Finding Justice (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 12)

by Patricia Watters

  The disagreement was cut short when Sergei called out, "We found a tree."

  They looked ahead to where Irina was standing and smiling broadly, with her gloved hand around the slender trunk of a fir tree, a couple of feet taller than Sergei, and with symmetrical branches.

  Julia was glad for the distraction because the argument she and Mario were having was at an impasse, and she didn't want the evening to end that way. She knew what she wanted, but the problem was convincing Mario. He was heading back to a life he felt some moral obligation to pursue, but didn't enjoy, and she could see a life right where they were, as a family. And somehow, she'd break the physical barrier Mario kept between them, and convince him that soulmates belonged together, body and soul, and that couldn't happen at a distance.

  CHAPTER 13

  Mario made a Christmas tree stand by splitting four slats off a log and nailing them at the base of the tree trunk, and while Sergei held the tree upright, Mario hammered in nails to secure the tree to the stand. He then sat on the couch, clipping off sections of wire, and with a pair of needle nose pliers, turned the wires at each end to make ornament hooks, while at the kitchen table, Julia instructed the kids in making ornaments from items they found in a small cabinet containing craft supplies—a long garland made of interlocking paper rings; icicles from narrow strips of paper folded accordion style and pulled open; snowflakes made by cutting geometric shapes in double-folded pieces of paper. But Julia also gave the kids a chance to draw a picture of something special, so Sergei drew a picture of boxing gloves, and Irina drew a picture of a heart, with four stick figures on it, making Julia wonder if the stick figures were Irina, Sergei and their parents, or the four of them at the cabin.

  When the ornaments were finished, Julia made an angel out of paper plates, the kind of plates with ruffled edges. Starting with a cone, which looked like the ruffled skirt of an angel, she taped on wedge wings, so the ruffled edges looked like feathers, then taking another plate, she drew an oval for a head, and scallops around it for hair, and handed the plate to Irina, along with a crayon. Irina understood, and when she finished drawing the face, Julia cut it out and taped it to the top of the cone. After attaching arms and a halo, she handed the angel to Irina.

  For a few moments, Irina studied the angel, then tears filled her eyes.

  "What's wrong?" Julia signed.

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Irina signed, "No Daddy angel."

  Julia opened her arms and hugged Irina. "It's okay, honey. We'll make a daddy angel too."

  With Irina sitting on her lap, Julia made another cone, and slitting it front and back, made pants, then she gave Irina another oval for a face, indicating a big smile. After attaching arms and a halo, she taped the angels together, and signed to Irina, "Happy angels in Heaven."

  Irina seemed to perk up then, and when she handed the angels to Mario to put on the tree, he lifted her instead, and let her set them in place. With her arms around his neck, Irina looked at the angels, and smiled.

  "Can we hang the ornaments now?" Sergei asked Julia.

  "You can, as soon as the three of you have attached the hooks and I've draped the garland chain around the tree," Julia replied.

  While Julia arranged the paper chain, Mario used a nail to poke holes in the paper ornaments so the kids could attach the hooks, and when they finished, they all started hanging ornaments. Julia couldn't help smiling when she looked at Mario, who seemed completely out of place, hanging paper snowflakes on a tree, yet he wasn't out of place because he also looked like a father interacting with his children, an image Julia knew she'd carry in her heart for years to come, no matter how things with her and Mario turned out.

  Sergei, who had been chattering away most of the day, was quiet for a while, but when he was hanging his paper boxing gloves, he looked at Mario, and said, "When you were boxing did you fight Muhammad Ali?"

  Mario laughed. "No. Not only is he a lot older than me, but he was a professional boxer. I only fought in amateur matches where you're fighting for the sport of it and don't win money. Later, if you're good enough, you can go pro if you want, but not all boxers want to do that."

  "Why not?" Sergei asked. "You could be on TV and make lots of money."

  "Pro boxing's a ruthless, blood sport," Mario replied. "You're out to beat-up your opponent and hurt him so badly he can't get up and fight, so the fun's gone. Amateur fights are won on a point-scoring system, measuring the number of blows landed instead of the damage they cause."

