The clinic in Santa Fe helped them find an apartment and set up a one-year lease in Ashford’s name. That was the length of time he committed to remain in Santa Fe before trying to find something back in Phoenix. Theirs was a north-facing unit in a tan stucco building. The full branch of a sturdy pine tree framed the top of their living-room window from outside, casing the view of the mountains beyond the quaint city. The air was pleasant and cool, a refreshment as summer began. Still, Leila expected she would miss Phoenix come winter.
Right away, Ashford made a positive impression at his job. Leila saw how the work invigorated him.
He had changed since Leila first met him. She once questioned his motives for going into nursing, but there was no doubting him anymore. He had learned to love, and it came through in his work. Leila could see how happy it made him, both to serve the patients at the clinic and to feel like he was providing for her. There was still no practical need, as her savings could have supported them for another year or so, but she understood why it was important to him. It allowed him to hold his head high as he got a crash course in adulthood.
In time, Leila knew she’d want to work again, but it was nice to have a break. Based on what she saw in the news, it was clearly a good time to be away from the mortgage business.
She had worried she would be lonely in Santa Fe, away from her father, her friends, and everything she knew. But the people were so welcoming. Ashford’s coworkers befriended them right away, as did several of the neighbors in their apartment complex. Santa Fe was small compared to Phoenix. Everyone was less anonymous.
How could she have ever pictured this, just a year before? How could she have imagined how completely her life would change for the better? She had been so afraid—first to give her heart, then of the broken condom and what it would mean, then of Samantha’s wrath. All those fears had turned into joy.
Yet, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help remembering the three choices that Samantha had threatened her with that morning in December. It was the third choice that Samantha wouldn’t even tell—and Leila chose it. What could Samantha really do to her? How far would her spite go? Surely, in time, Samantha would give up her pride for the sake of a relationship with her only surviving son and grandchild.
Leila was thankful for the gentle summer in the high desert as the baby grew. She could still go outside and have the windows open at night. In Phoenix, she never would have wanted to leave the apartment.
Their daughter was born in July—Cristina. Leila always knew it would be a girl. One day, she would tell Ashford the full meaning behind that name.
She had wondered if she would miss the feeling of having the baby inside her—that closest of all physical intimacies. But once the little girl was free and held to her breast for the first time, that first intimacy was replaced by one even more wonderful. This child was still a part of her but was her own little person too: real, unique, with a vibrant personality that showed itself in her first days of life.
Manny and Carmen visited. Leila made them promise to take two days for the drive, for the sake of Manny’s knees. He was scheduled for double knee replacement surgery at the beginning of December.
On the second day of their visit, Leila asked Manny to go for a short walk with her while Cristina was asleep. Ashford was at work, and Carmen stayed to watch the baby. They stopped at a little park across the block from her apartment and sat down on a bench. Neither of them were in much condition to walk far.
“Am I being very foolish?” Leila asked him.
“What do you mean?”
“I still barely know Ashford, and here I’ve moved to another state with him. I agreed to marry him.”
“What else would you have done?”
“I don’t know. It’s all happened so fast.”
“Don’t overthink your blessings, my dear. You love him, he’s the father of your child, and you know he has a good heart. That’s all you need. No man is perfect, and Ashford will have his faults just like any man would. You have your own faults. But God threw the two of you together, so let it be the blessing it’s meant to be.”
Leila smiled. Manny had such a simple, beautiful way of looking at life. This was exactly why she needed to talk to him.
“I’ve never been happier for you than I am right now,” he said. “Seeing you with a good man and a new child, it’s the culmination of everything. Cherish the blessing. Don’t think your life could be perfect, or you’ll ruin the fact that it’s good.”
He was right. She couldn’t ask for a better man than Ashford. He was young and had much to learn. But he would grow and she with him.
She had been with him long enough now to know his true character. It was not only manifested in the way he treated her, even through the most difficult phases of her pregnancy, but in the way he treated other people too. He was genuinely kind. He always treated women with respect. Maybe at first she had thought him a little dull. There was not much about Ashford that seemed mysterious. But she had been attracted to mysterious before, and it was usually a mask for danger. The dangerous men ultimately either broke her heart or made her afraid. Ashford was a man a lot like Manny, who had walked away from the fight and was a better man for it.
“You’ve got everything figured out, Papá.”
Manny grunted in protest. “I’ve learned some lessons, sure. I’m hoping to spare you from learning them the hard way like I had to.” He paused. “I’ve told you before that love is the only thing worth living for. I really believe that, but it’s hard for anyone, including me. Contentment isn’t something that’s in my nature. Why do you think I joined the revolution as a young man?”
“But you’re content now.”
“No, I’m old. It’s different.”
Leila laughed.
“Contentment, like love, is a choice more than a feeling. You’ll need to learn to make that choice in your marriage. I’ve been married to Carmen for a long time now, and it isn’t always easy. To be honest, she and I are more different than I imagined when we first met. We’ve become more different over the years. That happens with some people. But I’ve chosen to love her no matter what, and our lives are good.”
