by Cheryl Wyatt
Not on purpose.
Where the thought came from, Manny couldn’t be sure, but for the first time since his son’s drowning, he began to believe it. How many times had he heard, “Accidents happen,” and wanted to scream back, “But they don’t have to.” Every accident Manny could think of was one-hundred-percent preventable. He’d never been able to accept platitudes, especially since that particular accident ripped a human life from this earth and Manny’s heart out, then destroyed his marriage and led to his wife’s suicide. Or accidental overdose, he didn’t know which.
Regardless, the accident had torn two people from his arms, and incapacitated Manny with torturous guilt that wouldn’t let him enjoy life outside of being a PJ and rescuing people. He didn’t think he deserved God’s forgiveness. Though he believed it, he hadn’t been able to forgive himself until coming into the covenant refuge a relationship with God provided.
Should he pray? Manny wished Joel were here. He’d know what to do. He went in the kitchen to call Celia.
“Knew you’d be awake. Can you come down? I’m in need of a mental makeover, and I have it on good faith you’re a pro at those.”
Within minutes Celia arrived. Armed with an arsenal of cocoa packets, she put water on to boil in the kitchen. Manny strode over to stare out the door’s oval glass. His phone chimed. He eyed the time on its face. Midnight. He didn’t recognize the number, but it looked local. He flipped open the phone.
“Manny, that you?”
Manny stepped past Celia to the outside and tugged the front door shut a little too hard. “Where are you, Javier? Your mother’s worried sick.”
A swallow. “I know. Look, can I come by and bring a friend?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether I want to be here to see you scalped.”
“She’s that mad, huh?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Maybe if she knew where I was, she wouldn’t be. I don’t know. Maybe she’d be even madder. Look, I got someone here in real trouble. I—I know I don’t deserve it, but we need help. Manny, I need you. I don’t know where else to turn for help.”
Through huge picture windows flanking the massive, beveled-glass front door, Manny canvassed the living room. He’d lost sight of Celia. The wingback chair she’d been lounging in sat empty. “Your mother is here.”
“Where are Amber and Bradley?”
“Spending the weekend at the pond. How far away are you?”
“Couple blocks. Mom have her bag?”
“That suitcase-looking thing lined with more studs than a rhinestone cowboy’s rodeo ring?”
Javier snickered. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“No. She came down here in a hurry. She just has her humongous purse.”
“I’ll stop by the house and get her bag. Mom can’t go too long without her makeup.”
Manny laughed. “You’re probably right. You trying to butter her up?”
“Something like that.”
“Then butter me up too, because you have some explaining to do. Bring marshmallows and extra gloves if you have any.”
“Got gloves. No marshmallows. Mom says we can’t afford them. We’ll be there in a sec. Pray Mom won’t blow her top when she sees who’s with me.”
“Girlfriend in trouble?”
“No! Dude, yuck. Trust me when I say I’m still in that ‘girls are gross’ stage.”
He snorted at the cell phone. “Ri-ight.”
“Okay, there are some pretty chicks out there, but seriously, I have no inclination to pursue them until I have my career squared away. I promised that to my dad when he had the big abstinence talk with me weeks before he passed away.”
“Then you mind giving me a clue about who’s coming with?”
“Enrique.”
The son of Joseph’s murderer.
“He called. I felt like I needed to go find him. He wasn’t at his house so I cut through the park on my way back home, and saw him. He was gonna blow his brains out or take a bunch of pills. I talked him out of it and we’ve been walking around. I didn’t have a phone to call, and I didn’t want to leave him alone. He was scared to come to my mom’s house, but he said he’d come to yours. Well, Joel’s.”
“I understand. I think your mom will, too. Why’s he want to end his life? Did he say?”
“Yeah. Thinks everyone hates him. All the kids at school shun him because of what happened. Everyone in town knew my dad.”
“And his dad murdered yours.”
“Right.”
“Now you’re helping him.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”
“Javier, I’ve never been so proud to call someone my friend.”
“What? Ah, dude, don’t slip. I’ve been telling him all about you. You’re the closest thing I have to a dad now. I bragged about how big and tough and fierce and brave you are. Don’t let me down by acting like Soldier Softie.”
Manny chuckled because Javier sounded serious. “I’ll do my best. His mother know where he is?”
“She’s wasted. Been a drunk since the murder trial.”
Manny thought it really sad, and such a waste of life. “Maybe we can help her, too.”
“Help who?”
Manny turned. “Hey, Celia. Didn’t hear you come out.”
“That’s ’cause I snuck out the side door to see where you went.”
Manny eyed the snowball in her hands. “I think your mom’s about to launch an attack, Javier, so bring your friend and come home.”
Home.
The word trickled through Celia’s heart and mind, warming to her toes. For a moment she let her mind run with the fantasy that they could be a family.
Then she came to her senses. “Was that my son?”
“Yes.”
“I knew he’d call you before me.”
“That bother you?”
“I’m not sure.”
Manny nodded, then ran a hand along the back of his neck, the way he always did when he had hard news to break.
She dropped the snowball. “What?”
“Celia, he has someone with him who might be upsetting for you to see.”
