by Leah Atwood
“We’ll go to McAllen. It’s only half an hour away, and they have a mall there. I’ll pick you up in an hour. That should give you enough time to change.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “How long do you think it takes me to change?”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up in two hours?” He lifted his hands in surrender.
“Ha! Give me ten minutes for the road and ten minutes to change.” She grimaced. “Well, and five minutes to trim my hair to get the stain out.”
“That must be a record. Would you mind if we took my grandfather with us? He might complain about it, but I think it would do him good to get out of the house.”
So this wasn’t to choose a present for his grandfather. Huh. “Sure. I’d like that.”
She hurried home. Once there, while changing, she put her phone on speakerphone and called Mari.
“Hi, girl.” Mari sounded cheerful. “I think I know why you’re calling. Everything is going as decided. Lydia is on board. We’re zeroing in on the time frame for Operation Grandpa to begin.”
“Thank you. You’re awesome.”
“I know.” Mari disconnected.
Lana prayed for her idea to work.
What exactly was Arturo going to shop for? Any why had he suggested that right after she’d mentioned they’d needed help with the Christmas gift drive?
Chapter Eight
For the first time in her life, Lana truly enjoyed shopping, in spite of the crowds and the fact that fans were constantly stopping Arturo and asking for autographs. Like right now.
She walked around a huge Christmas tree with sparkling ornaments and slipped inside the bookstore. Arturo’s grandpa headed to the detective/mysteries section.
Lana found beautiful Bibles and stacked five of them on the counter to return to later. She leafed through colorful books, the glossy pages smooth under her fingertips. She smiled. Arturo saying he’d buy gifts for the Christmas drives had been such a wonderful surprise.
Melodic Christmas songs were literally music to her ears. She heard a squeal. Then a couple of kids barreled inches away on their way to a gingerbread house on the table in the corner. A woman, who had more shopping bags on her than a tree had ornaments, thumped after them.
It felt good to stand on her own two feet again and spend money the way Lana wanted after years of being dependent on Michael. Though he’d been the one to insist she stop working as a nurse, he’d demanded a detailed account of all the funds he’d given her. He’d considered diamonds and designer dresses a necessity, but buying herself something to eat had been a luxury. How could she be blind to that for years?
No need to dwell on that now. She was going to be joyful this season.
Lana put several books aside and leafed through another one, her thoughts drifting off again.
Arturo wasn’t like Michael at all when it came to shopping for gifts. He’d spent with abandonment, only pausing to ask for her or his grandfather’s opinions. Thankfully, most shops in the mall had a delivery program. Otherwise, they’d need a trailer to transport everything Arturo had bought. As it was, with the stores that didn’t deliver, Arturo had piled up boxes inside the truck, barely leaving enough space for himself, her, and his grandpa. He’d filled most of the bed, too, securing the boxes and bags under a tarp.
Her phone announced an incoming call. She glanced at the screen. Mari.
Lana sighed as she pressed the answer button. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. The shopping spree took longer than I thought.” She lowered her voice to a whisper to make sure the older De La Vega didn’t hear her. “And I didn’t have much chance to talk to Arturo about Operation Grandpa.”
“Lydia told me Evelyn would arrive at the pastry store at 1900 hours sharp. Lydia promised to hold her up, but hurry.”
Lana smiled at her friend’s use of military time. “I’ll do my best.”
“You always do.” Mari disconnected.
Setting aside several more books, Lana glanced at the exit. Arturo was nowhere in sight. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to go shopping. But how could she refuse his generosity toward the projects she cared so much about?
The cover of the book she was holding reminded her of the time she’d lived with the Smiths. In the picture, a woman was sitting near a Christmas tree and a fireplace, leaning over a book. The woman was surrounded by three children of different ages, who seemed to listen to her attentively, with her husband looking over. She resembled Clara Smith. A longing grabbed Lana’s heart in a tight fist.
Home.
Family.
Forever.
For a moment, the image of a different man and a woman appeared. Arturo and herself.
Lana shook her head. What a crazy thought.
The whir of an automatic wheelchair made her turn around. She smiled warmly as Grandfather De La Vega made his way to her, his basket filled with books.
“You know, it was very difficult for me to let my grandson go,” he said.
“I can imagine.”
“Especially to give him to a game where injuries happen often. Also, considering my son’s… issues, and the possibility for it being hereditary. I prayed about it a lot. I surrendered my will to God. And let Artie go I did.”
A smile tugged at her lips at the childhood version of Arturo’s name. “You did the right thing. Just look at him now.”
“Yes,” he echoed. “Look at him now.”
“The letting go part is difficult for me, too. Once I started getting attached to my foster parents or foster siblings, something happened, and I’d be shipped off to a new family.” She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. “Even the Smiths gave up on me. Finally, I became cold and hostile to each new set of foster parents. I learned that getting attached equaled getting hurt.” A lesson she should remember now with Arturo.
“I’m sorry, Lana.” Grandfather De La Vega’s eyes softened.
Her feet tired, she leaned against the bookshelves. “Not your fault. I never learned it well enough, though. My job is to nurture my patients back to health. I love it. But it’s difficult to walk away from them once they get better.” And that included Grandfather De La Vega.