Leila thought back across the years. “If we were to go back to when we were staying in that little inn in Cartagena, and both imagine the life we have now, with the partners we have now, neither of us would have complained or worried whether we had made the right decisions.”
“Exactly. That’s the way you should always look at it. I try to, but it can be hard. Because of my nature, it’s hard for me to accept a life that’s good enough or a marriage that’s good enough, but I’ve been more blessed than a lot of men. I’ve been more blessed than I deserve. So, I choose to be content with it.”
Leila looked out at the trees that lined the park against the bright blue of the afternoon sky. She wanted to believe that her dream of a good life for herself and her child was coming true. This was the life she had wanted, even though it had come about faster than she expected, and not in the manner she expected.
After Manny and Carmen left, Leila watched as fatherhood changed Ashford. For Leila, the reality hit as soon as she knew she was pregnant. Ashford took longer to process it; because he didn’t carry the baby, it didn’t truly become his reality until she was born. Now, Ashford wanted nothing but to serve Leila and take care of Cristina. It brought her joy to see his love. This was no man to be put off by the daily challenges of parenting. Samantha had tried to make her believe Ashford was a different type of man—one who would grow weary of responsibility. Leila didn’t see that trait in him at all. Did Samantha really not understand her own son, or had she just been trying to scare her?
Maybe living with her and the baby really did change him, just like it had changed her. How could it do otherwise, for a good man with a heart full of love?
Leila had never been religious like her father. Her childhood taught her to trust herself, not God. She believed that her hard work mad
e everything possible. But now, when Cristina slept in her arms or nursed at her breast, Leila understood more what the idea of God really was. Manny was proved right in telling her that all her hard work was only worth it if done for love. He also told her God is love. Those had always seemed like two separate thoughts. Now, she knew their connection.
In the past, God hadn’t made sense to her from the literal descriptions in the Bible. But God was here in their Santa Fe apartment, alive in this love that flowed between herself, Ashford, and Cristina. This was what Manny had tried to explain to her, even though he was too conditioned by his Catholic vocabulary to describe it in a way she really grasped.
There was no way for her to tell herself that her hard work had earned this. Cristina was a gift. No other word could describe it. Hard work had made the birth more comfortable and given them the luxury to make slow rather than desperate transitions in their lives. But the child herself was a gift. Life was something that could not be earned, bought, or borrowed. Life was a free gift of love.
Autumn came to Santa Fe on a gentle north wind out of the Rocky Mountains, scented with pine and juniper. The blanket of aspen trees on the hillside turned bright yellow. Leila would stand by the open window, breathing in the cool breeze, welcoming the new scents. But that wind also carried a reminder of high mountains, glaciers, and icy streams. What would it be like to pass a winter in a place where it snowed? She had never been in snow for more than a day’s excursion. This would be another new experience in a year full of so many. They began to keep their windows shut at night.
Leila relished this time to bond with Cristina. She also made a point to focus on Ashford—to serve him while he worked so hard for them, to still look beautiful for him when he came home, despite the exhaustion of motherhood and her self-consciousness about her postpartum body. She made sure to leave room in their interrupted nights to make love. He had given up more than she had for this life—to be a family. She never wanted him to doubt his sacrifice.
She was fortunate. She had become entangled with Ashford before she knew much of anything about him. It was hard to honestly judge someone’s character when he was desperately in love with you. But with each month that passed, she grew to believe that Ashford was a truly good man. It could have turned out many different ways. It still could.
These thoughts were why she kept the ambition to work again alive through that wonderful time. Much as she did trust Ashford, she still wanted to know she could take care of herself and her daughter if she needed to. She’d still only known the man a year. She stayed patient with the feeling—why rush this special time?
She wasn’t restless yet, but she felt it stirring. As the years passed, Cristina would start school and become more self-sufficient. Leila didn’t want the world to leave her behind. She had always dreamed of motherhood, but that should be a component in a full life, not the result of her dreams. She wanted to give Ashford and Cristina so much more. Perhaps there would be other children too, but it was too soon to broach that topic. She decided that once they returned to Phoenix next year, she would look into options for returning to the mortgage business, ideally working from home.
But for the present, she relished the wonderful moments and the bonds she was making with her fiancé and daughter. Her heart nearly burst with gratitude for all the love she had received.
27
“WHY THE LONG face, Sam?” Cox leaned against the doorframe to her office.
“Shut up, and get on your phone.”
“Nothing I love better than getting sworn at all day long.”
“Since when do you bitch about making calls?”
“I know when I’m spinning my wheels,” Cox said. “After Lehman went down, no one will even talk to us.”
“Try harder.”
Cox took one step back toward his desk before turning around. “Are we cooked, Sam?”
“You’ll be cooked if you don’t lock a loan soon.”
