let me be the one at day's end - T - 4.9K
TK/Carlos, Carlos & Andrea - 3x14 Coda/Deleted Scene, mother-son relationships, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of gun violence, anxious/worried carlos, established tarlos
How Carlos finds out about the shooting incident and the aftermath that follows.
As far as summer days in Austin go, today is fairly close to perfect. The heat is holding steady at 95F with a decent humidity. It’s actually nice enough to be out at the farmer’s market. He was off his shift early enough to pick up his mom and head over to get some supplies for dinner.
Carlos sighs as his mother goes another round with the vendor over the price. “Ma, do you want the jicama or not?”
His mom tsks loudly and spears him with a look. “I’m just saying it’s highway robbery.”
“What are you gonna do? Report them to Dad?” Carlos asks her, amused.
His mother sends him her sweetest smile, the fake one, that’s beyond dangerous. “Why when I have a cop right here?”
The vendor’s eyes go wide and Carlos’s hisses, “Mama, stop.”
As proud of his job as he is, Carlos understands that for many people cops are a dangerous gambit. Especially people who look like his family and that of the vendor. Carlos hands over the cash and the jicama ends up in the bag with the other vegetables. “Thank you.”
As they move on, his mother weaves her arm through his, just like she would have done with his father.
“She could have gone lower.”
Carlos shakes his head with a laugh. “You got them for half-price, Ma.”
“The art of negotiation is lost on people these days.”
Carlos hums and pats her hand as they make their way through the market. They hit a few more vendors and his mother manages a few more discounts as she stocks up on microgreens his father will just complain about and yams. In the end, they’ve both collected enough for their respective dinners tonight and the rest of the week. Carlos pauses at the edge of the parking lot to fix the produce. He kneels to begin the reorganization.
“Thank you for being willing to take your old mama out to go shopping.”
Carlos looks up at her from where he’s rearranging the various produce items in the bags so nothing gets crushed. “You’re not old, Mama.”
Her hand runs over his hair as he bends again to finish making sure the microgreens are at the very top. “My baby is twenty-eight. I used to think I was very grown up at twenty-eight.”
“You were married and had Rosa and Lourdes,” Carlos says, invoking the names of his oldest sisters. He stands, lifting the bags again. He grins at his mother, very glad neither of them are anywhere near the farmers market. “I mean, they’re enough to make anyone feel old.”
She laughs, a warm and rich sound, and Carlos is greeted with a soft elbow in the side as she weaves her arm through his again. “Aye, that’s my line. So, how are things going?”
“Good,” Carlos answers, quick and reflexively.
His mother sighs deeply and brings her free hand to her forehead. “Dios mio, you’re just like your father.”
Her tongue clicks softly. “How is TK?”