He blinked, but surely there couldn’t be a tear in his eye? “You’re like a granddaughter to me, Lana. You know that, right? No matter what happens, the doors of my house are open to you. Remember that. No matter what.”
Tears stung her own eyes. “Thank you.” For several moments, there was silence, until she said, “I found a bird with a broken wing in the backyard when I was nine. I brought it inside, and my foster parents, the Smiths, let me keep it. I helped the bird heal, fed it, talked to it. And then one day it left. I cried a lot at first…”
“But you had to let it fly.” There was so much understanding in the older man’s eyes.
“Yes.” And Arturo didn’t even have a broken wing.
“Would you do it again?”
“Of course.” She sighed. “It won’t be easier this time around, will it?”
He lifted his hand, as if to reach out to her. But then he let his gnarled fingers drop in his lap. “No.”
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Arturo’s voice made her heart beat faster. He approached her in several long strides, balancing a large stack of boxes in his hands. “I should’ve known you’d go to the bookstore.”
“I believe she mostly chose books for the children’s toy drive. I got some novels for the veterans,” his grandfather said.
“I also picked up several Bibles,” Lana said.
“Let me help you.” Arturo put down the stack of boxes and carried the books to the counter. Sure enough, he insisted on paying for all of them.
Minutes later, they dropped boxes and bags at Lady Grace’s guesthouse, the unofficial headquarters for the drives. From Grandfather De La Vega, Lana knew Lady Grace was a widow in her early eighties and a close family member who’d known Eleanor since the time they’d been little girls. Lady Grace owned a large orange o
rchard and a spacious house. Retired after a long career in nursing, she dedicated her time to church, charities, her grandchildren, and her friends. Lana was honored to consider herself one of the latter.
Lady Grace directed them where to put the gifts. Her sweater with the Rudolph reindeer print and matching slippers with red pompons for Rudolph’s nose were a far cry from her usual outfits. Usually, those consisted of elegant suits with hats, shoes, and clutches of the exact hue as the suit. Only Evelyn Velasquez gave her some competition in that regard.
Lana sent Lady Grace a questioning look. The latter gave a barely distinguishable nod, to which Lana replied with a nod of her own. Good. Lady Grace was on board, too.
Lana’s joy was diminished somewhat by the fact that she still hadn’t had a chance to talk about the details to Arturo.
They got on the road back to Rios Azules. While driving, Arturo explained the basic rules of football to her and described his favorite games with such enthusiasm that she resolved to watch the game on Sunday.
Grandfather De La Vega recalled episodes in little Artie’s life, like when his grandson had scored his first touchdown and declared he’d “be famous someday and buy Grandpa lots and lots of things.” Or when he’d been saving a kitten from a large, furious dog, got bitten by that dog, and had to endure many rabies shots later for his trouble. A warm feeling entered Lana’s heart as she listened to the stories.
Once they were back in Rios Azules, Lana was about to suggest stopping at Evelyn’s Pastries when Arturo exclaimed, “There’s the sporting goods store! Let’s get some footballs. I’ll autograph them and have the rest of the team sign them, too. Unless you’re too tired?”
“I’m good. And… Um, sure.” When he put it that way, how could she say no? She checked the time on the dashboard. Seven o’clock. Hopefully, they could still make it to the pastry shop in time, before Evelyn left.
Inside the store, Lana stepped aside to let Arturo choose the footballs. It was his specialty, after all. She followed Grandfather De La Vega to the department where they had fishing rods.
“Rios Azules holds fishing tournaments from time to time,” he said to no one in particular.
Maybe she should try fishing, too. It could calm her emotions that had been running wild lately.
“Lana, would you come over here please?” Arturo’s voice reached her from the counter.
“Sure. Grandfather De La Vega, are you going to be okay?”
“What do you think could happen to me? I’ll poke my eye with a rod?” he grumbled.
“Right. I mean, I don’t think you would. I mean, I’ll shut up now.” She hurried to the counter before she embarrassed herself any further.
“I want you to try it. I want you to hold this, close your eyes, and imagine you’re running down the field while fans are screaming.” Arturo handed her the football.
He showed her how to wrap her fingers around it.
She did so. “O-okay.” She closed her eyes. Nothing. She’d never been able to run fast, and she’d probably stumble soon and fall to the ground.
She opened her eyes and returned the football. “Sorry. It’s not working for me.”
“I want you to come to my game. Will you?”
Her jaw slackened. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I just…” He looked into her eyes. “I want to show you the world I live in. Pro football player isn’t just my profession. It’s who I am. I’d also like to spend more time with you.”
Her eyes widened, and her heart raced. “I… I’d like to see you again, too. But how is this going to work?”
“We’ll never know unless we try. All I’m asking is one visit.” He stepped to her. “Lana, can you at least promise me you’ll think about it?”
Several teenagers entered the small store and immediately surrounded Arturo, asking for his autograph. Spared from answering his question, Lana retreated to Grandfather De La Vega and the fishing rods.
After the teenagers left, Arturo loaded the footballs into the bed of the truck, somehow finding space.
