Still, what Justine didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She only hoped that Charmaine wouldn’t decide to call her old friend and spill what she knew, thereby creating problems.
WHEN ERICA ARRIVED at the Big House that evening, Hank and Kaylie weren’t there yet, and Justine was beside herself with worry.
“I talked with Tony on the phone,” she said. “It wasn’t reassuring.”
“What did he say?” Erica asked as she bent to greet Murphy, who was wagging himself into a joyous dither over her arrival.
“Not much.”
Erica, recalling the little man’s gift of gab, raised her eyebrows. “I think you’d better go see him.”
“I’ve come to the same conclusion myself. I feel a certain responsibility to Tony. He’s been like a fond uncle to me.” Justine glanced out the window. “Oh, here’s Hank with Kaylie.”
Hank came in, all smiles. Erica felt suddenly shy around him, but Kaylie reached for her and she willingly gathered the baby into her arms. She began to jounce her semiexpertly, taking heart that Kaylie seemed to like it.
Hank’s smile faded when he saw Justine’s face. “What’s the matter? Is Pavel the cantankerous chef acting up again?”
Justine shook her head. “No, it’s worse than that. Erica, why don’t you fill Hank in on the situation with Tony while I see to the roast? Help yourself to the cheese and crackers on the coffee table.”
After Justine had departed for the kitchen, Hank leaned close to Erica and planted a kiss on her cheek. “What’s the problem with Tony?” he asked. “And don’t act so scandalized. Surely you don’t mind if I steal one little kiss when I’m going to be ravishing you in the oasis hot pool in—” he consulted his watch “—approximately two hours.”
“Hank!” she hissed, taking Kaylie into the living room and easing down in front of the crackling fire in the fireplace with her in her lap. Murphy pattered in and sat down beside Hank to be scratched behind the ears, a service that Hank performed before slipping him a cracker with cheese on it.
“Well?” he said to Erica. “Are you going to tell me about Tony?”
With the glow of the firelight playing across her features, Erica brought Hank up to speed on the situation, and his forehead knotted with concern. “Justine,” he called into the kitchen, “I’ll be glad to go with you if you don’t want to drive all that way alone.”
Justine appeared with two glasses of wine. “You need to be back bright and early for your group class in the morning,” she said.
“I’d feel better if you’d let me tag along. If you got tired, I could drive.”
“No, Hank. In fact, I’m planning to take a small overnight bag in case I have to stay. Thanks, anyway.” Justine shot him a brief smile before she hurried back into the kitchen.
Hank glanced toward the door to the kitchen. Justine wasn’t in sight, but they could hear her clattering around with pots and pans at the stove. “Justine never wants to be a bother to anyone, always wants to be in control.”
“She’s very capable.”
“I know. I wish she’d let other people take some responsibility, that’s all.” He stopped talking when Justine began to carry food into the dining room. “I’ll go help her. Not a word to her about us, at least not yet. Okay?”
“Okay.” She smiled at him, a co-conspirator.
Hank and Justine were still transferring food from kitchen to table when Erica realized that Kaylie was sitting soggy in her diaper.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “Someone needs a diaper change.”
“I’ll do it,” Hank said immediately. “As soon as I carve the roast.”
“Let me,” Erica said. “Tell me where.”
“In the guest room with the crib. You’ll find disposable diapers and everything else you’ll need.”
“Come along, Kaylie,” Erica said. “We’ll have you dry in no time.”
“Babababa,” Kaylie said agreeably.
Erica tried to recall if she’d ever changed a diaper before and realized she hadn’t. She’d never baby-sat as a teenager, nor had she taken care of her friends’ children.
She laid Kaylie back on the changing table and un-snapped the crotch of her playsuit. The wet diaper came off easily enough. Erica wasn’t sure if you had to dry the baby’s bottom with a towel or merely sprinkle powder on it. She finally blotted it with a spare cloth diaper that was draped over the edge of the table, and then she sprinkled on baby powder for good measure. Kaylie, while this was going on, was minutely inspecting a see-through rattle with small plastic shapes floating inside it.
“Am I going about this the right way?” Erica whispered to her. Kaylie only grinned. If she knew, she wasn’t telling.
Next Erica unfolded a clean disposable diaper from the box, slid it under the baby and figured out how the tabs worked. In a matter of minutes she was snapping Kaylie’s playsuit up again and picking her up.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it? If you can forgive me for fumbling around a lot.” As Erica kissed the top of her head, Kaylie made a fist and gave her what she could have sworn was a cheerful thumbs-up.
Justine had set up a high chair for Kaylie in the dining room, and the baby contentedly played with her activity box while the adults ate. Dinner was hurried, though the substantial food was as delicious as usual.
“I’m sorry,” Justine apologized. “I’m going to have to run if I’m going to see Tony tonight.”
“I’ll clean up the kitchen,” Erica promised.
Hank slid his chair back. “I’ll help. That is, Justine, if you’re sure you don’t want me to come along.”
“I’m sure.” Justine hurried to the back of her house and returned carrying her overnight bag. “Oh, Hank, there’s something you could do for me—look after Murphy. He’ll need to go out tonight and then tomorrow morning.”
