Lost in the Light

by Mary Castillo

  "You want one?" he asked, holding up his cup. "There's a place across the street."

  She grinned and nodded.

  "With two sugars, right?"

  "Yes, please."

  He winked like it was old times. "Got it."

  As she walked towards Mia, Dori nodded to the patrol cops. One raised his hand in greeting; the other one only gave a curt nod. For a fraction of a second, she wished she was at home with her slippers on her feet and a cup of dragon pearls tea in her hand and maybe Gavin's arm around her shoulders.

  The image of him came out of nowhere. She nearly halted mid-stride but she recovered and pretended that the empty feeling in her chest was from the cold.

  "Hi, I'm Detective Orihuela. How are you holding up?" Dori said, holding her hand out to Mia.

  "Are they taking Yvonne to the hospital or what?" Mia asked, eyeing her from head to toe and back before deciding to take her hand. "She drove, and my car's back at the mall."

  "Did you call your parents?"

  "They're in Vegas."

  "Is there anyone you can call for a ride?"

  Mia hesitated and then glanced away as if she were looking for someone. "My boyfriend."

  Dori sat on the bumper next to her. "Have you called him yet?"

  "No."

  "You can if you don't mind waiting a little longer."

  "For what?" She edged away.

  "For you to tell me who jacked you guys."

  "I saw you talking to your partner. Didn't he tell you?"

  Dori stayed quiet and noted that Mia was wearing two dangly earrings.

  "We were depositing the cash and checks," Mia finally said. "We closed up and drove over here. These two dudes came out of nowhere, grabbed me and then threw her-"

  Her voice cracked, and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

  Dori held out a tissue from the small package she kept in her pocket. "Take your time, okay?"

  Irritated by the gesture, Mia snatched it out of Dori's hand. She was careful not to smudge her make-up.

  "Keep going. You're doing fine."

  "I had the deposit bag, and they said if I didn't give it over, they'd shoot her," Mia continued. "Aren't you going to write any of this down?"

  "I will. I just want to listen to what you've got to say."

  "Whatever. I have class tomorrow and she needs to see a doctor."

  "Yvonne was on the ground, and you had the deposit bag," Dori prompted, checking the girl's tights for rips and tears from having been on the ground.

  "He held a gun to her head. I thought he was going to shoot her and I froze. The other guy, he grabbed my hair, and that's when I thought they were going to do it. The bag just fell and he took it and then he pointed the gun at me and told me to get on the ground. Then I heard them run and drive away."

  "Where did they drive off?"

  "I didn't look."

  "Can you show me where you were standing?"

  Mia slid off the bumper and took Dori to the spot where she'd found the earring and pointed.

  "Is that yours?" Dori asked, gesturing to the earring.

  Mia shook her head.

  "Is it Yvonne's?"

  "I don't know," she said, her voice was high and tight. She hugged herself, and Dori could see her knuckles turning white.

  Elliot was still at the coffeehouse across the street, so Dori waved Jimmy over. "Check and see if this earring belongs to Yvonne."

  "Sure thing." He looked down at it and then took off.

  Dori looked over at Mia. "You want a coffee or something?"

  "What? No."

  "Has this thing happened before?"

  "To me?"

  "To anyone at the store or the mall."

  "No."

  "Were one of the guys wearing this earring?"

  Mia's mouth opened and then she shut it and shook her head.

  Dori repressed a grin as the whole thing started to take shape in her mind. She let Mia stew in the silence, wondering how long it would take for the girl to come out with it.

  Jimmy came back. "The other girl isn't missing an earring."

  Dori looked at Mia. "Guess we'll have to test it and find our guys that way."

  Mia's face stiffened with fear.

  "Call your boyfriend," Dori said.

  "Why?"

  "Unless you have some reason you want me to drive you home."

  "Here you go," Elliot said, returning with the coffee. "How you holding up, Mia?"

  Mia stared down at the earring, her jaw clenched tight. Elliot raised his eyebrow at Dori, but she gave nothing away.