  "I want to learn to box too," Sergei said. "Can you teach me with Julia's bag?"

  "I'll give you some pointers, but Julia can show you what she's learned too," Mario replied. "She's picking it up fast."

  Julia caught Mario's eye, and knew what was behind his statement. But the idea of adopting Irina and Sergei and raising them as a single mother was out of the question. "You'll be learning other sports in school, which will work as well as boxing," she said to Sergei, then gave Mario a look she hoped he'd understand clearly. Drop the subject of single-mother adoption.

  Sergei, passing over Julia's comment, said to Mario, "If I learn boxing, maybe I could get a scholarship and go to college like you. I can punch hard. I knocked down a guy a lot bigger than me who said Irina was stupid because she didn't talk, but then he and I got suspended from school for fighting."

  "You were right to stick up for your sister, and that's something you'll always have to do," Mario said, "but maybe it would have been better to report it to the principal, and let him deal with the problem."

  "I know. That's what the principal said, but since I knocked down that older guy, I could maybe knockout someone boxing," Sergei replied.

  Mario placed his hand on Sergei's shoulder, and said, "If you're going for college boxing it's not about knockouts, which rarely happen in amateur boxing, it's about outscoring and outclassing your opponent. It's a noble art, like a physical game of chess."

  "What's chess?" Sergei asked.

  "A two-person strategy board game where you set up long-term plays to beat your opponent, using knights, bishops, rooks, pawns and a king and queen," Mario replied.

  "Can you teach me?" Sergei asked, in an excited voice.

  "I could get you started if I were staying longer," Mario replied, "but it's not something you can learn overnight."

  Sergei said nothing, but Julia knew, from the perspective of a ten-year-old, that he didn't understand why Mario had to leave at all, or why the two people he and Irina saw hugging in the farm and ranch store couldn't get married and adopt them. She also noticed that Mario had been reserved with her ever since their argument about the kids, and she couldn't decide if he was angry over her refusal to adopt them, which would be unreasonable of him, or because the kids would be going back into foster care and he was troubled about that. Either way, she appreciated his concern for a couple of kids he hadn't known existed a week ago.

  Everyone lightened up a little at dinner. Julia managed to make a centerpiece out of fir limbs accented with pinecones she'd found in a small bucket, and which she frosted by edging them in glue and dusting them with flour. The kids were excited about cooking on a wood stove and eating chili beans, crackers, and canned peaches, while sitting at a table lit by a kerosene lantern. Even Mario seemed to have snapped out of his sullen mood. He sat at one end of a rectangular table, opposite Julia, and more than once, when she'd catch his eye, he smiled. But she also noticed him looking at Irina and Sergei, and when he did, his face became thoughtful.

  The cabin aglow with golden warmth from the flickering flames of the fireplace, Julia felt a strong sense of contentment, as if they were a family in the wilderness sharing a meal, and the man at the head of the table, her man, was capable of protecting them from whatever might arise.

  After dinner, Julia remained in the kitchen, deciding what to prepare for their Christmas meal the following day, settling on canned ham, which she'd glaze with honey she found in a small plastic bear on a shelf, and along with t
he ham they'd have canned Boston baked beans, canned yams, and freeze-dried blueberry cobbler for dessert, which, according to the directions, reconstituted into a delicious cobbler by simply adding boiling water. And for breakfast they'd have boxed cereal with raisins and reconstituted milk.

  Satisfied, she put it all out on the counter.

  But while she was setting the table for breakfast, she glanced at Irina, who had been sitting in a rocker with her knees drawn up, and her arms around herself, like she was shutting out the world, and Julia didn't know if she was tired, or sad, but she had noticed Irina watching Mario while he was sitting on the couch making phone calls. Julia was about to stop what she was doing and spend some time with Irina, when Irina left the rocker and went over to where Mario was turning off his phone, and standing in front of him, crossed her hands over her chest.

