Urquia

Chapter 2 : The airport beast god.

Andrea POV

Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’m trying—and failing hard—at cleaning my house as best I can. My parents are coming to visit after I haven’t seen them in like... ten years maybe more. They are people on a mission, so they travel a lot and love helping people. My dad made us move every few years to poor countries, where they helped build houses and other infrastructure almost for free before helping the communities develop businesses.

My parents taught us everything from mechanics to carpentry, and even how to shoot weapons. I'm basically a mix of MacGyver and the A-Team, and I love it. They haven’t had a chance to meet my kids in person—only online. A war or a strange disease always stopped them from coming to Spain, where I’ve taken root and made a family of my own.

I’m not Spanish. I was officially born in what you call now Venezuela, but I haven't been back to my own country since I was two, so I have a really weird mix of cultures.

I truly believe that because of how they raised me, I’ve managed to survive all this struggle. Even at my worst, with God’s mercy, I endured it all. He/She gave me all the strength and determination I have. Yes, I believe there's a Divine being watching over us; I have to believe it after Him/Her guarding my kids and me for so long. I’ve seen its power in my parents' missions.

When Cris and I made the decision to act and fight against evil, we saw it—that special protection, that blessing, as if we had angels working with us and for us. When hell broke loose, we became stronger, better, faster, smarter, and we had an abnormal amount of luck. We couldn’t be here otherwise. I don't know, I just feel it.

My parents finally decided they were ready to retire now and believe they need to help me raise the kids since I’m on my own. I love them with all my heart, but I'm so nervous. They're coming to my house, and they're going to be all over my mess. And knowing my dad, he’ll be upset when he finds out the whole story and will probably try to take charge of my family as “the man of the house.” And Mom... well, I bet she’s going to try and change every motherly decision I've made and criticize how strictly I'm raising my babies.

I mean, they are great, the best parents anyone would love to have. But... ugh, I feel like instead of them seeing me as a capable adult, I’ve managed to become a teenager in their eyes again. Okay, that's it—happy thoughts!

Let's put on some Latin music to get the full cleaning vibes. This house won’t be clean enough for Mom, I know.

*******************************************

Sunday comes. I pumped enough milk during the week to last a few days, but baby Sam doesn't like drinking from a bottle yet. I bet he’ll give Cris a hard time. Oh well, he just has to get used to it because when his first little tooth comes out, I'm done breastfeeding! The way he pulls on my n*****s as if they were elastic bands is painful enough. I don't need any more cuts.

I put on my old Ramones shirt and some jeans that I'm not really sure are clean, along with some leather boots and a black leather jacket. I leave my kids with my best friend, my sister of another mother, my soulmate—the yin to my yang. She’s the complete opposite of me, yet we’re the same, too. You get the picture. She’s my rock, and she has been traveling with me since I "took her custody" from her abusive father when she was five years old. I took her in as mine, and we traveled a lot before I got married. She even went to Germany with us. She was the one who was able to hold all my broken pieces together for me and my family, and she does it not because she feels grateful but because of real sisterhood and friendship. I love her with all my heart, and I know we'll end up very old and traveling again... just give me time to fix myself and wrap up this mess. You'll see.

On my way to Seattle airport, I sing along to my Led Zeppelin album, just to cheer up. I change to my mixed playlist, which Cristina always says is like all my multiple personalities had a party. Well, I have a mixed blood and culture, so why not in music, too? I have everything from reggae to techno to even classical music. I love all genres, not just in music but in movies, hobbies, everything. I don't think we are meant to have only one job or one style or anything. We are meant to live life fully.

I lost eight years trying to live the life "Voldemort" wanted. Now I live how I want, lovingly and fully. We're finally happy and at peace.

I live by the day, trying to keep all my broken parts together so my kids or anyone else won’t notice. I tend to have mood swings all the time. I try my best to be happy, but I always spiral into my dark place. I don’t trust myself anymore. But I do trust my purpose, which is to make every one of them pay for what they did to me.

Ugh, stop. Breathe.

I try to end being all melodramatic and pessimistic and all that s**t I try so hard to avoid showing people. So now I'm singing Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" to try and cheer me up.

I get to the airport and wait for my parents, feeling really nervous. Damn, I feel like a kid waiting for her parents to review her final grades, which are fake, and hoping not to get caught.

