by P. J. Day
A cool summer breeze swept the dry, orange tree leaves up from the cracked sidewalk. Mercy stopped and took in the citrusy smell. She smiled and a feeling of redemption tickled her soul as she realized that Grant had come around, and finally recognized her beyond the roles of mother and wife.
Chapter Three
Mercedes sat across from Julia, a stout, middle aged woman, with chubby fingers and short, black hair. They both sipped coffee. Mercy handed Javier’s wife another tissue.
“No, I haven’t seen him, I haven’t heard from him. Oh, Dios Mio, Mercy, where has he gone?” The woman cried openly. “And just when he was starting to make some good money, too! What am I going to do?”
Mercy put a warm and friendly hand on Julia’s. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
“Por favor, Dios! Hazlo!” Julia said, wiping her nose. Please, God, make it happen.
“You said he was just starting to make more money? Did he get a raise?” Mercy asked, doubt pursing her lips. Grant rarely gave raises.
“No, no,” Julia answered. “I love you, my dear, and I love your ex. But he wouldn’t give my Javier a raise.” Julia wiped her tears again.
“Wait, did he get another job?”
Julia nodded, wiping another tear from her eye.
“Have you encountered some debt?”
“No, it was our oldest son, David,” Julia smiled, thinking fondly on her son. “He did so well in school. You know he graduated with honors?” Julia’s eyes gleamed pride through her tears.
“Yes, I know you’re very proud of him. Congratulations.” Mercy smiled.
“Yes, of course, thank you. Well, he got a scholarship from UCLA. But it was only partial. But, Mercy, he wanted to go so bad! My Javier wanted so desperately to help him have a better life. So he got a night job to help with the tuition.”
“Really?”
“Please don’t tell el Jeffe about it. He doesn’t know,” Julia begged.
“Of course not,” Mercy answered. El Jeffe. Mercy chuckled inwardly at Julia’s name for Grant, Javier’s boss. “But where did he find work?”
“At a printing shop.” Julie’s eyes narrowed a bit. “He wouldn’t tell me where it was. I didn’t like that. But when he came home with cash every night, and David was able to pay his tuition and bought his books...oh, I know my husband is a good man. He loves David as much as I do. So I didn’t ask any questions.”
“Hmm,” Mercy said to herself, tapping her long, black-painted nails on the table.
“Mercy, he’s alright, que no? I mean, what do you think?”
Mercedes gave Julia an assuring smile, as she didn’t feel Javier’s spiritual presence in the home. If she did, then he was more than likely dead and, eventually, she’d have to be the bearer of bad news. “I’m sure he is, Julia. And I’m going to find him for you. Don’t you worry.”
Julia’s eyes brimmed again. “Thank you. You’re an angel. An angel, that’s what you are.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Mercy laughed. “But I’ll do whatever I can. Do you mind if I ask...”
“Anything!”
“I could use something of your husband’s,” Mercy said, choosing her words carefully. “Something...a comb with his hair, a shirt he wore, did he have any lucky charms or anything?”
Julia’s eyebrows went up, curious.
“Just for the police, you know. Just for any clue. Whatever you have that you think is his and his alone.”
Julia thought a moment and then jumped up. “I know just the thing!” She dashed into her bedroom. When she returned, she handed Mercy a shirt. “He wore this to the other job,” Julia said. Mercy sniffed it; it did smell like something from a print shop...ink maybe? But not quite....
Then Julia dropped something else into Mercy’s palm; a small, silver medallion of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
“He used to wear it all the time around his neck,” Julia explained. “He took it off just recently. I don’t know why.”
Mercy closed her hand around the tiny charm. This was something she could feel his presence in. Why had he taken it off? “This will be fine,” she told Julia. Mercy had no intention of showing the medallion to the police, but Julia didn’t need to know that. She downed her cup of coffee yet again, and stood. This was beginning to do a number on her G.I. tract. “Excuse me,” Mercy said, softly bumping her chest as she hid a burp. “I’ve got to get going.” She hugged Julia tightly, like a sister.
“Thank you, Mercy,” Julia said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’ve got your number,” Mercy said. “You’ve got mine?” Julia nodded. “You call me if there is anything you can think of, or if you hear from Javier.”
Julia held Mercy’s hand tightly as she showed her to the front door of their small home. “Of course. I will pray for you, Mercedes, just as I pray for my husband.”
Mercy’s Magic
is available at:
Amazon Kindle
Kindle UK
Paperback
Audio
About the Author
P.J. lives with his wife an two daughters in southern California, which serves as the backdrop for his inspiration and indignation. Find him below:
www.pjdaybooks.com
Facebook
Twitter
Return to the Table of Contents