Page 117 of Tito

Reggie

Every muscle in my body tensed at the sight of my father walking into the store. In all my years working there he had not visited me, once.

Worry shot through me like a sickness. My overactive mind began assembling the worst-case scenarios, all of which included a motorcycle or car wreck involving Tito. Fearing the news, but needing to know what happened, I met him in just inside the entrance.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Is Tito okay?”

“I was in the neighborhood investigating some gang activity at the gas station down the block.” He spread his arms wide. “Thought I’d stop by.”

I hugged him. “Nothing’s wrong?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You just stopped by?”

“I was within a few feet of this place,” he said with a smile. “So, I thought I would. If that’s okay.”

“Absolutely.” Relieved, I waved my hand in a circle. “Well, this is it.”

“Looks like it’s right up your alley,” he said. “You’ve always been one to naturally know fashion.”

Since I was old enough to dress myself, I was concerned with what I wore. I grinned at his remark. “Thank you.”

He glanced around the store, slowly taking everything in. His curiosity had nothing to do with the store or its inventory, the cop blood in him wouldn’t let him continue with the conversation until he was aware of his surroundings. After a complete survey of the store and the stores across the hall, he continued.

“How’s Tito?” he asked.

“He’s good.”

Standing between two racks of women’s jean shorts, he lifted a pair and looked at them. He shook his head at the sight of the low-waisted micro-shorts. “These things are microscopic.”

“They’re popular again,” I said. “Everyone’s wearing them.”

“They don’t cover up what ought to be left to the imagination,” he complained. “They should be against the law.”

“You arrest the criminals, and I’ll take care of anyone breaking the laws of fashion.”

He hung the shorts on the rack. After glancing at his hands, he wiped them on the thighs of his slacks. “Do you think you and Tito will get married one of these days?”

I gave him a sideways look. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m just curious.”

“You’re the second person to ask that question today,” I replied. “Mel was here this morning, and she asked it. Now, you.”

“Sounds like there’s a lot of people that care about you.”

I disagreed. Not that there weren’t people who cared about me. I believed the curiosity was driven by the magic that exuded from Tito and me when we were together. It was undeniable.

“Tito and I are undeniably in love,” I said. “I think people see that when we’re together.”

It was obvious the answer I gave wasn’t what he was hoping for. His eyes narrowed in opposition. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I’ll tell you what I told her,” I replied. “I hope that one day he asks me.”

“That would make you happy?”

“Of course it would.”