After looking through the glass wall that separates us from the landing area for the hundredth time, I suddenly get a glimpse of a man waiting for his luggage. He's the sexiest man I've ever seen in my 28 years of miserable life! I just can't take my eyes off him. Yep, I'm definitely drooling.

He is so handsome even from far away. I can only see his side, but I know God took his time with him, you know, to make sure he was perfect in every way. He has perfect pinkish lips and a perfectly chiseled jawline with a five o'clock shadow. He is tall, at least 6’3” or 6’4”! He has light mocha skin, and he has a mohawk! Are those braids or dreadlocks? I don't know, but it makes him look like a fierce warrior, as if a Viking and Kocoum from Pocahontas had a baby together.

He has a muscular body, like he was a bodybuilder or something. I bet he has a full eight-pack, or even more if that's possible. He is wearing a leather jacket with an open flannel and a dark shirt, dark jeans, and leather boots. He gives me the Dean vibes from that Supernatural series. He looks confident, like he's used to being drooled at, and you can see the aura of authority he’s projecting on his crew. They are listening like soldiers, ready to serve.

Oh man, everything about him is so perfectly designed. I could chain this man to my bed for weeks! Oh my god, am I really fantasizing about a random guy just minutes before meeting my parents?

I really do feel like a hormonal teenager with her first idol crush. Get a grip on yourself, Andrea. Stop eye-f*****g that dude and focus, pendeja (dumbass)!

After having a hard time taking my eyes off my 'beast god' and forcing myself to focus, I start looking for my parents. I really hope this will work because we've put so much effort into doing all this, and I'm not going to let anyone bust the happy bubble I made for my kids and me.

I keep telling myself to be brave when my mind goes blank all of a sudden. The moment the man walks through the doors, in slow motion like in the movies, he stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. I swear everything stops around him, too, even my heart.

A few seconds later, he opens his eyes and starts searching for something with some desperation. Then his beautiful green hazel eyes lock with mine, and my breath hitches, and my heart starts palpitating again—this time, really fast.

People are passing by him, and even one of his men is talking to him, but he won’t stop looking at me. I feel a sudden heat that travels from his eyes to mine and goes directly to, you know where, and just like a bomb has exploded inside me, I'm sure I just had a mini orgasm right now.

His stare is so intense that I begin to turn red from forgetting how to breathe or blink, I don't really know. This staring contest is interrupted by my mom screaming my name.

-“Andreaaa, contesta, mija” (Andrea, answer, my child), my mom said while bear-hugging me and crying.

-“Umm... sí, mami” (yes, mommy), I said, having no clue what she said and shaking my head to focus. -“Sorry, mami, can you repeat? Estaba distraída con mi futuro marido” (I was distracted by my future husband), I said without even thinking.

I hadn't stopped looking at him, so my mom turned to follow my eyes, and with a gasp, she said, “Andrea, oh my God!” while bursting into a loud laugh. I joined in while hugging her back.

I missed her so much tears threatened to form in my eyes, and I closed them. I looked up at HIM again, and as if he heard me from that far or even understood what I just said, he was giving me the most dreamy smile with perfect teeth that made me melt right there. Seriously, can he be more perfect?

My eyes went wide, and I smiled back at him and blushed like crazy because I really think he heard me. He has this knowing look on him, and I think he is going to approach us.

Suddenly, someone cleared his throat from behind us. I turn around and I see this tall, strong man with short gray hair and a long beard, dressed casually, with a few more wrinkles on his forehead since the last time I saw him and very serious, wise eyes. I straightened up in front of him, staring back.

I say, -“Daddy, I've missed you so much, and I'm really happy to see you.” I gulp, and after what felt like a really long time, his assessing eyes softened, and he extends his arms and picks me up like I was a weightless doll and hugged me so hard I couldn’t breathe. Not that I cared, really. I think I hugged him just as hard.

-“Mi hija preciosa, cuánto te he extrañado yo a ti” (My precious daughter, how I have missed you), he said. By then, I was sobbing like a little girl, feeling safe in Daddy's arms. I felt like this decade hadn’t even existed.

After a few minutes of us hugging and crying and hugging again, I notice "Beast God" was waiting for something. Maybe someone. Probably his lover—a woman just as perfect as him, a model goddess or so. And I really don't want to ruin my fantasy of us together, naked, him in my bed, at my mercy.

So I tell my parents we should go grab something to eat before going home. I really don't want to see who she is.

My dad noticed me looking at him, and as he looks back, he nods at him. And my Beast God nods back!