She blanched. “He got a girl prego?”
Manny laughed. “No, I think he’s more into parachutes than girls right now.”
“Well, I don’t know what’s worse. One can make me a grandmother and the other can make me not a mother.”
Manny shook his head. “You’re going to have to try to trust him more, Celia. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”
She huffed. “Okay, hotshot, I’ll try things your way. For one month and that’s it.”
“What if my way works better?”
“Then I’ll try your way more, but don’t expect me to admit it to you.”
“You need to contact me and let me know how he’s doing.”
Panic bolted through her. “Why? You’ll see for yourself.”
“Probably not. Found out today my doctors released me to active duty three weeks from now.”
Celia felt like someone had punched her in the heart. “You’re leaving?”
“’Fraid so.”
She tucked a curl behind her ear, hoping he wouldn’t notice her tremble. “Just like that?”
“Celia, it’s my job. I have to go back. I want to go back.”
“I know. I suppose I should be happy for you.”
Hope flickered in Manny’s eyes. “But?”
Should she tell him? Confess she cared for him more than a friend? But wouldn’t that be voicing the obvious? She got the feeling he was waiting around for her to make a move. It wouldn’t take much to topple head over heels for the guy, and then what? She’d have to wage a war against fear like she’d never known. Every time he’d go on a mission, which would be often, she’d have to wonder if he was coming back.
Was loving Manny worth the risk?
Celia knew the answer to that in a heartbeat. �
��What if I gave you a reason to stay?” she whispered.
“What if you gave me two reasons instead? You and Javier are a package deal, right?”
Tears formed in Celia’s eyes. “You make me so mad.” She stomped for better effect.
His brows cinched together. “Huh?”
“How you always make me cry. And I am not a crier.”
Confusion gave way to the biggest grin she’d ever seen grace Manny’s dark face. He moved close. Celia peered up, half-expecting to see that look he’d had right before he almost kissed her the last time. But his face contained a look of total mischief instead.
“What are you up—?”
Manny surged forward and Celia stiffened against the coldest snow clods she’d ever felt ski down her back.
“You big brute! No fair.” She scooped up a snowball, but he and his cane dove in the front door.
It shut as snow splattered glass.
To Celia’s surprise, a smaller snowball thumped against her back. She spun, expecting to see Manny, but Javier stood with a friend and a grin instead, both pensive.
Celia instantly recognized the boy beside Javier as the short kid from the restaurant. He stared at the ground, looking as scared as he had the day Celia accosted him by the Dumpster. So this was Javier’s mystery friend.
She didn’t sense him to be a threat, though. Instant bullets of compassion hit her for him, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. He looked high or drunk or something. Eyes were red and puffy. Javier looked straight and sober. And scared, whereas the friend looked…scarred.
Mercy fell around her like snowflakes. Swipes sounded as Celia dusted snow off her arms. “Shall we head inside before the sun comes up?”
The boy swallowed and darted a furtive glance at Javier, who eyed her with apprehensive caution. Just the way he did when he knew he’d been hiding something from her and was on the verge of being sniffed out on it.
“Come on, Javier. You, too, Droopy,” Celia said in a teasing tone to the speed busser boy as they entered the house. “Do you need to call your parents and tell them where you are?” She shut the front door.
The boy shook his head emphatically and Celia thought he paled by shades. His gaze dropped to the polished floor like a chunk of wood and stayed there.
“Just why not?” Grinning, Celia planted fists on her hips.
“My dad—doesn’t live at home and my mom’s passed out. I doubt she’d answer the phone.”
“We have to at least try.” Celia tugged Manny’s cell from his belt loop. “What’s your number?”
As the boy rattled off numbers, Celia poked the keypad then paused. “Her name?”
Foreboding spiraled forth as he opened his mouth to answer.
“T-T-Trina Pallazio,” the kid stuttered.
The room froze when Celia’s head snapped up. It seemed ice layers had coated every surface, including humans.
Celia craned her neck. “Excuse me?”
“Trina. Her name’s Trina.” Distress apprehended the boy.
“Pallazio. As in the wife of Ricky Pallazio?” The man who shot her husband then left him to bleed to death?
“Yes.” The kid eyed the door and made a move toward it.
Celia beat him there.
Dismay and anger whisked her world off-kilter. One part of her whispered, “Stop and be reasonable.” Another screamed at the top of the lungs of injustice. What on earth was her husband’s killer’s son doing with hers? Why hadn’t Manny prepared her for this meeting? What was it all about anyway?
Whatever it was, she was far from ready for it.
She whirled on Manny, knowing he rode her heels into the foyer. “How could you do this to me, Manny? You should have told me instead of let me stumble into this situation blind.”
Chapter Twenty
Manny shook his head at her and jabbed a pointer finger at the front door. She needed to cool her jets anyway. He refused to second-guess himself. If he’d told her, she would have fled.
Period.
Three seconds. If he could just get her to hush and listen for that long, he could convince her of Enrique’s bleak existence. The kid needed her forgiveness and needed it bad. Judging by Enrique’s devastated then despondent countenance at Celia’s outburst, his very life may depend on it.