Once they delivered footballs to a surprised Lady Grace, Lana couldn’t wait any longer. “Why don’t we stop at Evelyn’s Pastries for some eggnog and peach cobbler?” Her stomach chose that time to complain loudly that it was way past time for dinner and she hadn’t had lunch.
“How about dinner? My treat,” Arturo said. “I’m sure you’re hungry, and I feel I could eat an elephant right now. What about you, Grandpa?”
“I don’t know about an elephant, but dinner at The Café sounds great.”
Lana sent a text to Mari while Arturo’s grandfather gave him directions to The Café.
Operation Grandpa postponed due to dinner at your restaurant. Sorry.
Her phone beeped with a reply. Don’t worry. Enjoy the food and the company. I’ll pass the info to Lydia. She’ll hold down the fort. They need to do tons of cookie baskets for the gift drives, anyway.
That settled, Lana turned to Arturo. “I can’t let you pay all the time.” She’d learned with Michael that it only led to nagging, reproaches, and friendly reminders that she’d be nothing without him.
“It’s really my pleasure.” He smiled at her.
She couldn’t help it. She smiled back.
“Grandpa, please check your blood sugar before we go inside,” Arturo said when they parked near The Café.
Grandfather De La Vega obliged without grumbling.
Minutes later, they were inside The Café and were seated immediately. Arturo raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a chair for her. “That was fast.”
Pleased at being treated like a lady, Lana sat down. “I have friends… in good places.”
The waitress handed them menus and took orders for the drinks, unsweetened tea for Arturo and his father, and lemonade for her.
Lana breathed in the familiar scents of fried shrimp and fresh biscuits. She’d quickly grown to love this place, and not only because it belonged to her best friend. A huge aquarium in the middle of the restaurant with colorful fish always gave her a feeling of calm. And she had her eye on one of the seascape paintings alongside photos with proud fishermen with the catch of the day that lined the walls. Mari offered space in her restaurant to local artists, transforming it into a small art gallery. The seascape with the sunrise would fit well on Lana’s bare wall in the living room.
Strangely enough, no patrons rushed to their table to ask Arturo for autographs, though there were plenty of curious glances sent their way.
“Mari really turned this place around, didn’t she?” Grandfather De La Vega commented as he set a napkin with a tiny seahorse on his lap.
“Yep. It used to be a rundown shack.” Lana never imagined Mari would become a business owner. With her friend’s character and upbringing, she’d expected her to go into law enforcement. “Now it’s one of the most popular places in Rios Azules. Some say it’s due to the atmosphere. Some say it’s because Mari unearthed an outstanding chef.”
The waitress returned with their drinks.
“Thank you.” Lana took a sip of her lemonade.
“What would you like to order?” The waitress pulled out her pen.
Both Arturo and his grandfather chose lobster.
Most likely, if she made the same choice, she’d send pincers flying across the table. “Shrimp tacos.” Lana closed her menu and handed it to the waitress.
Besides hanging garlands and lights on the wall, Mari had apparently decided to place a tree branch with an ornament on each table. Lana leaned in to breathe in the subtle scent of pine needles, mixing with the tantalizing aromas of the food. Then, there was the Christmas tree…
A boy around the age of five charged toward the tree, with the woman yelling after him, “You can only get one!”
Lana caught Arturo’s surprised glance. “Mari lets children take an ornament home. The ornaments are all edible and made from dough. She got the idea from a tree like it at Evelyn’s Pastries. The tree’s not edible, though. But
some kids did try to bite into it.”
Something flickered in Arturo’s grandpa’s eyes at the mention of Evelyn’s name. Good.
Their food arrived quickly.
“I’ll say grace.” Grandfather De La Vega reached for her hand, his fingers callused.
Lana glanced Arturo’s way and felt a little warmer inside when he also took her hand.
“Dear Lord, please bless this food and make it nutritious to our bodies. Please keep us and our loved ones safe in Your care. Thank You for all Your abundant blessings. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lana said.
They dug into their food.
“How did you fall in love with football?” she asked Arturo while devouring the first shrimp taco.
Arturo looked at his grandfather, love obvious in his eyes. “Every morning after Grandpa brought me from Austin, he’d drag me out of bed to go jogging before anyone else in town woke up. We’d watch the sunrise together while running.”
His grandfather nodded. “Those were good times. I used to do the same with my son, but… He ran track in high school, even won an athletic scholarship to the University of Texas.” His eyes darkened. “But he never went. Too much partying in high school. Nothing I did could change that. I had a similar scholarship, too. But I couldn’t go, either. I had to provide for the family.”
“I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity like that. The problem was, I liked running and I was good at it, but I wasn’t crazy about it.” Arturo paused.
“And then…” She took a bite of a soft, buttery biscuit.
“Grandpa took me to a pro football game in Houston. I’d seen football games on TV, but it wasn’t comparable to that. The smells, the sounds, the tension were overwhelming. When the team came onto the field, they seemed like warriors to me. Fearless. Strong. Fast. They reminded me of the movie Grandpa had taken me to see, about medieval knights. For a moment, I saw shining armor instead of helmets and shoulder pads. A king instead of a coach.”