  Mario, understanding what she was asking, opened his arms to her, and she climbed up on his lap and curled against his chest, with her head resting below his chin and her knees drawn up. Mario closed his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

  Sergei, who was sitting in front of the fire, while carving the handle of a walking stick with Mario's knife, looked at Mario, and said, "Irina misses Daddy. He used to read to her every night."

  "What kind of stories does she like?" Mario asked.

  "Charlotte's Web is her favorite," Sergei replied, "but she had a book of fairy tales Daddy used to read to her, with pictures in it, like from the movies, and she liked Cinderella, but the book got left somewhere."

  Mario raised his hand and smoothed the hair back from Irina's forehead and then closed his arm around her again, and Irina cuddled closer and placed her hand over his heart. "I'll get her some books when we get back," he said. "Will you read to her at night?"

  "She only wants Daddy to read to her," Sergei replied. "She pushes me away. But maybe she'll let you read since she's never gotten on any man's lap before but Daddy's."

  Mario looked over the top of Irina's head at Julia, who shrugged, and said, "Maybe it's not a mother she needs."

  ***

  Wanting to get the kids to bed so they could get on with picking out the gifts, Mario suggested they crawl into their sleeping bags early so Christmas would come sooner, so by nine o'clock, the kids were curled up in their bags on the double couch, and Mario had made up his bed in a corner of the living area, a bed that consisted of two sleeping bags and a pillow from the bedroom. After that, he banked the fire in the fireplace, and when he knew the kids were asleep, he blew out the lantern and went to the bedroom, where he found the door shut.

  After knocking lightly, Julia opened the door, allowing a sliver of light from the kerosene lantern to brighten the hallway momentarily. On closing the door behind himself, he said, "They're sleeping now. What did you find in the box?"

  "A small goldmine." Julia dragged a box out from the closet and set it on the bed, but before removing anything, she said, "Maybe you'd better lock the door before I set all these things out, then we can decide who gets what."

  Mario fastened a large hook into an eye on the door frame, then pulled up the only chair in the room and sat facing Julia, who was on the bed, setting out games, and books, and puzzles. "I feel like giving it all to them," she said, "but some of the games are advanced, and a couple of puzzles have 1200 pieces, but we could include those for them to take to their next home."

  The words, next home, hit Mario hard. While he was holding Irina earlier, he'd been aware of her curled up against him, like she just wanted his arms around her for protection, and love, unlike the way it was with Amy, who bounced on his lap, and grabbed him around the neck, always in fun. But Amy had the security of parents and grandparents. Irina had no one to protect her but Sergei, and once placed in foster care, there was always the danger of someone molesting her, a male friend in the house, older male foster brothers, even a foster father, and Irina wasn't talking, so no one would know...

  "We'll make two piles, one for Irina and the other for Sergei," Julia said. "I found this book of animal stories, which will be perfect for Irina because there are lots of pictures in it, and Sergei will love Chinese Checkers because he'll get marbles, but I'm, not sure about the rest. Think back when you were ten. What would you have wanted from Santa, even though you wouldn't have believed in him by then?"

  "Probably cigarettes and condoms," Mario said.

  "You were ten!"

  "I matured early."

  "Are you serious?"

  Mario laughed. "No. I would have wanted an erector set."

  "Sergei will be getting that, and you'll be able to help him, but what about what we have here? Would you have worked puzzles or read Donald Duck comics?"

  "Sure," Mario replied. "I might even color in a coloring book if it was Wonder Woman."

  Julia eyed him with amusement. "I'm glad I didn't know you when you were ten. I could have been in danger."

  "Probably not," Mario said. "Roberta was like having a marine drill sergeant for a sister. I didn't stray too far from the fold until a little later. I think these kids just need to know someone cares, and that whatever they get, are theirs to keep."

  He picked up a book off the pile, one he remember well. While he was staring at the cover, Julia said, "I take it you're familiar with, The Little Engine That Could."

  Mario let out a short laugh. "Yeah, Roberta read it to me non-stop when I was a kid, probably the reason I don't quit things once I start. If a little engine could get up a hill by saying, 'I think I can, I think I can,' I figured I could do anything I wanted if I tried hard enough."