My eyes go wide, and for the seventh time today, I turn red as a tomato. But as we leave, I turn my head slightly to the left and hesitate a few seconds whether I should ask him for his number or not. Nah, let's avoid the shame of being denied. I'm hungry!

While we went to a diner near the airport, I couldn’t help but ask Daddy how he met him. He said when they were on the plane, they sat together and even had a conversation. He liked the guy, and they exchanged numbers.

After coming back from the bathroom, I sit and ask while waiting for our lunch,

-“But Daddy, you said you're retiring from all these missions. I think you've helped a lot of people. Don't you think it's time for you to enjoy your grandchildren?”

-“Well, mi amor, I am retiring, but there's always going to be people who will need help, and if I can help even a little bit, you know I will,” he responded. He hasn't changed a bit, always the altruist.

-“Now, tell me the truth. How have you been dealing with all this?” he asked.

After a long moment, I started telling him everything from the beginning. Since they left us in Spain until that "troll" first left, the drinking problem, the gambling, how he mistreated me. I wasn’t getting too specific on the bad details of how he broke me little by little so I wouldn’t notice, all he made me give up for him—the arguing or when he would force me to sleep with him when he was drunk. When he got physical.

Abuse tends to come really unnoticed, and then it escalates. The more you lose your self-love, the more the bully gets a right over you.

My dad was quiet and listening, like he did when he helped people get their s**t together. Like he knew what I was not telling them. My mom cried a few times, too. Both looked at me with pity, disappointment, and regret for not being there for me. Then I saw a promise of revenge in his eyes.

I changed topics quickly and started telling them about how I got out of all that mess with Cristina's help and became who I am today.

How I struggled with depression, anxiety, and all the insecurities he gave me. How I found my inner fire and became fierce again. How my kids became fierce like me. I saw my dad smiling with pride in his eyes, with relief. He then asked me,

- “Are you dating or open to someone? I saw you were really interested in that big guy at the airport,” with a sly smirk I love and missed so much.

I started to nervously laugh and just answered,

-“Well... he was candy for my eyes, and I can dream, right? I'm not seeking a new partner. I'm really far from being healed, so no. I don't think I'll ever be ready to date again or have a relationship. Now I'm focused on my kids and my personal growth. I've wasted so many years, Dad; I won't ever do that again,” I stated as a matter of fact.

-“Besides, who will want a 28-year-old with three kids and a crazy sister-in-law?” We all laughed and finished our meals.

When we got home, my parents were so excited to meet my kids. My kids were distant at first, unsure how to proceed and looking for my approval. They've only seen them by video chat, but they were closer to them than to my ex's family, and we lived practically as neighbors. After 30 minutes, they were all hugging and kissing and spoiling them with all the gifts they brought for them. I watched with my heart swelling from all these happy emotions.

It's been three hellish years (eight years, actually), but now I can really feel like we are truly happy. My kids are living in a peaceful environment with order (yeah, right) and fun. You can really feel the love they have for one another, and that's my happiness right there.

When the kids went to sleep, Dad, Mom, Cris, and I spoke some more. Like I predicted, the moment he knew what was going on, he wanted to be in charge.

-“Daddy, I love you, and you will always be my hero, but this is my thing, my life, and my choice. You will interfere only by helping me. Now I know that you love us, and I know you want to help, but your knee got damaged in that tsunami you went to help with. And you are retired, remember? It's my turn now. You have to enjoy the kids. They need you, Daddy, like I did, like Cris did. Please just let me finish this. I'm so close, Dad,” I begged.

-“What about the kids? They need their mom, and if something happens to you, what will become of them?” he said.

We argued exactly like I knew we would. I needed to cool off, so I went to my yard to finish my beer alone. I entered the forest behind the house, and after a few seconds of walking in the darkness, my eyes adjusted to it.

Finally, I dropped myself onto a huge rock I climbed to. I looked at the moon and tried to relax. This has become my chilling spot whenever my feelings were too much for me to handle. I could see my house, my window from here. I stared at the moon and drank my beer.

I wasn't drunk, or at least I thought I wasn't, but I swear I saw a shadow move. I always forget there are wolves around here. With a heavy sigh, I raise my beer to salute the moon and finish it with one gulp. I head back to my house, give a kiss and a hug to my daddy even though we still disagree on everything, and go upstairs. I strip and get into my blankets. Sleep takes over me in a few seconds.