by Leah Atwood
He put her number into his cell phone. “Thank you.”
After saying good-bye, he headed to the truck to follow the ambulance.
About two hours later, he drove his grandfather home. The latter wasn’t happy at all about being dragged to the hospital “for a simple fall.”
Arturo got his grandfather situated and checked his blood glucose. Satisfied that it was normal, he went to make baked tilapia, steamed rice, and a garden salad. Good thing his grandfather had taught him to cook, though Arturo almost never used those skills in Houston. While Arturo was putting the fish in the oven and cutting lettuce and tomatoes, his thoughts drifted back to football.
Football was his life.
If he read anything, it was player interviews and stats. If he browsed the Internet, it was for game scores. If he watched a movie, it was about football. If he went out to eat, it was usually a place with a flat-screen TV showing sports. And whenever he was with friends, who were all his teammates, the conversation was about touchdowns, field goals, running routes, formations, and plays. The last thought before he went to bed was about football. The first thought when he woke up was about football. His thoughts at night were probably about that, too, because he constantly dreamed of games.
It was as if he lived on a planet that revolved around football. It wasn’t a part of his identity. It was his entire identity. Leaving that planet was unthinkable at this point in his life.
Arturo clenched his teeth as he cut onions and checked on the fish, its mouthwatering scent failing to improve his mood. If he was forced to retire at some point, to take care of Grandpa or possibly because of his own injuries, could he find life in a different universe, on a planet that revolved around a different star?
Was there really life after football?
He knew what his coaches or teammates would say. That he was crazy to even think that.
Arturo was about to call Lana to let her know that Grandpa was okay when somebody knocked on the door.
As he opened it, he couldn’t help smiling. “Lana…”
“I only have a minute, but I wanted to know how your grandfather is doing.”
“Thankfully, the X-rays didn’t show any fractured bones. CT scan looked fine, too.”
“Glad to hear it.” Her smile was genuine and sincere. “Gotta leave now. I’m running behind schedule today.” Lana headed to her car.
While yesterday’s evening outfit was nicer, today’s raspberry-colored scrubs fit her much better than her gray ones. She wore her hair in two braids today. He hadn’t seen anyone wearing braids in a long time. It suited her and made her look younger than before.
She slipped inside the car, waved at him, and took off.
She was obviously attractive and had a lot to offer. Then why was she single?
Arturo closed the door. He shouldn’t care. And yet he did.
After getting to know her better, it didn’t feel right to run a background investigation on her. Arturo pulled up his email account on his cell phone and sent Sean an email, canceling the investigation.
He wanted to know more about Grandpa’s beautiful nurse. But it felt more honest to do it the old-fashioned way, by spending time with her.
* * *
Wednesday evening, Lana parked near the De La Vegas’ house and jumped out of her car with enthusiasm she hadn’t felt since she was a schoolgirl. Usually, her limbs felt heavy at the end of a workday, and she’d be barely able to put one foot in front of the other.
Not today.
She leaped up the steps and knocked on the door, a grin spreading over her face.
Nobody answered her knock.
Hmmm. The red truck Arturo had bought for his grandfather was in the driveway. And from what she knew, his grandfather didn’t venture outside of the house much these days.
She knocked again, this time louder. Still no answer.
The sound of the saw reached her from the yard. Well, that explained it.
She went to the gate and tugged on the padlock. Thankfully, the gate was open. She stepped inside the yard. Massive oaks stood guard, joined by mesquite trees. She lingered for a moment, touched the rough bark, breathed in the scent that reminded her of her favorite foster parents, the Smiths. Her mind drifted back to one wonderful summer day when she was eleven.
The Smith family had been grilling beef fajitas over mesquite wood in the backyard, the delectable aroma causing her to want to snatch a piece right from the grill. She wouldn’t dare, of course. Two of her foster siblings had been jumping on the trampoline, their laughter traveling through the neighborhood. Lana and Clara Smith had gone to the kitchen to make fresh lemonade. Lana had drunk the first glass, enjoying its cold, tangy taste.
The kitchen had filled with the scent of cinnamon and baked apple as Clara had taught her how to make an apple pie. And then Clara had asked her whether she’d like to join their family forever. After all, even their last names had matched, though Lana’s had been a made-up one, with no one knowing her real last name.
That had been a wonderful day. The best.
Family.
Forever.
Such beautiful words. She’d tried them on her tongue that day, and they had tasted sweet like honey.
Until the taste had turned sharp, burning more than a thousand peppers.
Just a week later, Clara found out she was pregnant with triplets after many years of unsuccessful trying. Tears had stood in Clara’s eyes when she’d said they wouldn’t be able to adopt Lana, or even have time for foster kids.
It’s okay. I understand. Nothing can be done. I’m happy for you. Congratulations.
She’d cried herself to sleep that night. The next day, she’d made a jug of lemonade and dropped it on the floor. While gathering the shards, she’d cut her fingers. Entirely by accident. Everybody knew she was prone to accidents. Her dream of ever having a family had been broken into pieces, too, and she’d stared at the shards while blood had dripped from her fingers to the tiled floor.
