Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors Book 2) (14 page)

“Oh…” she opened her mouth, her tongue resting heavily on her molar, her eyes closed as she tried to curb her fury. “Not that it's any of your business anyway, but I can assure you, he is a
real
man. I have irrefutable evidence.”

“Don't say it, Mari,” Ray choked. “I don't want to know.”

“Oh, really? Then why did you bring it up?” Marithé demanded, unrelenting. “You can't call me a
puta
one minute and then suggest my lover's impotent in the next.”

“It's just I heard… you know, that he lost his manhood or something,” Ray sounded more uncomfortable than he'd been in all their shared existence.

“Uh, no,” she shot back sarcastically.
Lost his manhood! Not likely. He filled me up just right.
She refrained from saying so to her cousin, however.
But the poor guy did say he was sterile… Still, rumors are something else.

“Mari,” Ray whined in frustration, “what will the family say?”

He sounded desperate, and she knew he'd run out of arguments. After a lifetime of kowtowing to Ray and his parents, being treated more like a slave than a relative and accepting their cruelty for fear of being tossed out on the streets, her patience had finally been exhausted. She'd never stood up to him this way before, and it felt good. As Jorge always told her, it was far over-due and feeling assured that both Jorge and Jack would be proud of her, she decided not to stop.

“I don't give a damn what they say,” she replied. “In fact, you tell me, Raymundo, when anyone other than you has acted in the slightest bit like family to me? Yes, I was allowed to live in their home, sharing the one bedroom maid's quarters at the back of the house with my mother. How many years did I sleep in the hallway, Ray?” she demanded.

“All of them,” he admitted tightly.

“Yes. And who came to my school presentations? Who came to my graduation?”

“No one,” he admitted, sounding sour. “But they all came to your wedding.”

“They came to the
reception,
Ray. They came for the food. You remember, the whole 'never turn your back on a free meal' and all that,” she barked as she purged herself of the secrets she held inside, the resentment. “Why the hell do you think I married as soon as I turned eighteen? I wasn't pregnant, you know. Don't get me wrong, I loved Jorge and thankfully, he loved me. He loved me enough that he pushed for us to marry as quickly as we did just so I could escape from you all!”

He acknowledged the truth of her words with a sigh.
I'm sure he's unhappy being dragged down memory lane from the street view I was so accustomed to, but at least he isn't trying to deny anything.
And she remembered how Jorge had felt about her tasteless cousin and wretched family.
Oh, he was so upset to learn he was being assigned to an attachment with Ray. Thankfully, Sam was there… and Jack.

“While we're on the subject, tell me which of our saintly family members came to help? Who offered comfort to me or the kids after Jorge's death? Who opened their home to us, or even took the time to pay their respects by attending the memorial?” She was determined to hold someone accountable. “Ray, do you remember how many people brought a meal to help us out? I do.”

“No one,” he sighed again. “But remember, they live in McAllen, Mari and -”

“They didn't even call, Raymundo. They didn't send a card or text. Once I married Jorge, in the family's mind I ceased to exist. I think it's time I return the favor.”

“What do you mean?” Ray sounded odd.
I'm sure he can't believe I'm strong enough… to say this, let alone, do it.

“I mean it's high time I stopped caring what they think of my relationship with my boyfriend, okay?”

Ray grunted.

“And just for the record, the
only
people who went out of their way to be there for me and for Elena and Andres were Jack's parents. They gave me a job, they're great to the kids, and they like me being with their son. I think, from now on, they can be my family.”

“But, Mari…” Ray seemed reluctant.

“Yes?” she asked sharply.

“I was always there. What about me?” And she couldn't deny the hitch in his voice that belied the crack in his cold exterior.
Could he really have feelings under all that hatred?

“Ray, if you want to be a part of our lives, then you need to accept that Jack is a part of our family now too. You'll have to be kinder… to him, to me, and mostly, to the kids. Is that clear?”

“I have to think about this,” he mumbled. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Sleep on it,” she replied, surprised that she really didn't care either way. “That's a good idea.”

Ray hung up without another word.

Marithé flung herself into a kitchen chair, banging her shin on the table leg.

