Carlos calls Jay

A couple days after Sofia’s apology call, it’s halfway through most people’s dinnertime, and I’m weaving through traffic with a bag of burgers cooling on the seat next to me when my phone rings. It’s another unknown number but not flagged as spam, so I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer.

“Yeah, this is Jay.”

“You the delivery kid who’s been fucking my wife?” some guy’s voice asks, suddenly accusing me through my car’s speakers.

My gut twists, having never been accused of something like that before. “Who’s this?” I ask, searching for someplace to pull over.

“It’s Sofia’s husband, Carlos. Now answer the fucking question.”

I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Look, man, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I deliver food to your house sometimes. That’s it. And I haven’t even done that in like a month. Nothing’s going on.”

He gives a hard laugh, like he’s going to assume anything I say is just an excuse. “Right. So then why’s my wife calling you? And my five-year-old talking about some ‘food guy’ she had to apologize to? You think I’m stupid? I know something’s up. I’m telling you to stay the hell away from my family, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The ends the call before I can get another word in.

It all happens so fast, I’m still sitting at a red light and didn’t even get a chance to park, with my heart hammering in my chest. Because what the fuck was that? I’ve never actually been threatened before, so that was another first that came out of that call. Deciding that Sofia should probably know, I pull up her number.

“Hello, Jay?”

“Hey, Sophia,” I begin, not really sure how to start.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Your husband just called me, and accused me of- um, well, accused us of… stuff. He said something about Mateo mentioning me, and so I guess now he thinks something’s going on between us.”

“Oh God,” she sighs. “I’m so sorry. He picked up the boys for the night, and Mateo said something about me calling the ‘food guy’. We’re going through a rough patch right now, so Carlos has been, uh, paranoid lately. I’m really sorry you got dragged into this.”

“It’s fine,” I say, even though it’s not. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, because he sounded… intense.”

I can hear the tension in her voice. “That’s him all the time. Thank you for telling me, and I’ll handle it. And Jay? I’m really am sorry. Again. After Mateo said something, he grabbed my phone off the counter. I had no idea he found or memorized your number, or I would’ve called you. Just so you know, I never would’ve given it to him.”

“It’s cool. As long as I don’t have to actually worry about anything, then don’t sweat it,” I respond hoping she’s actually able to handle it like she said.

“You don’t,” she assures me. “He’s all talk and has never been in a fight in his life. The worst thing he’s ever been able to do to anyone is fire them.”

Feeling a sense of relief that I don’t have to worry about someone showing up at my door, my body relaxes a touch. “That makes me feel a little better. And if you need anything, food, someone to vent to, or whatever, I’m here.”

“I might take you up on that. Talk soon.”

I let out a deep breath when she hangs up, then lean back against the headrest, trying to focus on the traffic. It sounds like more than a fight if he’s “picking up the kids for the night.” That’s a serious rough patch.

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