  "So the manager called me," Elliot said. "He's on the way over but the store has been having problems balancing their drawers with the cash."

  Dori then asked, "You know anything about that Mia?"

  She came home the next morning at 7:30, confident that as long as there were stupid people in the world she would always have a job. She should've been crawling on her hands and knees from exhaustion, but she still rode the high of having made two arrests. Elliot was a bit warmer. They had a little ways to go but her life was right back where she'd left off.

  "That's a rather satisfied look on your face."

  Dori stopped and then realized it was Meg standing up from the top step and dusting off the back of her skirt. Two cups stood next to her purse.

  "How long have you been waiting here?"

  "Maybe five minutes." Meg opened her arms for a hug, and Dori realized how much she'd missed her.

  "Sorry, I've been working since ten thirty last night."

  "I was hoping it was something more illicit than that," Meg teased as if months hadn't passed since the last time they'd talked.

  "Is that for me?" Dori asked.

  "It's tea. I figured if you were working or doing more stimulating things, you needed something soothing."

  "Thanks, Meg." She didn't know if she should hug her or just sit down. "I'm sorry for-"

  Meg held out her hand. "Actually I should apologize. I was embarrassed more than hurt."

  "You were right about me being dishonest. I was pretty messed up but it doesn't make it right."

  "Come sit. I've been home for the holiday and well, I've been meaning to give you something."

  Feeling nervous, Dori sat down on the step next to Meg, breathing in the morning air perfumed by her neighbor's juniper trees. She allowed the moment to be simple: the heat of her cup in her hands and her friend sitting next to her.

  "You don't need to give me anything."

  "So, did justice triumph or can you not talk about work?"

  "It triumphed all right, but frankly, it was so easy it's almost embarrassing."

  "How so?"

  "This girl was stealing from her store with her boyfriend. They staged a robbery and threatened her coworker, but the boyfriend's earring fell off at the scene. So when he showed up at the station to pick up the girlfriend, they broke like that."

  Dori thought again how much Mia kind of reminded her of her teenaged self, except she had never been that ruthless. For eight hundred cash, Mia had cruelly set up an innocent girl so her whole scheme would look authentic.

  "You like your work again?"

  "I never stopped liking it, I just-" Dori shrugged, not wanting to think about the unraveling mess she'd been when they first met. That period in her life made her more compassionate, but it also made her grateful to be back to normal. "Let's just say I took a detour."

  Meg nodded.

  "So what's up?" Dori asked.

  "You mean why am I sitting on your porch after months of not talking to you?"

  Dori nodded.

  Meg took in a deep breath, as if debating what to say. Dori braced herself for it. "I found Anna Vazquez."

  A little earthquake shook her at the sound of that name. She'd given up the search after that night she started her medication. Guilt and all sorts of feelings she couldn't name kept her from seeking out Vicente. The house had gone completely quiet. No m
ore replays of the scene downstairs, or his sudden appearances that she'd once looked forward to.

  And yet, she'd wondered what happened after he got Anna out of jail. But then she'd snuff out her curiosity. What did it matter? She knew the end to his story and there was no going back to change things.

  "And?"

  "She's dead."

  "When?"

  "Would you believe she died four days ago?"

  Feeling slightly nauseous, Dori set the cup down between her feet. "Are you sure it's the right one?"

  "I did my cross referencing, using the dates and names you gave me. It was the same woman, except her married name was Campbell." Meg handed her a manila file folder. Neon colored tabs fluttered in the slight breeze.

  Dori's hands were numb as she flipped it open and saw that Meg had found Anna's New Mexico birth certificate from 1911, her parent's death certificates, her marriage certificate and finally, her obituary. Anna lived to be 101 years old and would be buried next week from today at La Vista Cemetery. Chills radiated from the top of her scalp down through her body.

  "I can't believe you found all of this."

  "There's more." Meg handed her another folder. "This is from David."