Samantha pressed her back against her high office chair, her hands flat on the arms. Cox wasn’t stupid. Her bluster was all for show, and he knew it. If he had come around to her side of the desk, he would have noticed that she hadn’t even bothered to log into her computer this morning. She’d been going through the motions all week.
It had been a bad year. As soon as the subprime mortgage meltdown started, Samantha knew it would be bad, but each time she thought it couldn’t get worse, somehow it did. It didn’t surprise her when Countrywide went under, followed by IndyMac. They had been leaders in the subprime market. When Bear Stearns went bankrupt, it freaked people out a little more. They had not originated subprime mortgages, but a review of their books showed how heavily leveraged they were in mortgage-backed securities. Rumor had it that Washington Mutual was next on the feds’ list. Who would have thought that a year or two ago? Alamo Trust Bank tried to change to an A-paper lender, but their clientele couldn’t qualify for prime mortgages.
She knew Cox was out there calling subprime qualified people with only Fannie Mae or FHA loans to sell to them. No wonder he was getting sworn at all day. It was clear where this would lead, with home values declining and subprime mortgages having been banned by Congress conveniently late in an election year. Maybe subprime lending was a bad idea from the start, but by turning off the faucet so suddenly, Samantha blamed Congress for the foreclosure crisis looming a year or two down the road.
As bad as it had been all year, no one was prepared for this. It had been less than a week since the collapse of Lehman Brothers, one of the most respected investment banks on Wall Street. If even Lehman was neck deep in subprime mortgage securities, nothing was safe. Credit markets had seized up around the globe. The stock market was in free fall. No one knew when light would appear at the end of the tunnel. If it did, most of the financial world would assume it was another train.
Cox was right. It was impossible to sell a loan in this environment. If by some miracle he did, Samantha would have nowhere to place it.
Samantha sat in her chair, reliving the memories of her years in this office—nine years that had passed in a flash. She was sad that it would end with such indignity.
So much success, yet what did she have to show for it: a couple of rental properties that now sat vacant with underwater mortgages, a stock portfolio that had been sliced in half almost overnight, and a big house in the North Scottsdale hills, but no one to share it with.
She went to lunch by herself and drank two martinis. She reapplied her makeup in the restaurant restroom before returning to the office. She wanted to look her best. She would go out the way she lived every day in this profession.
Was it that stubbornness that had gotten her here, to the brink of ruin? Or were the events of this year so far beyond her control that she need not blame herself?
Samantha did blame herself—for so much. She should have had better foresight and diversified her business before it was too late. She should have spent more time on the relationships than the money. It would be relationships she would need to get back on her feet once the dust settled. After this desk was gone, she would be completely alone.
No office, no friends, no sons.
When Stewart left home—almost twelve years ago now—he was rebelling against the limits of his own body as much as he was rebelling against her as a mother. She couldn’t help but blame herself a little, and especially blamed herself after he died four years later. But in retrospect, it all seemed a little more inevitable than it had at the time.
But Ashford—she never imagined he would desert her too. How could he throw all she had given him back in her face? Should she have raised him differently? Was this her fault? She missed him and seethed with resentment for the girl who had taken him from her—a girl she might have loved but instead was forced to hate.
She was a grandmother now. The thought was surreal.
The afternoon hours ticked by. More than once, Samantha asked herself if her premonition was wrong. Perhaps she read too much into
the signs all around her. She didn’t know whether to wish to be wrong or not. What did it matter? Whether their doors stayed open, they had lost the ability to do business. They might as well get it over with.
At about three thirty, the elevator doors opened. Samantha’s heartbeat quickened for a moment, and then her heart sank. She had been waiting for it all day, but it didn’t help. She was overcome with sadness and a sense of failure. Much as she had expected it, she didn’t start to grieve until that moment.
Six people stepped off the elevator, four men and two women, all wearing black suits. The feds had come. She saw the reactions of her people on the floor. Mona’s head fell. Tommy sat back and folded his arms. Cox cast his eyes back toward her with a forlorn expression. Her last loyal soldiers were lost.
The seizure didn’t take long. With few words exchanged, Samantha handed over the keys. The feds didn’t want any help nor to be told where things could be found. They had this process down; they certainly had enough practice. Each employee was given a banker’s box and instructed only to take personal belongings. The boxes would be inspected for sensitive customer information.
She knew this was only the beginning. Later would come inquests, hearings, possibly even charges for financial misconduct and fraud. She had her plan for everything she could think of, but what if they found something she wasn’t prepared for? She hated to think what might turn up in a decade of careless loan files. Her late nights this week at the shredder could only protect her so much.
Samantha boxed up her things. She had been prepared for everything but the indignity. The humiliation of it nearly reduced her to tears.
By the time she stepped out of her office, Tommy, Vicky, and Mona were already gone, as were the two new loan officers Alamo Trust had placed there after the merger.
Cox waited for her in front of the elevator, his banker’s box tucked under one arm. She carried hers with both hands and met him there. Neither pushed the button right away.
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