The noise made by the saw stopped, and she jerked back to the present. She headed to the shed and passed the ramp and white railings. The ramp had replaced the steps to the back porch, which would make it possible for Grandfather De La Vega to reach the backyard in a wheelchair. The railings provided support if he could still walk. Arturo had worked fast, and it warmed her heart that she literally had added her personal touch by painting the railings.
The light evening breeze brought male voices from the shed’s direction. Grandfather De La Vega and Arturo.
She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she didn’t want to turn around and leave, either.
“I like spending time with Lana. She means something to me.” Arturo’s voice was coated with conviction but not forceful, as if he was trying to request something and prove his point at the same time.
“But can you keep it… not personal? Por favor.” Grandfather De La Vega’s voice was full of doubt.
“I have to.”
Lana froze.
It was okay. She understood. Nothing could be done.
Sharp pain awoke inside her, ripping apart pieces of her like a hungry wolf would rip apart a deer. She wanted to turn around and run, escape, break a glass, cry, scream. Anything to let this pain out.
Instead, she took a deep breath and then another one. Arturo had never promised her anything. And he’d said she meant something to him. She couldn’t run away, like she’d done when she was fourteen. Not when the success of Operation Grandpa depended on her participation.
Once her hands stopped shaking, she knocked on the shed’s door to announce her arrival.
“Come on in,” Arturo’s grandfather said after a short pause.
Entering, she breathed in the scent of wood mixed with that of paint. Arturo held a saw over a long board while his grandpa worked on staining an old chair.
“Good evening.” She pasted a smile on her face. She’d do her best with what she had. She always did. She’d learned not to ask for too much. A
nd surely the affection of a famous football player would be more than she could hope for.
“Good evening, Lana.” Arturo’s lips widened, as if he were really glad to see her.
Don’t read too much into it.
“Good evening, my favorite nurse.” Grandfather De La Vega greeted her from the wheelchair.
She tensed. “Why are you in a wheelchair? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No. My grandson brought it so I wouldn’t step on the wound and make it worse.” His wrinkles deepened around his eyes.
“Oh. Okay.” Something she should’ve thought of herself. She was a nurse, after all.
“Well, kiddos, I think mi nieto used my free labor for long enough. I’m going to take an afternoon nap.”
Lana quirked an eyebrow as she held the door open for him. “Afternoon nap?”
“A nap is a nap. It’s good at any time.” Grandfather De La Vega wheeled himself out.
She and Arturo accompanied his grandpa to the ramp, and she held the back door while Arturo wheeled his grandfather inside the house.
After making sure the latter was comfortable in his rocker and had a phone nearby for anything he needed, Arturo and Lana returned to the shed.
“Well, you’re welcome to use my free labor. What can I do?” She injected her voice with as much perkiness as she could. At least today she was dressed appropriately in jeans and a sweatshirt and wasn’t afraid to dirty them. Feeling courageous, she gestured to the saw. “Could I try this?”
“Okay. Just be careful.” Arturo showed her how to measure and mark the line. “Now slowly move the saw along this line. This part of the saw should follow it.”
Hoping she could handle the weight, she grabbed the handle. Okay, she could do it. His closer proximity unnerved her. “Like this?”
“Yes. Now press that orange button on top.”
She did, and the saw moved forward faster than she’d expected. She managed not to shriek or drop the instrument. She even cut off a relatively straight piece of wood. Done, she handed the saw back to him. The instrument was strong and loud, and it made her heart expand in her chest. Okay, now she somewhat understood men’s fascination with power tools. But she couldn’t imagine doing it for a long time. Her arms ached already.
“Um, could I do something else?”
“Would you like to stain?” He waved at the chair that lacked the dark color and glossiness of the one his grandfather had worked on.
“Sure.”
He handed her rubber gloves. “Put on gloves so that you don’t get stain on your fingers. Be careful not to get it on your clothes or your hair. It dries quickly and it’s difficult to wash out. Well, maybe staining isn’t a good idea.”
“It’s fine.” She put on the gloves, dipped the brush into the can, doing her best not to breathe in the harsh chemical scent, and started moving it along the smooth wooden surface.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said after cutting another piece from the board. “And not only because you’re trying to help me.”
Remember, he belongs to the world you’ve done your best to escape. But there was no denying she was drawn to him, even after what she’d overheard.
Lana finished staining the chair’s upper part and lowered herself to the floor to take care of its legs. She needed to ease Arturo slowly into Operation Grandpa. Even if that meant Arturo would leave Rios Azules sooner rather than later. Her heart squeezed in her chest, as if she missed him already. “For your grandfather’s sake and your own, we need to enlist help.”
His eyes narrowed, and he placed the saw aside. “I won’t put him in a nursing home.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that. You might want to get a companion for him.” Done with the chair’s legs, she surveyed her work and rose to her feet. Then she began to tackle the next chair.
Arturo measured several long pieces of wood and cut them. He grabbed a hammer and proceeded to put in nails. Oh, so the board was becoming a table. “You mean, like a sitter? I tried. Grandpa got rid of every one of them. Same for the nurses.” He hit the nail on the head. Hard.