“Ay! Damn it!” She rubbed the sore spot, a red welt that would become a bruise already start to show.
As if I didn't have enough on my mind.
Shaking her head, she abandoned her previous thoughts of cleaning, at least until later. For now, she had more pressing matters which required serious consideration.

When Jack knocked on the peeling and ragged door of Marithé's first floor apartment, the result inside was a mad and high-pitched scrabble. Two voices quarreled in squeaking tones, almost indistinguishable from one another. Then there was a whining wail, after which the door flew inward. Elena, looking smug, stood before Jack, her hair disheveled, while Andres hid his face in the corner and rubbed his head.

He raised one eyebrow. “What did you do?” he asked the little girl.

“Nothing,” she replied, feigning innocence.

“Nuh uh,” Andres chimed in, tattling. “She hitted me with the block.” He pointed to the offending wooden cube, still rocking on the carpet before it settled with a large yellow A, pointed upward.

“No I didn't,” she insisted, shooting a mean expression her brother's way. “He's trying to get me in trouble.”

He shushed the quarreling children. “Andres, she
hit
you with the block, not 'hitted', okay?”

The little boy bobbed his head, repeating the word, “Hit.”

“Very good,” Jack praised and then groaning, he knelt before the disgruntled little girl. “Elena,” he began.

She stomped her foot once against the floor, harrumphing, stubbornly holding on to her declaration. “I didn't hit or hitted him.”

He gave her a patient look. “Elena, honey, that's not true. I can see clearly enough where you struck Andres's head and which block you used to do it with.”

She stuck her lip out in a pout as she glanced over her shoulder, trying to see what clued him in.

“You know, Elena, it's one thing to do something wrong,” Jack explained, “but lying about it makes it worse, honey. I want to be able to trust you, but I can't if you're always telling stories. Do you understand?”

“Why does everyone always believe him?” she whined.

“I'm sure they believe him when he's telling the truth and believe you when you are. Now, Elena, I want you to apologize to your brother. He's your family, and family should stick together.”

She shot a sidewise glance at Andres, who stood, arms across his chest, glaring at his sister.

“Sorry,” she offered in a grumpy, insincere voice.

“It's not okay,” he shot back, mean-mugging her.

“Okay, you two, that's enough,” Jack ordered, shaking his head indulgently. “Andres, I have a task for you, since Elena opened the door for me. I want you to build me the biggest block tower you can manage. Can you do that? Can you stack them as tall as you are?”

The boy considered, his expression softening the longer he pondered. “Uh huh,” he agreed.

“I can built it higher than he can,” Elena sneered.

“Build,” Jack gently corrected then heaved himself to his feet, grabbing the wall for much-needed support. He placed his hand on Elena's back, escorting her to the other side of the room. Once he was sure Andres was out of earshot, he whispered to the girl, “I know you can. You know how I know?”

Elena gave him a wide-eyed stare, eyebrows lifted as she shook her head, giving a negative response. Her expression made Jack smile.
She's so cute, even when she's being naughty.

“I know because you're bigger than he is and older too. But there will come a day when he'll be bigger than you. If you bully him now, make him dislike you, you're going to be unhappy when he's stronger than you are. Besides, like I said, you have to look out for family, not cut them down. Now listen, honey, I have a task for you too, okay?”

“Okay,” she blinked, looking unsure as to whether she was still sad or if she was excited with getting a task of her own.

“My mom went to the doctor today and got some bad news,” Jack began. “Don't worry, she's going to be okay, but she has to take some medicine and she doesn't like it.”

“I don't like medicine either,” Elena whispered, completely enthralled in their obvious secret.

“Well, then you understand,” he acknowledged, watching the little girl mouth the word 'yes' as she bobbed her head again. “Good, I knew you would. So, do you think you could make her a card? You know, something pretty, with lots of flowers?” He waved in the direction of the coffee table, where a messy pile of construction paper and crayons threatened to overflow onto the floor.

“Okay,” she agreed, anxious to begin.

Jack almost began to feel proud of his handling of the situation, when he happened to notice Elena sticking her tongue out at her brother. Thankfully, Andres had his back to her and didn't notice.
Maybe I didn't miss out on much, not having siblings,
he thought as he headed into the kitchen.