  Dori took the folder and opened it. It was a ledger page and next to the date, April 15, 1932 was the bold signature Vincent Sorelle. He'd signed into the Penthouse. She covered her mouth, the page shaking in her hand.

  Vicente's signature went blurry. She remembered the desperation in his voice that last night. He'd come so close to begging but she'd still turned her back on him.

  Meg held out another tissue in Dori's face. "Thank you," she said, carefully setting the folder down between them.

  "It all matched up, and once I started looking, I found her," Meg said. "Read the interview with her."

  "What interview?"

  Meg reached down and opened the file. She handed Dori a photocopied news story from 1985. Three Old Town National City women had been crowned barrio queens and profiled about the old days. Anna stared straight into the camera, her lips touched with a serene, regal grace that Vicente had described so well. She had been in her seventies, but she looked ten years younger.

  "Well then, I'll leave you to it," Meg said, getting up.

  Dori grabbed her arm. "You don't know what this means to me."

  Meg looked down at the ground as if embarrassed.

  "How about dinner? My treat," Dori offered.

  "There's no need to pay me."

  "Who said I was paying you?"

  "Let's do lunch after Anna's funeral. You, me and Grammy will toast to her long life."

  Dori's eyes stung.

  Meg smiled. "But dinner tonight would be a good start."

  They set a time to meet at Café La Maze, hugged extra tight and then Meg walked to her car. Dori stayed on the step, reading the article. She'd married Rick Campbell, a former federal agent, on August 16, 1933. She flipped back to the obituary. He'd died in 1982, and they had three sons and a daughter. They had lost one son to the Korean War.

  She almost went to the ledger page, wanting to trace his name with her finger. But the guilt hovered and Dori walked into the house on stiff, cold feet. She paused in the doorway, staring at the dark butler's pantry where Vicente had materialized out of thin air. She owed him the truth.

  "Vicente?" Her voice sounded too loud in the kitchen. "Vicente? I found her."

  Something snapped in the wall upstairs. Dori hurried up the servant's staircase, clutching her file that contained proof of his and Anna's life.

  The upstairs hallway was just as she'd left it: lights off and doors closed. "Vicente, she lived."

  He didn't even make a cold spot.

  "Where are you?"

  Dori waited until she was certain he wasn't going to step out of the walls or tap her on the shoulder. She leaned on the banister, feeling as if she'd lost her best friend. It wasn't right - much less normal - to think of him that way, but there it was. If she'd moved faster, maybe hadn't fought with Meg, she might have shared the contents of the file in her hand before he'd disappeared.

  She jumped when a banging noise rang through the house. "Is that you?"

  The knocking sounded again followed by Oscar, Gavin's foreman, calling her name. Dori closed her eyes and straightened her spine. She told herself to accept it for what it was. As she walked down the stairs, towards the smell of drying paint in the hallway, she left behind the promise she'd made. Maybe he was at rest and now it was time to move on. This would be a memory - a fantastic, weird one - but it would belong to a chapter that had made her stronger.

  The foreman knocked again, and she hurried to open the door.

  Standing next to Oscar, her mother's face popped out from behind a potted tree. "Wow you look great but can I just say that I was hoping you'd quit?"

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Brenda's greeting was like a smack in the face.

  Oscar took a step back. "Just wanted to say hi," he said. "We'll get started."

  "Thanks Oscar," Dori said. "There are sodas and snacks up here if you guys need anything."

  He waved, already at the other side of the deck.

  "Hey mom, what are you doing here?"

  "May I come in?"

  Dori hesitated but stepped aside to let her in. "Perfect timing," she said. "I just got back from my shift."

  "Do you have to work again tonight?"

  She shook her head, wary of her mother's cheery attitude. "I go back on Tuesday."

  Brenda tried to set the plant on the table but it scraped the ceiling. She placed it on the floor and then stood, not sure if she should sit down. "It looks like the house is coming along."

  "They're almost done with some painting and plastering. I'm getting the wood refinished in a couple of months."

  "Oh, that's good."

