by Casey Dawes
Maybe he’d give up caffeine tomorrow.
“Gracias, but you don’t owe me anything.” If anything, it was the reverse. He took a sip of the sweet caffeinated drink. “Mmm.” He grinned at her. “How is Luis? Did the fever go away?”
“Yes, he’s much better,” she said.
He took another sip of his drink, at a loss for words. While he was good with small children and mothers, any other interaction with the female gender made his palms sweat. The cup crinkled as he squeezed it, a drip of foam slipping down its side.
“You said your cousin had Asperger’s. Is that how you became interested in childhood behavior?”
His shoulders relaxed as he began the long-winded answer to her question. “I grew up in the Central Valley. My parents were fieldworkers. It was a hard life, but it was happy in its own way. We kids would do all kinds of crazy things when we weren’t working in the fields.”
“How old were you when you started working? What did you pick?”
“I worked in the family garden from the time I could walk. By fourteen I was in the fields. We picked everything—oranges, plums, cotton. The grapes were the worst. Sticky. Wasps. Even black widow spiders.”
“Ooh. Gross.” Her nose crinkled up, and her pink lips became a circle.
“Yeah, it was. Of course, we boys would tease the girls with whatever insect we could find. They’d run away screaming the first few times, but then they’d retaliate. And man, they were worse than any guy could be.” He chuckled. It was an easy laugh, like those he’d shared with his friends when he was small.
“Sounds like a tough start for a doctor,” she said.
“It was.” He nodded. “But I had some wonderful teachers—the kind that see beyond the racial stereotype to the kid who is eager to learn. They helped me believe I was too smart to work in the fields forever. I stayed in school, applied for a scholarship, and made it into the UC Santa Cruz, followed by medical school in Irvine. Then I interned at Dominican in Santa Cruz.” It was the sanitized version of his life, skipping over the deportation of his family, his uncle’s abuse, and his own fight with depression ever since.
“Sounds intense,” she said.
“It was. There were times I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Rotation was brutal. I didn’t know whether it was day or night. No time for anything except eating and sleeping.” He patted his stomach. “I lived on junk food. It’s taken me three years to get the pounds off.”
“But you did it.”
“Sí. I accomplished my dream.”
Some of the sunshine slipped from Alicia’s face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She waved her hand. “There are things I need to do, and they’re taking longer than I want to accomplish.”
“Like what?”
“I was on the track and field team in high school, before ... before I got pregnant. I was going to go for a scholarship to Berkeley. She looked away from him and stared at a corner of the ceiling. “I still want to go to college, but it’s a lot harder trying to do it with a job and Luis.”
His light caress on her hand made her look up at him, but she didn’t pull away.
“That doesn’t mean you have to give up your dreams forever. Didn’t you tell me you were registering for classes at Costanoa College? What courses are you taking?”
“Mainly business. It’s the quickest way to make more money to take care of my son.”
“How long will it take to get a degree?”
She shrugged. “It’s going to take a while. I can only do a few classes at a time. Most daycare facilities won’t take Luis. They manage him for a little while, then hand him back and tell me he doesn’t fit in. My grandmother’s the only one who’s been able to handle him while I work and go to school, but he exhausts her.”
Her plight made his heart ache. “If you didn’t have to worry about daycare for Luis, would you still work in retail?”
Her hesitation told him of her conflict, a battle he could understand. When it came to fighting for an education, he’d had to be selfish, putting himself ahead of family and friends. The trait hadn’t always been appreciated.
“I accidently took a sociology class.” A smile played across her lips.
“Accidently?” He laughed.
“I wanted to do something just for me—something that didn’t involve being practical.” She withdrew her hand and picked up her beverage, her smile dipping at one corner.
His laugh was bolder this time. “Sounds like you need to take more ‘accidental’ classes—things that can help you go to a four-year school if you want. Don’t let the dream die.”
“Some days it seems impossible.”
“If I could do it, so can you.” Judging by her frown, he thought he might be pushing too hard.
“You didn’t have a child to take care of.” Frost edged her tone.
“I’m not saying it’s easy. I know what it’s like to fight prejudice and poverty to get what you want. Many days I had to force myself out of bed to go to class or work because it seemed hopeless. But I did make it, and so can you.” He stared into her eyes and drummed his fingers to emphasize the point. “So. Can. You.” This was a gift he could give her—support in believing she could achieve her goals, in spite of the problem fate had handed her.
Could he give her more than moral support? Would she let him help take care of Luis? It was a big step for this early in their relationship, if they even had a relationship.
She lowered her eyelids and took a sip from her coffee. “Why children?” she asked. “Especially, why kids with behavioral problems?”
Apparently they were done talking about her.
“There were always lots of kids running in and out of my house—relatives, neighbors, foster kids. I got used to babies and little ones pretty early on. They may be difficult, but for the most part they don’t lie to me about what’s wrong. If only people understood how important early-childhood care is to a person’s entire life, they’d ...”
She shifted in her seat.
