from Rocco.

"Your new name gonna be Lil Frankie," Rocco had teased.

Victor could feel his face redden from more than the extra spicy hot sauce he had poured into the Menudo.

"I was that bad?" Victor wrote, recalling the many times he'd seen Uncle Frankie sobbing.

With Frankie, it was expected that he would get so shit-faced one or more of the following would happen: he would start a fight, usually with one of his brothers; he would cry; he would fall; or he'd piss himself. Sometimes he would do all of the above. His poor wife would try to make sure he got some food in his belly in hopes that he would simply pass out but it wasn't always successful.

His Tio's antics were so ridiculous that it had become a joke amongst everyone else in the form of randomly wailing "Mi nino!" the way Frankie had when Cisco finally got caught up by the feds. Pops had nailed the howl with Rocco being a close second.

"Nah, nobody is QUITE as bad as Frankie but you did ask me if you were ugly lmao. Of course, I told you hell yeah you were lol," Rocco replied.

Victor followed up with a string of laugh-crying emojis followed up with "Mi niiiiiino."

"Don't forget bingo tonight with GMA," Lissette texted, "You're being voluntold :)."

Victor groaned to himself, it wasn't that he had anything else to do that night but fuck, bingo with his chismosa of a grandmother sounded anything but pleasant. He hated going, his dad had even used it as a form of punishment. Didn't clean the house? Fucked around in school? Guess you're going to bingo.

Not only was Gladys very serious about the bingo, but she also shit-talked everyone who wasn't at her table. Namely another old bingo lady, Rhonda. According to Gladys, the old biddy was out trying to steal everyone's man, even if they weren't actually their men. Gladys' beef with Rhonda had been going on for nearly twenty years and most likely until one of them passed.

"I hate you so much for that," he told his cousin.

"Shut up. I am making Rocco come too. Plus you're gonna make Gma so happy!"

Victor replied with a string of middle fingers before setting his cell phone in the glove box. He started thinking about Raquel and the house...he felt guilty having her evicted but he'd worked so hard to be in a position to buy it for his family and now she was there, without him, playing house with her fucking sancho.

He'd consulted his lawyer about his legal rights and was told so long as he followed the legal guidelines to eviction he absolutely could. In fact, he had put PTO for all of Wednesday to be able to head to the courthouse and begin the process.

Additionally, he planned on taking back the Surburban. Her new man had a car of his own and if she needed one of her own, well her ass could buy one.
Victor took a long swig off his bottle of mandarin Jarrito's, thinking for a moment. Since he would be headed to bingo, he may as well try to take it back. Lissette could drive him over there so he could demand his keys or he would report it stolen. The title was solely in his name. What was Raquel going to do?