  They stood there, not knowing what else to say.

  "So, do you want-"

  "I just came by to-"

  They both paused and then told each other, "You go first."

  Dori gestured for Brenda to speak.

  "I wanted to apologize for the last time we spoke," she said, gripping her hands together. "Cleve has been talking to me about it all this time and well I…" Brenda's voice shuddered and then drifted away.

  Not knowing what was safe to say, Dori asked, "Do you want to see the house?"

  "You're not mad at me?"

  "Not anymore," she said, somewhat surprised that she actually meant it. "I was hurt and uh, disappointed but I-" She then placed her fists on her hips. "What do you mean you wish I quit?"

  Brenda dropped down on the chair. Dori braced herself for an outburst, but instead her mother cleared her throat and said, "I thought you'd quit everything. The police and the house. I guess I–" She looked down at her hands.

  "You guess what?"

  "I thought that you looked so defeated that I- Well maybe for the first time, you would need me."

  Dori's insides got all shaky as she went about the business of making tea. Her mother had been almost gleeful that day they met for lunch. Is that what she'd wanted all this time, for Dori to get some kind of comeuppance? But for what?

  She set down two cups and then took a seat.

  "Ever since you could walk, I never felt like you needed me," Brenda said, breaking their silence. "And so when you were in the hospital with the whole-" She pointed at Dori's side. "I thought you might need me and well, you didn't. You were so together and once again, I didn't know what to do."

  Dori tried to sort it out in her head. The only response she came up with was, "I wasn't together if that's any consolation."

  Brenda's chin shot up. "That's not what I meant."

  "I've been seeing a therapist since I was in the hospital." She then detailed her panic attacks, the fear she'd lost her mind and finally, the meeting with David, Kaylee's cousin.

  She paused, wanting her mom to feel the weight of her burdens. "I just finished my prescription for antidepress
ants and I'm not sure I'm ready to stop seeing my therapist."

  Brenda blinked four times and then on a long sigh said,"Fuck."

  "Mom!"

  "Cleve had a feeling and I- What kind of mother am I that I was so blind?" Brenda shrank in her seat. Dori waited with her fists clenched for her mother to turn it all around on her and make it her fault.

  "You three kids were the best things that came out of my marriage to your father. I went about a lot of things the wrong way and I-" Brenda shook her head. "I realize that I was so caught in my own stuff that I wasn't there for you guys. It's my fault that we're all so broken."

  Dori wished she had something stronger than tea as she entered strange new territory with her mother. "Do you regret marrying dad?" And having us, she thought to herself.

  Brenda titled her head and said with a note of surprise. "No. I had a- What do you call it? An ephemera?"

  "Epiphany."

  "You were always so good with words," she muttered. "Yes, one of those. If I hadn't married your father, I wouldn't have had you kids. And then, if it hadn't been for Robbie's wedding, I wouldn't have had that terrible fight with your father and I wouldn't have left and then found Cleve."

  Brenda sat back, daring Dori to debate her logic.

  "Nothing is wasted," Brenda continued. "Not even the bad stuff. Actually, I think we really need the bad stuff. It's like plant fertilizer."

  Dori stared at the person who looked like her mother, but sure as hell didn't sound like the woman she'd known her whole life.

  "Anyway, I got you something," Brenda said, pointing to the plant in case Dori missed it.

  "Thank you." Dori peered down at the clay pot. It was in a swirling pattern of red, blue and purple. There was writing etched into the side.

  Brenda squirmed with cautious pleasure. "You like it? You don't think it's too much?"

  "What does it say," Dori said, moving closer to read the inscription. May your home always be too small to hold all of your friends.

  "I took a pottery class and I made it as your Christmas gift."

  Dori laid her fingers on the writing. They had only talked on the phone during Christmas. She'd spent it in New York with Sela.

  "Well? What do you think?" Brenda asked. "It's okay if you don't like it. I could always take it home."

  "I won't let you do that. I really like it. Thank you."