“Sorry. I ramble about things that make me passionate.” He shrugged and splayed his hands.
“I can see that.” Her face shined with approval. “But I’m happy to listen. I like learning about what drives people.”
Once again, he looked into her brown eyes, seeing honesty and a touch of wariness. His gaze expanded to take in her features, full lips, smooth skin, and abundant dark hair. Her figure was trim without the extra fleshiness he often saw in teen mothers who hadn’t bothered to recover from pregnancy in anticipation of the next child.
“You said you did track and field in high school. Do you still run?”
“When I can—there’s not much time these days.”
“I jog a few times a week. Maybe some Saturday you could join me?”
“That would be nice. I’ve got one of those jogging strollers I found in a secondhand sports store, so I don’t have to find someone to watch Luis.”
“Good.” Another opportunity to get to know her and observe Luis.
He glanced at his watch. Damn. “I have to leave soon. Can I see you again next week? Maybe we could jog together this weekend?”
The half smile returned. “I’ll meet with you next week, but I have to work on Saturday. Some other time?”
He nodded and left the café with a lighter step than when he’d entered.
• • •
Leaving Luis buckled in his car seat for a moment, Alicia took the pink-boxed chocolate mousse cake she’d picked up from Gayle’s Bakery to Elizabeth’s front door and rang the bell.
“Hi, Alicia! Come in, everyone else is here,” Elizabeth said.
“I need to get Luis.” She held out the box.
“Of course. Do you need help with anything else?”
Alicia shook her head.
“Before we go in,” Elizabeth said, “I wanted to talk with you about something.”
“Okay.” A chill washed over her skin.
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br /> “Nothing bad!” Elizabeth smiled. “Sarah said she gave you the coach’s card. I know it can be expensive, but it’s really worth it. I’d like to offer to pay for one session a month, part of your employee benefits.”
“I can’t accept that. You do so much for me already.”
“Yes, you can. That’s what family is for—to help each other when times are tough. You’re family. Even if it is a little strange, it works for me.”
“But …”
“I want you to be successful. That way, when Marcos and I are old and decrepit, you can help Sarah take care of us.”
“I don’t think a coach can help me. I mean, what do they know about Asperger’s?”
“A good coach, like Carol Eos, can make you face your problems head-on. She won’t tell you what you want to hear, she’ll tell you what you need to hear.”
The prospect didn’t sound inviting, but if it would help her move forward with her goals …
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Good.”
“Mom!” Sarah yelled from the kitchen. “Something’s burning!”
“Oh, dear.” A frown line crossed Elizabeth’s perfect forehead, causing Alicia to smile. Her boss was rarely flustered.
Even though she wasn’t sure he understood her, Alicia crouched next to Luis and explained what was going to happen. It was a technique the book had mentioned for older children, but she was desperate to try anything that might improve her life.
She touched his cheek to get his attention.
His deep brown eyes stared at her.
“First, I’m going to unbuckle you.” She touched the buckle. “Then, I’m going to move the straps off your arms.” She touched the straps and his arms. “Then I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go inside.” She pointed to the open door of Elizabeth’s house.
She repeated her words as she did the actions. While Luis initially flinched when she picked him up, he didn’t go stiff or start wailing.
Progress.
As soon as they walked through the doorway, though, he tensed and drew in a lungful of air.
“We’re in Elizabeth’s house now. We’re going into the kitchen, and I’m going to put you in a playpen with Hannah. You like Hannah.” She tried to keep the desperation from her voice.
“There he is!” Annie, Elizabeth’s best friend, exclaimed. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him—Elizabeth’s wedding, I think.” She reached for Luis, but Alicia shook her head. “He doesn’t do well with strangers.”
She waited for the reaction she typically got. What’s wrong with him?
“David was like that,” Annie said. “Must be hard.”
“Sí.” Some of the tension seeped from her shoulders as she put Luis in with Hannah and handed him a toy. Soon he was engrossed in putting shapes into the slots, dumping them out, and repeating the process.
“What’s in the box?” Sarah asked.
“Chocolate mousse cake.”
“Oh, yummy. We’re having a feast tonight, aren’t we, little girl?” she cooed to Hannah.
Her daughter looked up at her and gurgled a smile.
A dart of jealousy pierced Alicia.
“What would you like to drink? Marcos got us a couple of Soquel Vineyards Zinfandels to go with the lasagna,” Elizabeth offered.
“No raviolis?” Alicia asked in mock horror.
“I needed a change.”
“So do I. I need a break from burritos and tacos. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t drink yet, remember? Do you have some iced tea?”
Elizabeth pointed to the pitcher on the counter.
“How are things going with the music business?” Alicia asked Annie.
“I’ve pulled together my first CD.” Annie’s grin wreathed her whole face.
“It’s great.” John, Annie’s husband, came up beside them.
Annie gave him a mock punch in the ribs. “You’re saying that because you’re my husband.”
He shook his head. “I’m saying that because it’s true.” He handed Alicia a disk. “Demo. See for yourself.”
