Kandy sat back from him and folded her arms across her stomach. If he went by the change in her position alone, Miguel might have thought she was upset about his prying. But when he looked at her face, he was met with the sunniest of smiles. It wasn’t one of those artificial masks of a smile to hide her upset either. This was genuine and the complete opposite of what she had displayed just a few minutes ago when trying to wrap the rather cruel behavior of her grandmother, Amina, up in a civilized-looking box. Had she been anyone else, he would have assumed she was about to make some smart-ass joke at his expense over his rant earlier against the unchecked greed and influence of organized religions. Instead, his head tilted to the side as he tried to guess what the girl who avoided giving definitive answers about her own culture and beliefs thought of what he said.
“Sandy was right. Zo would have loved you. She really would have. The shit you two would be talkin’ about…”
It wasn’t at all what he expected, though it was a nice sentiment to hear, which made him more curious about the woman who raised her and what she taught Kandy in the short time she was in his little witch’s life. “She was Cuban?”
Kandy nodded. “Catholic, too. Though towards the end she got closer to the Pentecostal side of things.” He frowned over the last part and she rubbed his chest again. “When you’re dyin’, you’ll give time to anybody preachin’ about healin’, I think.”
“Did it come between you?”
“We got to a place where I made the decision not to let it.” She smiled at her Scorpio’s tender tone he used when asking such a sensitive question. “I knew it wouldn’t be forever.”
Reaching up to caress the side of her face, Miguel leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “So, we’d be scrappin’ at the dinner table, huh?”Continue reading “Kandy and Miguel #9: The Park, Part Five.”