Page 57 of Punk Rock Reflection
“It’s just leftover flan and arroz con leche that I made this afternoon,” Angel replied. “Probably not the best thing to eat at this hour, but after the night we had, I think we should indulge.”
As they sat at the dining room table, Lucas stared at the bandage on Damien’s forehead with curiosity. “What happened to your head?”
“I fell on stage when I was getting an award,” Damien explained. “But I’m OK.”
“Does it hurt?” Lucas asked, his eyes now big with worry.
“Nah. “Damien knocked on his skull. “I got a rock for a head.”
Alyssa gently pulled his arm down to his side. “Stop doing that.”
He gave her a sweet smile and pinched her chin. “I told you. I’m fine.”
“Extra snacks for Uncle Damien since he got a boo-boo,” Tessa announced, placing another helping of flan on his plate.
“Cool.” Damien ate a big spoonful. “If I knew I’d get extra sweets, I’d have hit my head a long time ago.”
Poor Alyssa let out a distressed sigh, while the kids giggled.
“Would you like some flan?” Angel asked Tommy.
Flan was never one of Tommy’s favorites, but Angel was always so proud of the traditional Cuban dessert that he could never refuse, so he had a piece. He really enjoyed the arroz con leche and reached for one of the small bowls, eager to dig into the tasty treat. “Pass the rice pudding.”
Angel flinched, as if offended. “It’s arroz con leche.”
“You know I can’t speak Spanish.”
Over the years, Angel tried to teach Tommy the language, but it was a lot of work, and Tommy never grasped more than individual words. He had trouble with the pronunciations and couldn’t form a sentence so never bothered trying to have a conversation in anything but English. The kids absorbed it like a sponge, though, and were raised bilingual.
A new thought entered Tommy’s head. Maybe learning Spanish could be one of the things on his list of life goals. He wasn’t sure how passionate he was about his bucket list anymore, but it was something to think about.
The familiar ratta-tat-tat on the door to the suite indicated that Jimmy and Audra finally arrived with Mason. As soon as Jessi let them in, Lucas ran to greet his best friend.
“Careful!” Jessi called after him. “You just ate.”
“Yeah.” Tommy winked at her playfully. “Wouldn’t want him to throw up any of Angel’s flan.”
“Tommy Blade.” Angel put his hands on his hips and sat taller in his seat. “Are you making cracks about my favorite dessert again?”
“No. Not at all. I love your flan.” Tommy stuffed a big forkful into his mouth. Then he looked at Angel, who was beaming. That’s why he’d never tell Angel it wasn’t his favorite. If eating flan put that smile on his husband’s face, he’d eat a whole plate of the overly sweet custard every night.
Music from the living room made Tommy gaze in the direction of his son and Mason. The two boys were on the sofa, Lucas with his guitar and Mason with his electronic drum pad, playing Metallica’s “Master of Puppets.” Chatter around the dining room table quieted as everyone listened in awe to this next generation of rock stars.
“Mommy, can I eat my flan in the living room so I can listen to Lucas and Mason?” Tessa’s sweet little voice asked.
“Of course, baby. Go ahead.”
Tessa took her plate and joined the boys, bopping her head to the beat of the music.
“How are you feeling?” Alyssa asked Damien, still full of concern. “Do you want the doctor to take a look at you? Just in case?”
He waggled his brows. “Not unless the doctor is a naughty nurse in black leather with thigh-high boots.”
Her lips curled into a small smile. “I’m serious.”
Tommy had never seen her so worried and so tender. She usually had a hard edge and a warped sense of humor, so this softer side of Alyssa was nice, but also strange, as if they slipped into a bizarro alternate universe.
Alyssa examined Damien’s bandage, looked at each pupil, and took his pulse. It reminded Tommy that she had once told him she used to be a nurse before she became a piercer. And that was a really, really scary thought.
