Jarret smirked, then he must’ve remembered his own fury and he glared.
Sean blushed and stepped back before he continued. “I think she spilled it all, told everything. She’ll be a great witness for the abortion case, if she’s still talking by then.”
“Well,” Candice said to Jarret, “it should leave no doubt as to Mike’s guilt. Your name should be cleared.”
“I don’t know.” Jarret took a swig of the drink Candice had given him. “I’m tired of working for them anyway. Their next assignment is an hour south of here. I’ll look for another job, but I want my name cleared. Stealing artifacts won’t look good on my resume.” He grinned and took another sip. “What is this?” He lifted his drink. “And what’s that wonderful smell?” He glanced at the kitchen as Adeline came to join us.
“Caitlyn made tamales,” Adeline said. “Just for you.”
“No way.” He gave me a teasing glance. “They smell like the real thing.”
“They are,” Adeline said. “Your wife is an authentic tamale cook.”
“How long did that take?”
“All day,” Adeline and I answered together and giggled.
A moment later, Victor returned with the salsa and bean dip. I led Jarret to the dinner table, which—I now remembered—we had specifically put in the eat-in kitchen so we could enjoy the view outside. And because we didn’t have the money to waste on a second table, one more suitable for the smaller area. It bothered Jarret that we struggled to make ends meet, but he didn’t want to rely on his father’s wealth. I admired him for that.
“I want you to enjoy our dinner party,” I said to Jarret. “I made your favorite food. And don’t worry about finding work. When I have to quit for the baby, you can work for your father. I’m sure his offer still stands.”
He shrugged and sat at the head of the table, eyeing Sean at the opposite end.
Sean fidgeted in his seat as if he were trying to avoid looking down the table. Then he scraped his chair out and carried his plate to the kitchen. He and Mitch did a little dance in the middle of the kitchen to get around each other, then Sean sat at the patio table.
“Eh,” Jarret said. “I don’t wanna work for Papa.” Then he gave me a one-eyed glare. “Hey, how do you know about my father’s offer? Did you get another memory back?”
I smiled and took our plates into the kitchen. Adeline had already made plates for Bobby, Victor, Mitch, and Candice. I returned with plates loaded with taquitos, Spanish rice, and sweet corn. As I set one in front of Jarret, I said, “Poor Sean.”
Jarret gave Sean a disgusted glance. “Poor Sean?”
“Well, look at him.” I flung a hand in Sean’s direction. “He sits as far away from you as he can. I’m surprised he even accepted my invitation today. He’s so afraid of you.”
“Not as afraid as he should be.”
“Jarret.” I used a scolding tone. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You’re not going to hurt him. Besides, I talked to him for a long time... that Friday.” His sudden glance at the words “that Friday” reminded me that I had never mentioned that conversation to him. I’d meant to, just as I had meant to call him from the park to tell him when I might be home. Mike, in his disguise, had changed all that. “Sean seemed really sorry. He said it would never happen again, and I believe him.”
Jarret shrugged and folded his hands, ready to say grace. “Whatever. I don’t have to like him.” Bowing his head, he mumbled the Prayer Before Meals with me. Then he stabbed his taquito. “And I don’t mind him being scared of me. Maybe he’ll consider what I might do to him next time he’s tempted to touch my wife.”
I hid my smile behind a napkin, not wanting to show approval of his machismo, but touched all the same.
“We all make mistakes.” I took his hand. “Isn’t that what you told those high school students? God sends people to help us see ourselves anew without always dwelling on our past mistakes?”
“Oh no you don’t.” He pulled his hand back and shook his head. “God ain’t sending me to him. He can send someone else.” He gave a nod toward the kitchen.
I peered over my shoulder. Adeline carried two drinks to the patio table and gave one to Sean.
“Hey...” Jarret pushed the hair from my shoulder. “You’re wearing the engagement earrings. That your way of saying yes?”
I smiled and took his hand again. “I love you, Jarret, and I would marry you again, but let’s wait until our anniversary to renew our vows.”
“Our anniversary? That—that’s weeks away. Not that I—I can’t wait.” He squirmed, glancing outside, at the ceiling, and back to me. “I can wait. If that’s what you want to do. You want to wait? I’ll wait.”
I giggled. “Jarret, you don’t have to wait to sleep in our bed again.”
