jane visits roisa pt. 1
It took months before Jane finally did something about what Petra and JR had said.
Now, some people might have heard everything they said and stuck to their guns and not let it get into their head at all, but Jane wasn’t built that way. She wanted to stick to her guns. She didn’t want to go see Rose. She would probably be okay with seeing Luisa if she didn’t have to worry about the other half of that duo, but since Rose was there, she didn’t really want to visit Luisa either. The problem was that Jane was the sort of person who overthought things. And as much as she could try to ignore everything that her friends – and JR, as much as they didn’t really get along, was still a friend because Petra was a friend – had said, their words crept under her skin. They sat there, they made her skin itch, and every now and again she would scratch and pick at them and they would get stirred up again.
She tried to bring it up with Rafael, but that didn’t do any good. He was not of the overthinking type. He was the bullheaded stick to their guns type, which was different than the normal stick to their guns type, who might be willing to listen to opposing reasoning and change what their guns were stuck to, in that no matter the opposition he was going to stick with his decision, even if he was wrong. In a moment like this, that was almost nice, but it really turned into Rafael saying, “Look, Jane, if you don’t want to see them, don’t see them. I don’t. And she was my sister. But you have to know when to let go,” eventually followed by, “Jane, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want you to go see them,” followed eventually by, “Don’t go see them,” and as soon as it became an order, Jane knew she had to go.
Jane was even worse about sticking to her guns when she was strictly told not to do something. Especially when she was concerned she might be wrong.
She wasn’t wrong. Not about Rose. She wasn’t wrong.
This was a waste of time.
Which was what she told herself as she stood on their doorstep with Mateo at her side.
…she hadn’t really wanted to bring Mateo, either, but she had. She didn’t want him around Rose, and she couldn’t tell herself that these were the sort of people who wouldn’t hurt children because Rose would. She knew Rose would. But she also was fairly certain that Luisa wouldn’t and would be very upset if Rose tried, which made the decision a little easier. And she hadn’t wanted to go alone, and she hadn’t wanted to bring Rafael with her, and she hadn’t wanted her coming to feel like an attack.
Jane took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Once.
Twice.
“Momma, why aren’t you trying the doorbell?”
Because she really didn’t want them to answer the door. Because she really didn’t want to deal with them. Because she really didn’t want it to be for her lack of trying that they didn’t see each other.
Jane took another deep breath and rang the doorbell.
At that exact moment, the door opened, and the woman of her dreams – nightmares, woman of her nightmares – stood there, only she didn’t look much of anything the way Jane had imagined her. Well, she did, because she was still the same person, but she wasn’t in the fancy low cut dresses or shirts that she’d seen her in when she worked at the Marbella (when Emilio was still alive) and her hair was not in that meticulous wonderful easy wave she’d had before. Instead, she was in sweatpants – Rose Solano, the villainous Sin Rostro, in sweatpants! – and what looked to be an old t-shirt, her hair was a frizzy mess of spazz, and her face seemed pale, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she had freckles. Standing this close, Jane could see them!
Or maybe it was that Rose wasn’t wearing make-up.
On second consideration, her face was really, really red. Much redder than normal. It was the make-up thing. Jane was sure of it.
Rose looked at Jane, and her jaw worked but didn’t quite tighten. “I take it you’re here to see Mia.”
Jane blinked a couple of times. “Who’s Mia?”
“Oh. You haven’t heard.” Rose’s expression softened, and she leaned down to Mateo’s height. “Do you know who I am?”
“You’re Auntie Rose who kidnapped me when I was a baby and killed a lot of people, and you’re married to Auntie Luisa who made me be born,” Mateo said before Jane could stop him.
Rose grinned. “That’s right.”
“Um,” Jane started and slowly moved Mateo behind her, “can we come in?”
Rose slowly stood up. She was taller than Jane was – she’d always been taller than Jane was, most people were taller than Jane was – but she didn’t seem as intimidating as she once did. Maybe it was the sweatpants or the bags under her eyes or the fact that she was a real living person who didn’t seem to be holding a knife and Jane knew those kind of sweatpants couldn’t be concealing them. Or a gun. Or anything really dangerous. And her fingernails were all cropped short, so that was a plus.
But there was still something in the way Rose looked at her, some glint of something dangerous. It wasn’t a trick of the light. It couldn’t be. Jane was still right. Rose was still evil.
“Sure,” Rose said, and she pushed the door open, holding it for them. “Come on in.”
Jane walked into the house. Mateo followed her. She wanted to take everything in, but the first thing she could think of before that was, “Where’s Luisa?”
“Oh, she’s—”
“Rose, look! She’s finally latching on!”
And there was Luisa. Without a shirt on. Or a bra. Completely nude from the waist up. Breasts flying in the breeze.
Jane covered Mateo’s eyes.
“Mama! I can’t see anything!”
“That is the point.” Jane glared at Luisa – although, really, it wasn’t entirely her fault, she couldn’t have known who was at the door or that there was a child involved (but the doorbell rang and she came! she knew there was someone at the door! did she feel no shame?) – and then, finally, finally saw the swaddled something cradled against her chest and put two and two together.
Oh.
No one had told her Luisa was pregnant.