Daughter of the Mafia

Ask for Forgiveness Later: Part 6

The intoxicating smell of deep fried tortillas and meat reached Jaci's nose the moment she stepped in the house. Her stomach gurgled in appreciation, and she dumped her bags on the couch.

"Mama," she called, hurrying to the kitchen, "are you making flautas?"

There her mom stood, a decorative apron on over her work clothes. She put down the spatula to hug Jaci. "Feliz cumpleaños, hija."

Jaci looked at the salsa and chips and guacamole and tacos and little meatballs and empanadas all laid out on plates. "Did you take the day off work to make all this?"

"Only the afternoon."

Jaci hugged her again. "I love you."

Mrs. Rivera wiped her face, leaving a smudge of flour behind, and returned to the skillet. "Come. Eat. Amanda too," she added, spotting Amanda as she came in behind Jaci.

"Yes!" Amanda grabbed a plate and began spooning food on it. "I love your birthday, Jaci."

For once Jaci agreed. She piled on a heaping of meatballs, knowing Cesar's bus would arrive any moment and he would eat the rest.

The evening turned rather festive, with music and sombreros and too much chocolate. By the time she and Amanda went up to her room, a warm contentment had replaced the angst in her heart.

"Okay." Amanda threw open the door to Jaci's closet. "It's time to get you packed."

"I'm ready." Jaci gestured to the suitcase she'd hauled up the stairs.

"None of this is fashionable enough for Europe," Amanda said, eyeing the items with one eyebrow arched sharply upward.

"Half of them are your clothes," Jaci said.

"Yeah, and I gave them to you because they were out of style. Pack what you want. I'll pack clothes for both of us."

Jaci's phone rang, and she nearly fell in her effort to twist and grab it. She'd already heard from Seth and a few aunts and uncles. With any luck . . .

Yes. Ricky's name scrolled across the screen. Taking a deep breath, she sat down at her desk and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he said, sounding breezy and carefree. "How's your day been?"

"Great," Jaci said. She glanced at Amanda and mouthed, "Be right back." Then she left the room, closing herself in Seth's room. "Just hanging out with Amanda."

"Happy birthday, Jace. Sorry I couldn't be there."

She gritted her teeth, not wanting to bring up the sore subject. Because he could be here, really. His job at the auto shop was pretty flexible and he wasn't in school. "Yeah," she said instead. "I miss you."

"What are you and Amanda doing?"

"We just ate a bunch of really awesome Mexican food. Now she's making sure the clothes I have are suitable for Europe."

Ricky paused before responding, and she knew from the hesitation that he hadn't warmed up to the idea of her leaving yet. "Where are you going again?"

"I told you already. Switzerland." Jaci traced her fingers over an embroidered flower on the quilt on Seth's bed. "Zürich." He'd already asked this a dozen times. His inability to remember struck Jaci as a refusal to accept that she was actually going.

"And you really feel like that's necessary? Things are so bad at home you have to leave the country?"

Her guilt over not revealing the truth was easily replaced by irritation. "I'm barely coping. I need this. Which you would know if you were here." Oh, ouch. She winced. She hadn't meant to blurt that out.