Lana moved the chair and herself away from him and the hammer. Just in case. “I have an idea. How about a blind date?”
His jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“For your grandfather. I know just the lady. Well, she’s a bit older than your grandfather…” Okay, another chair done. She liked the sense of accomplishment, though she was getting slightly dizzy, probably from all the fumes. Because Arturo couldn’t be affecting her that way. Right.
Arturo’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
Lana studied him before moving on to the fourth chair. This was going to be more difficult than she’d thought.
“I’d like to set up your grandfather with a great lady,” she said louder and slower than usual. “What do you think?”
He returned to his work. “I have to admit that the idea of Grandpa dating is a bit strange to me.”
How could she be so insensitive? She slapped her forehead, sending several droplets into her hair. Oops. She recalled Arturo’s warning and sighed. She’d probably have to cut those strands. “I know that nobody can replace your grandmother.”
“I want my grandfather to be happy. But he has a difficult character. To put it mildly. He can be rather…” He set the table aside and paused, as if trying to find the word.
“Ornery?” She caught herself. “No offense.” Lana moved to the fourth chair before the brush dried and she had to get another one.
“None taken. You’ll probably have to set up lots of, um, dates, before you find someone Grandpa likes.” He started sanding the table and, by the looks of it, was much better at it than she was.
“I don’t think so. Evelyn has a strong character. She’s smart, tough, and persistent. Oh, and I can assure you she’s not a gold digger. She owns several businesses in town. She used to own even more, but she sold them to have more personal time. According to Mari, Evelyn is one of the most influential women in town, if not the most influential.” Lana sat down on the floor again to take care of the chair’s legs and stole a glance in Arturo’s direction.
“Is she one of your patients?” A frown marred his forehead.
Arturo was probably concerned about taking care of two people instead of one. She turned to the chair and got back to work. “No. Mari introduced us. She’s known Evelyn for ages since her friend is Evelyn’s granddaughter. Evelyn also goes to the same church I do. And, by the way, your grandfather seemed interested when I mentioned Evelyn to him. There’s a small catch, though…”
The sound of sandpaper moving against the surface stopped. “A catch?”
After a couple more strokes, she got up. All done. “Your grandfather is about ten years younger than Evelyn. Just like her previous boyfriend. They recently broke up because he moved closer to his grandchildren in Montana. Would you like me to stain the shelf?” She gestured to the long piece of wood she assumed was a shelf. Or perhaps part of another table, or of a dresser.
“Yes, please.” He resumed sanding but had a faraway look, probably doing mental calculations of Evelyn’s age. Judging by his widened eyes, the number he’d arrived at was rather impressive. “Is she...?”
Lana put aside the brush and chose a roller and a tray with a liner. Then she bee-lined around the chairs, careful not to touch the surfaces. “In good health? Yes. It’s just there’s not many men still alive in her age group. She says that she likes them when they are still able to do things.”
Arturo coughed. “I’m almost afraid to ask what those things are.”
Pouring stain into the tray, Lana hid a smile. “I don’t want to know, myself. But seriously, Evelyn is awesome.” She moved the roller along the tray, careful not to soak in too much stain, and attacked the shelf.
“How exactly would my grandfather dating help me?” Arturo turned the table over and sanded the inside.
“You’ll see. I have some other ideas, too. Ones that involve Mari, Lady Grace, a
nd other people. Just trust me.” She wanted it to work so badly. She looked at him again. Just couldn’t help it.
Something flicked in his eyes, but then he nodded. “Okay.”
She gave a mental fist pump.
“How is the preparation for the Christmas gift drive for veterans going?” he asked.
Her shoulders sagged as she diligently moved the roller along the shelf’s surface. “Not great. It seemed too late to start it only weeks before Christmas. We’ll still have our regular Christmas toy drive…” Her voice trailed off.
Arturo set the table upright and moved over to her. “Do you need more gifts?”
She nodded, doing her best to hide her miserable expression. “Yep. Or we won’t have enough for everybody. It wouldn’t be fair.” Done with the shelf, she slid the roller cover off and put the roller in its place. “Where do I put the cover?”
“I’ll take care of it.” His forehead creased as if he were deep in thought. “Are you busy this evening?”
She started taking off her gloves but stopped. “Let me guess. You need me to stain the table you just sanded?”
“Not exactly. How’d you like to go shopping with me?”
She stared at him. “Shopping?”
“Yes.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Shopping with you.” She caught herself before repeating it again. Now he probably thought she was hard of hearing. Common sense told her it wouldn’t be a good idea to spend more time with Arturo. She needed to talk to him about the details of Operation Grandpa and leave. At her request, Mari had teamed up with her friend, Evelyn’s granddaughter, Lydia, to work the Evelyn angle. But really, how long would it take a man to shop? Fifteen minutes, half an hour tops?
Then it hit her. “Oh, you want my help in choosing a gift for your grandpa, right?”
“Not exactly.” Arturo grinned.
And just like that, her common sense flew out the window. She snapped her gloves off. “Sure. Just let me go home and change.” She headed to the door but turned around. “Are we shopping in Rios Azules? We’re not driving all the way to Houston, are we?”