Thoughts of domesticity were driven right from his head at the sight of a generous female rump, tightly encased in a pair of electric pink fitted sweatpants, emerging from under the table.
Wow. Sir Mix-a-Lot had it right,
he thought, admiring the luscious curve. The temptation to run a proprietary hand over the enticing sight nearly broke his willpower.

To distract himself, he cleared his throat. “Ahem. Marithé?”

She jumped, hitting her head on the table. “Ow!” A string of Spanish curses emerged with her, as she rubbed a spot in the vicinity of her left temple.

“Sorry, are you all right?” Jack grasped her hand and lifted her to her feet. “Take a seat. Let me get you some ice.”

“Settle down, Jack,” she snapped, waving him off of her. “Stop fussing. I've done worse all on my own. I'm fine.”

“Okay,” he replied, noticing the similarity in his reaction towards the beauty and the one Elena had had in towards him. He tried to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his face.

Hissing slightly, somewhat distracted as she fingered the already noticeable bump on her head, Marithé asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” his train of thought had hopelessly derailed, and all he could manage was, “the kids let me in.”

She raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “I'll have to speak with them.”

“About letting me in?” Jack asked with uncertainty.

“Yes. I mean, no,” Marithé waved her hands in front of her face as though she were trying to wipe away the confusion that had set in. “I mean, they know better than to open the door. They're supposed to come get me so I can answer it.”

Jack felt silly that he hadn't put two and two together. “Right.”

Marithé grinned, rose from her chair and turned, tossing the uncooked macaroni she'd retrieved from under the table into the waste bin. “So why are you here?”

“We need to talk,” he said simply. “I understand why you got upset the other day, but… that wasn't the end, not for me. Look, I need to talk to you about a few things.”

She glanced into the living room before she turned her attention back to him. “Talk fast,” she urged. “I predict you have about six minutes before pandemonium ensues.”

“Okay,” he replied.
Hmmm, I gotta get used to family life, especially if I'm blessed with all I'm hoping for.
“Like I said, I understand why you got upset about…what happened between us, it was… overwhelming. That's why I gave you a few days to yourself… so you could think. But I'll be damned, Marithé, if I let you go without some better reason than your irrational guilt. I think we belong together. I want you and I hope… No, I
know
you want me too. So we jumped the gun a bit, that's okay. I mean, it's not like we weren't headed that direction anyway, right?”

She sat blinking at his rapid delivery. “I…uh… okay, well. There's some truth in what you're saying, but 'jumped the gun' doesn't even come close. Don't forget, Jack. Jorge hasn't even been gone a year.” She raised her hand, silencing him before he spoke. “Yes, I saw us as potentially having a future together, but not for a long time… probably not for another year or so.”

Now Jack was left startled. “Do you honestly think we could have managed to wait that long?” he demanded.

She replied with a nod. “Of course, I do. You're a pastor's son, so surely you know about… self-control.”

“Well, yes, I suppose, but… years?”

She gave him a look that condemned his entire sex, and then sighed. “I don't have a moral leg to stand on, do I? After all, I'm the one who started it.”

“If I were interested in assigning blame,” Jack responded carefully, “which I'm not, because that would imply we did something wrong when we didn't, then I'd have to say it lies about equal. We both wanted to make love.” She flinched, but he pressed on. Facts were facts, after all. “We both knew the time wasn't right, and we both chose to drink more than we knew was wise. The result… was not a crime, Mari.”

“But it was a sin, Jack. How can you even argue that?” She met his eyes, a deep flush staining her cheeks. “Adultery is one of the Ten Commandments. I know you're not Catholic, but that's a mortal sin.”

Jack smiled. In his mind, he rubbed his hands together. “You're wrong,” he said. “What we did was not adultery, not at all. He laid his palm on her arm, then drew it down and laced his fingers through hers, leading her to the table and urging her into a chair.

“Jack…”

“Hey, let me just spell this out for you, okay? Please, Mari, just listen to me for a minute. I'll let you say whatever you want when I'm done.” He waited until her consent came in the form of a nod.
Huh, she almost looks… a bit relieved.
“Adultery means when you…” he glanced at the living room. The kids were still absorbed in their tasks. “You have sex with someone who's married to someone else.”