  "Then I'll put it on Irina's pile," Julia said, "and Chinese Checkers on Sergei's."

  But when she went to set another book on Irina's pile, Mario took it from her and paged through, Guess How Much I Love You, the story of a little rabbit trying to tell its daddy how much he loved him, and daddy rabbit coming back to little rabbit with more love, until it was a contest about who loved who the most. Smiling at a cover with two rabbits on it—a big one and a little one—he said, with fondness, "This is Amy's favorite book, and Uncle Mario got to read it whenever I was there at bedtime."

  Julia laughed. "Uncle Mario reading about rabbits is almost as hard to visualize as Marshal Moretti doing pirouettes in tights."

  "You're pushing things, Wonder Woman," Mario said, but the image that came wasn't of Julia wearing a vest with inserts, but of her body damp with perspiration after her workout, and her hardened nipples pressing against a damp sports bra clinging to her breasts.

  "Okay, we're venturing into dangerous territory here," Julia said, "so moving on…"

  For the next fifteen minutes they sorted through books, games, puzzles, and coloring books, until they had two stacks with enough gifts to make a memorable Christmas. But when they were finished, Julia said, "We need notes from Santa. Sergei wouldn't believe anymore, but Irina does. I could draw pictures of a fat man in a red suit for each, and she'd know who it was from."

  "Or we could leave the gifts and do nothing," Mario replied.

  Julia looked at him in bafflement. "Why would we do that when we have paper and crayons and can make notes? And please don't tell me you're a real Scrooge. That would destroy my white knight fantasy."

  "Then prepare yourself because I actually have a problem with the whole Santa myth where parents use lies, scare tactics, and bribery to get their kids to behave," Mario said.

  "What scare tactics?" Julia asked. "Santa's a fat jolly man who loves kids, and he has a workshop filled with happy little elves, and a stable of dedicated reindeer who fly around the world so Santa can deliver gifts to all the good little boys and girls."

  "The scare tactics come when kids are told someone's always watching," Mario replied, "so they're judged good or bad based on a few acts, which are also based on the premise that being good gets gifts."

  "I hope you're not going to tell me you didn't get Santa gifts at Christmas when you were a kid. That would be very sad
," Julia said.

  "I got gifts, but after I figured it all out, I went along with the lie so I'd keep getting gifts. I admit there was a certain magic about believing a fat man in a sleigh with reindeer would fly to my house and land on the roof and bring presents because he’d been watching me all year and knew I’d been good. The problem was, I hadn't been all that good, and there were still presents under the tree on Christmas morning, so I figured I fooled the big guy and could keep on doing whatever I wanted and still get gifts."

  "You really are a Scrooge," Julia said.

  "No, I'm all for Christmas and kids waking up and finding gifts under the tree," Mario replied. "I just think it's wrong to start them off in life by lying to them. I've spent my adult life protecting people who live by lies. I'm not saying the Santa myth was the start, but I think it's morally wrong for parents to be party to elaborate deceptions. In order to get kids to believe in Santa, a few simple lies aren't enough. Kids ask questions, so parents construct more lies, and their kids' skeptical questions are met with even more elaborate lies."

  "So, how would you do it, if you were a father?" Julia asked.

  "I'd start by introducing the kids to different Christmas traditions around the world, and talk about how everyone loves a good story like the Cat in the Hat, with magical characters who aren't real, but are fun to know. Kids can still wake up on Christmas morning and find gifts under the tree, but they wouldn't come with lies."

  "What about fairytales?" Julia asked. "Are you against reading those to kids?"

  "No, because you tell the kids in advance that the stories are made up, and that they can imagine being in a story if they want, but they can also learn about symbolism and metaphor through fairy tales, and you've never lied to them. It's the lies I'm against. We tell kids it's wrong to lie, yet parents start them out in life with a huge lie, and other adults perpetuate it, then for the rest of their lives, they're told it's bad to lie."

  "Okay, I admit you've made a valid point, but what about sex and the stork bringing a baby brother or sister? Do you start telling kids at age two that Daddy and Mommy hooked up together to make the new baby?"