“What? I thought...” He glanced at the others at the table. Mitch and Bobby talked over each other. Candice and Victor seemed to be struggling to follow both conversations. No one was paying attention to me and Jarret. “I thought you’d want to wait.” He scooped up a forkful of rice and polished off his taquito.
I shrugged and tried not to smile. “If you want to.”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Okay, you’re keeping something from me.”
“What?” I tried to look naïve.
“You got your memory back.”
I shoved a forkful of corn cake into my mouth and feigned interest in whatever Bobby was saying. My ears perked. Wait! Was Bobby talking about me?
“... and Momma and Mrs. Patterson thought Mr. and Mrs. West weren’t tryin’ hard enough, what with their careers and all, but they was wrong.” He laughed. “Y’all know Mrs. West is in a family way?”
Victor shook his head and gave Candice a look. Candice laughed.
“Did you tell Bobby?” I spun to face Jarret, pretending it bothered me.
He glanced down the table. “What, that you’re pregnant? Course not. That kid picks up everything.” Jarret leaned close, suspicion in his eyes. “Don’t try to change the subject. You got your memory back, didn’t you? I can tell. You’re different. Well, not different, but the way you were before. You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
“Do you want seconds?” I glanced at his empty plate.
“Okay, that’s the way you want to play, huh?” He grinned, pushed his chair back and stood. Then he frowned and sat back down. “Hey. Do you remember that summer two years ago?” His eyes held a look of longing so intense that I could not continue my charade.
“I do remember, Jarret.”
“... falling in love with me?”
I nodded.
The tension drained from his expression. “So, uh, since the other day on the beach, I can’t help but wonder: how did you fall in love with me?”
I took his hand and played with his fingers while thinking of how to word my answer. “I fell in love with you when I saw how you really tried.”
“Tried what?”
“I know you’ve made mistakes in your life, but by the time we met, you wanted to do the right thing and you really tried. That’s important to me. It seems easy for some people to be good, maybe because of upbringing and circumstances. But what happens to them when faced with tough challenges? Like me? When I woke up in our home and couldn’t remember us or how I got there, I immediately judged you.”
My voice broke and my eyes watered, but I held back the tears. “Trying to accept that you were my husband... I couldn’t see past the mistakes you’d made. I couldn’t see you for who you are. I guess it was easier for me to avoid judging when you were more of a stranger to me. Maybe I’m harder on the people closest me.”
Repentance weighing heavy in my heart, I squeezed his hand and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He dropped his gaze and shook his head as if he didn’t deserve the apology.
I leaned closer. “But you, I know you’ve struggled to do the right thing. And even when it’s a challenge, you do
n’t give up, you keep struggling. It matters to you. And that’s partly why I fell in love with you. I’m also drawn by the strength of your love for me. It never seems to waver, no matter how I treat you.”
He laced his fingers through mine. “I hope you know how much I love you. Tell me you remember marrying me?”
“I’ll tell you later.” I gave him a sly smile.
A crooked smile crept onto his face. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I shrugged.
“You’re still messing with me.” He got up. “I’m gonna grab me another taquito or two.” He pushed his chair out and gave me a quick kiss. “Want anything?”
I shook my head.
Minutes passed and he hadn’t returned, so I turned to see what kept him. I didn’t see him at first, but when I did, my heart did a somersault.
Jarret was leaning against the far end of the kitchen island, holding a drink and talking to Sean. Sean smiled and laughed about whatever Jarret said. If I hadn’t known them, I would’ve assumed they were friends. I never would have guessed that one of them had kissed the other one’s wife.
My heart stirred over his act of mercy and I rejoiced that I had married him. Then something fluttered inside me. The baby? Dropping my hand to my belly, I rejoiced again. He was the father of my unborn baby. Jarret West, my husband.
Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t imagine being this happy married to anyone but him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Theresa Linden is the author of award-winning Roland West, Loner and Battle for His Soul, from her West Brothers series of Catholic teen fiction. An avid reader and writer since grade school, she grew up in a military family. Moving every few years left her with the impression that life is an adventure. Her Catholic faith inspires the belief that there is no greater adventure than the reality we can’t see, the spiritual side of life. She hopes that the richness, depth, and mystery of the Catholic faith will spark her readers’ imagination of the invisible realities and the power of faith and grace. A member of the Catholic Writers Guild and the International Writers Association, Theresa lives in northeast Ohio with her husband, three boys, and one dog.
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