Celia left the house as if flames in the floor kissed her soles. She stormed off the porch and onto the sidewalk before the door had a chance to slam shut.
And slam it did, right in Manny’s face, leaving an ominous echo in the room to go with the formidable chill.
Manny pivoted and set a sustaining hand on Enrique’s frail shoulder. “Wait here. We’ll work this out. Don’t worry.”
The kid swallowed and looked very unsure. Javier invited him to play a video game. Enrique pulled something from a plastic baggie and handed it to Manny. He mumbled something about it being a gift for Celia, then reluctantly followed Javier, who lured him to the game room.
Satisfied they’d be all right for now, Manny stuffed Enrique’s gift into his pocket. He opened the door and stepped outside, wishing he’d put on a jacket. Race tracks carved in the snow indicated Celia had lapped the huge yard seventy-times-seven and was now approaching the street. “Wait, Cel.”
She whirled, hair wild, arms tight across her chest. Angry tears streaked down both cheeks, leaving black mascara trails. Manny’s feet crunched across snow to her, remembering too late he forgot his cane. He’d been walking on it less and less.
“You knew?”
“Just barely.”
A harsh, gurgling sound grated up her throat. She put her back to him.
He reached for her, snagging her coat before she could tromp off. The motion tugged her off balance and she slipped on the ice. Manny tried to keep her from falling but his own feet slid in the meantime. They both went down, she on her bottom, he on his hip.
Something audibly popped.
He lay back and groaned.
Sitting up, Celia slapped hands to her mouth. “Oh! Your hip! Oh! I broke it again!”
Manny shook his head and sat up. Snow covered their backs. “It wasn’t my hip.”
She shuddered. “I heard something pop!”
“Yup.” He lifted his derriere and pulled out an exploded bag of baby marshmallows from his back pocket. “Enrique brought them as a peace offering but he was afraid to hand them to you himself. So I stuck them in my pocket to give to you. When I landed, the bag must have popped, letting the air out.”
“Hey! They cushioned your fall!”
“Yeah, squished the marshmallows though. Maybe you should spring for them more often. They only cost sixty-seven cents at Mayberry Market, you know.”
“With a budget as tight as mine, sixty-seven cents is crucial. That’s a box of macaroni, one dinner for Javier and me. It’s either lipstick or marshmallows, and I’m not about to—”
“Go without your lipstick. I know. Mind helping me up?” He reached his hand to her.
Celia stared at it a second before standing and gripping it. “I guess we should stop playing in the street, eh?”
“Yeah.”
She tugged him up, then dropped his hand like the hot end of a glue gun. Dismay and confusion clouded Celia’s eyes as she blinked at the house. “I don’t need this right now.”
The vulnerability in her muttered words tugged Manny’s heart and told him she neared the end of her rope, and not just with Javier. It touched him that she’d allowed him that small glimpse of fear and hurt.
He stepped closer. “Celia, please hear me out.”
Her gaze reached deep into him and she didn’t step back.
“I know you and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff. In fact, you can hardly stand the sight of me.” He grinned.
Both arms fell to her sides. “Not true. At least, not anymore.”
He chuckled. “Well, you’re honest. Look, I know you disagree with my advice regarding Javier sometimes. Okay, much of the time, but—”
; She propped hands on her hips. “What makes you say that?”
He bit back a grin. “The way you squish your nose up like you’ve been baptized in pickle juice every time I say anything.”
“Oh. Well, I do that to everyone. I’m not good at covering my facial reactions.”
Not a new revelation. “Regardless of how you feel about me, I think I could get through to your son. I wish you would give me a chance.”
“I can’t very well argue with that. Javier respects you, Manny, like…” She drew a breath.
“Like his dad?” Manny finished for her.
Tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them fiercely, but more surfaced. She clicked her tongue and huffed out white breath, he figured more out of irritation for crying than anything. “Yes.” Her eyes averted. “Like his dad.”
Manny had to concentrate to keep his feet from moving forward. He should have been concentrating on his arms, too, because they snaked out to brush a comforting thumb along her arm. “You miss him, don’t you?”
Surprisingly, she didn’t budge. Didn’t flinch even.
He took another step forward, putting them forearm’s length away. She blinked once. A faraway look drove her tortured gaze to the glow of city lights where Javier’d said their home was. The one she’d shared with Joseph. “Very much.”
“You don’t have to hide your pain from me. I understand the suffocating grief of losing a loved one.”
“I know,” she whispered. White breath puffed out. Her gaze dulled. “It’s just awkward to talk about Joseph to you because I—” As if catching herself before spilling her most coveted secret, she gasped. Her eyes widened at him and she clamped her mouth shut.
He moved closer. “You what? Please say it. Admit to both of us that you care for me more than as a friend.”
“It’s just weird, okay? Trust me on that.”
“Speaking of trust, hear Javier out. For once, don’t interrupt or go on a rampage until he’s had a chance to explain.”
“Fine. But it better be good because you have no idea how hard it is for me to even be in the same room with that kid.”
“If you think it’s hard for you, imagine how Javier feels. And Enrique.”