“I will. I’m so excited for you, Annie.” Another dart entered her heart.
“It’s a dream come true.”
Elizabeth’s husband, Marcos, joined them. “Many dreams have come true. We have much to celebrate today!” He held out a bottle of wine. “My first vintage from America.”
The label showed an antique-looking globe. Gamari Vineyards Pinot Noir.
Alicia’s soul deflated. Everyone around her had accomplished so much, while she had only managed to produce a fatherless child with problems.
Sarah grabbed her hand. “C’mon outside with Hunter and me and leave the old folks to the cooking.”
“I am not old!” Elizabeth called from her place by the stove.
“Don’t let their recent accomplishments fool you,” Sarah said. “They’ve had twenty years to stop screwing up and do something.”
“What’s your excuse?” Alicia followed Sarah out to the shaded garden. “You’re a successful innkeeper.”
Sarah cocked her head. “I’m older than you are, Alicia. Time does matter. And I still haven’t completed my degree, much to Mother’s annoyance.”
They grabbed some lounge chairs on the patio. Hunter sat nearby, his legs propped up on a stone bench and a cold beer in his hand. His love for Sarah showed in a half smile on his lips.
All of them had love. If she allowed someone to get close to her, maybe someone like Raúl, would that make a difference in her life?
Chapter 6
Alicia paced up and down the parking lot overlooking the valley. She needed solitude for her first coaching call, and this was one of the few places she knew she could be alone and still get cell reception. Fog covered most of fields, as misty as her direction in life.
“So you are Sarah’s sister. She told me how special you are.” Carol Eos’s voice transmitted kindness over the phone.
“Half sister,” Alicia clarified.
“Funny, she never referred to you like that.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
Sarah had warned her that the life coach often stopped talking to let what she’d said settle in.
Crap. Silence made Alicia squirm inside. “I’m stuck,” she said, the lack of sound driving her to speak.
“Many of us are,” Carol said. “Tell me more.”
“I thought I knew what I wanted from life. Now I don’t.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“I went to school to sign up for business classes. Which I did. But then …” Her steps became more rapid. “Then, like an idiot, I signed up for sociology. Why did I do that? It’s not practical. It’s not what I was supposed to do. Elizabeth took a chance on me. I owe her. I know she wants to travel with Marcos. She’s depending on me to be able to run the business when she’s gone. I can’t let her down.”
“Do you want to run the store? Or is it guilt that’s forcing you into that box?”
“What do you mean?” She stopped walking.
“You said you owed Elizabeth. What do you owe her?”
Another trait Sarah had warned her about. The coach often answered a question with a question.
Alicia hated dredging up the same old story. If only she could have had normal parents.
“You know about my father. He was married to Elizabeth, but also ... well ... he was with my mother. He told her he loved her but couldn’t leave Elizabeth because of Sarah.” The familiar, golf ball-sized mass choked her throat, making it difficult to speak. “He ... uh ...” She started to pace again. “Got my mother pregnant. Then he died.”
He’d left everyone in a tangled mess.
She hated talking about this.
“It must be very difficult for you,” Carol said. “Your parents were living a lie for a very long time. You didn’t have anything to do with their deception, but I can understand its impact on your life.”
She perched on one of the rocks that edged t
he parking lot and stared at the fog-enshrouded shoreline. Far out in the bay, the sun cut through the mist, shining on the roiling water.
The steel hand on her chest loosened.
“Elizabeth told me that your mother asked her to give you a job when you became pregnant, and she did,” Carol continued. “Is that what you mean by owing her?”
“Yes.”
“So ... she’s only kept you on because of obligation. You haven’t provided any value as an employee or a person? You never see her outside of work?”
That was ridiculous. Of course she did.
“I was at Elizabeth’s last Friday night.”
“Ah.”
Silence.
New ideas inched into her head. “Do you think I only want to own a day spa and cosmetic store because of Elizabeth?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“But I wanted to work in one in high school. That’s why my mother went to Elizabeth in the first place.”
“People change, Alicia. What we thought we wanted as young people very often shifts when we experience reality. What do you want right now?”
A longing for something filled her heart, but she couldn’t define it. Her vision was as shrouded as the valley below. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s see if we can do some work to figure it out.”
Alicia remembered the other thing Sarah had warned her about. “You want me to journal.”
Carol laughed. “Word travels fast. Yes, my dear. At least three pages every morning before you get out of bed.”
Alicia tried to come up with a good excuse as to why she couldn’t do the journaling, but she knew there weren’t any.
“One other thing,” the coach said. “You talk about Elizabeth, but not about your own mother. She did a very brave thing by asking for a job for you. Aren’t you close to her?”
“I don’t like my mother.” She stood and started pacing.
“Why not?”
Her feet pounded the blacktop as she tried to find an acceptable answer.
“Are you judging your mother for what she did?”
Back to the other end of the parking lot. Unease pulled at her. Of course she was judging her mother. She’d committed adultery.