“I know what adultery means, Jack.”

“Then you also know that's not the case with us. I realize being single isn't part of your thought process, but it's a fact, honey. You're not married. You're a widow and that means it's impossible for us to commit adultery together.”

She nodded. “But it's still…”

“The term,” he said, laying his fingers over her lips, “if you must have one, is fornication. Since you're talking Old Testament law, do you know what the 'penalty' for fornication was?”

She looked at him, hazel eyes wide.

“The couple caught fornicating must get married. That's it. Check Exodus 22:16.” He lifted his hands up and shrugged, as if to say 'no big deal.'

Marithé blinked. “That's a penalty?”

“Only if you don't like the person you were caught fornicating with,” he winked at her and her eyes lit up as she tried to mask her smile. “It was supposed to discourage casual sex, but honey, timing aside, this was far from casual. At least, it was for me.” His question was there in the weight of the silence.

“I've never done… casual,” she said, looking a bit pink again. “In fact, until the other day, I've never done… unmarried.”

This time Jack's eyes widened. “You were only with Jorge?”
I should have known. That explains so much.

She nodded. “He was my high school sweetheart, one of Ray's entourage. The only decent man in the bunch, I might add. We got together my junior year and married right after I graduated. And I wore… white… to my wedding.” Her blush deepened into an attractive crimson. “I feel like a scarlet woman now. But, at least now, you can see why waiting, even years… doesn't seem impossible to me.”

“I had no idea,” Jack admitted. “You're so… so lovely and kind. I would have thought… well most people don't really wait anymore. But it all fits.”
Why didn't I realize before? It's so obvious.

“I didn't want to end up like my mother,” she said tersely, her eyes skating away. “I was a good girl, no matter what anyone said, and I was determined to prove it.”

“You're still a good girl, Marithé,” he replied, lifting her hand to his lips. “You've only gone to bed with two men. One you were married to, and one you're about to marry.”

Both delicate eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “Aren't you rushing things a bit?” she demanded, meeting his eyes at last. “We're not engaged.”

“That can change any time you decide to say yes, Mari.”

She looked a little stunned.

“Will you?” His heart began to pound as he swallowed a dry lump in his throat. His voice, when he spoke, emerged as a croak. “Will you marry me?” Once the question was asked, the rest flowed out with ease. “I love you very much. I love your kids too. Can't we try to be a family, honey?”

She shook her head. “Is this really happening? Are you serious?”

“Honey, I'd get down on one knee and all that, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get back up again.” He smiled warmly at her, all of his hope radiating outward.

She gave an uncomfortable giggle and said, “I… care for you. You know I do. In fact, I…” this time it was her turn to gulp. “I love you too.” Glorious warmth spread through him at her shy admission. “But, Jack, it's too soon.”

“Is that because you're not ready, or because of some arbitrary time limit?” he demanded. “Because, I have to say, there's another way of looking at this, honey.”

“What's that?” she wondered, and her posture spoke of both disbelief and curiosity.

“Since we are quoting Old Testament law, when a man dies…” Pain clouded her features and he squeezed her hand in apology, “it's the responsibility of the oldest brother to marry the widow and take care of her. And before you get any funny ideas, responsibility is only the smallest part of what I feel for you.”

“I'm sure that's true, but Jorge had no brothers.”

He shook his head. “Wrong again. See, we're brothers; brothers-in-arms: Jorge, Mike, Sam and I… even that jackass cousin of yours. We guarded each other's backs and in some ways, what we went through together, it's made us closer than blood. Not only was I the squad leader, but I'm the oldest, and luckily for you, I just happen to love you.”

“Oh, Jack,” Marithé sighed softly, tears filling her eyes.

“I honestly don't think Jorge would disapprove. He'd want to know you and the kids had someone looking out for you,” he professed. “He'd want you to be happy.”

“You're right about that,” she admitted. “Say, how do you know all these obscure points of Bible lore, anyway?”

“Honey,” he replied, “You're looking at the two-time Bible quizzing state champion. I've even been to nationals. You want to know some tiny, offbeat reference in scripture, I'm your man.”

She giggled. “That right?”