“No problem.”
“And don’t forget the banana-split cake in the refrigerator.”
After Justine left, Erica got up and started to clear the table. Hank walked Kaylie to the kitchen window to watch the taillights of Justine’s SUV disappearing down the winding driveway.
“You seem worried,” Erica said.
“I wish Justine wouldn’t drive all the way to the Las Vegas hospital alone. If she didn’t want me to go, she could have asked a friend to go along. Justine never listens to anyone. You’d think after what happened to Anne-Marie, she’d be more careful.”
“Wasn’t there a bad storm that night? Isn’t that what caused the accident?”
Hank took his time about answering.
“There was a bad storm that night,” he said, “but I’m not convinced that’s why Anne-Marie hit that boulder.”
Something about the way he said it caused Erica to stop rinsing dishes and turn off the water. “What do you mean?” The words hung in the air, and for the first time she noticed the tension in the fine lines around his eyes.
“I’ve never talked about Anne-Marie’s accident,” he said. “I’ve never wanted to speak of it before this.”
She dried her hands on a towel. “We can sit down and talk for a while if you’d like.”
“I’ll put Kaylie to bed first.”
When Hank came back, Erica had already dished up plates of the banana-split cake and was sitting on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Hank sat down beside her.
“The night Anne-Marie died, I was on the phone with her. We had a big argument. It was about Kaylie.”
“You were already divorced, right?”
“Yes, and Kaylie was only a few months old. Anne-Marie worked for Justine teaching physical fitness here at the ranch. She and Justine always got along fine, and Justine refused to take sides in the divorce. Justine kept Anne-Marie on the payroll even during the advanced stages of her pregnancy, which was a big help.”
“Wasn’t it hard for you to see Anne-Marie every day around the ranch? When you were going through a divorce and she was going to have the baby?”
&nb
sp; Hank looked momentarily disconcerted. “I didn’t work here then,” he said. “I didn’t come to work at Rancho Encantado until after the accident.”
Erica tried to hide her surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
For a moment Hank looked as if he might want to say something else, but he plunged ahead. “Anyway, that night, the night Anne-Marie died, I got very angry. She told me that she didn’t want me to be part of our daughter’s life. She said that she didn’t need my help financially or any other way. I didn’t like it that she was so independent. I wanted to know my daughter, and I didn’t want her growing up thinking that her father had abandoned her.”
“Of course not,” Erica said. She knew that daughters who felt abandoned by their fathers seemed to have a hard time in relationships with men later in life. Not that this was her problem; her own father had always been there for her right up until the day he died at forty-five, victim of a stroke.
“I’d been reading up on the subject, and that’s one of the arguments I used with Anne-Marie. She became very distressed, said Kaylie didn’t need a father figure, said all the psychologists didn’t know what they were talking about. She grew up without a father, and she turned out fine, she said. I disputed that. I said we might not be divorced if she’d known how to relate to me in a more rational way when we were married.”
“She probably didn’t like that much.”
Hank’s forefinger traced one of the tiles in the countertop. “It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Anne-Marie went berserk. She said that I could keep my opinions to myself. She said that she would get a restraining order to keep me from seeing Kaylie. She was angrier than I’d ever known her to be, and then she slammed down the phone. It was only minutes later that she stormed out and got in her car to go somewhere. I’m sure that Anne-Marie’s mental state contributed to the accident. I’ll always believe it was my fault.”
“What a terrible load of guilt to carry around,” Erica said softly. She reached over and slid her fingers through his. “Maybe it wasn’t your fault. Did you know that Justine blames herself, too?”
He appeared thunderstruck. “No, I didn’t.”
“She says she could have kept Anne-Marie from going that night if she hadn’t agreed to baby-sit.”
“I’m not so sure. My ex-wife’s state of mind was such that if Justine hadn’t taken care of Kaylie, Anne-Marie might have bundled up the baby and hauled her along with her. Anne-Marie was like that. She’d jump in a car and rush off whenever we had an argument. If Kaylie had been with her…my God. I could have lost my daughter.” His face was pale, his eyes haunted.
“You and Justine should talk, Hank. You could comfort each other.”
He looked at her, looked away. His hand gripped hers tightly. “I never knew Justine blamed herself. And I need to thank her, Erica. I need to thank my sister for the fact that I still have Kaylie.”
Padre Luis Speaks…
MY PRAYERS are being answered, thanks be to God.
Erica is made real by her caring for the child and by her love for Hank. Perhaps it will take time for her to realize this is love.
And Hank has grown in wisdom and understanding through sharing his deepest feelings with Erica. She made him see how much he owes his sister. Without Erica, he never would have learned.
Do they see that love is a great teacher? That love smoothes the path of life, whether it be through desert or oasis, cactus or rose petals? Ah, perhaps I should have been a great poet, instead of a poor humble priest.
Now Erica and Hank must find their path together, which will not be easy. And they are still not completely real to each other. This is because neither has revealed the whole truth about themselves.
Perhaps they will. Soon, I hope. I grow weary of their problems and wish to concern myself with others. Those three kittens, for instance. They need a home. Their mother, running around and talking to people in my voice, scarcely pays any attention to them these days.
Dios mio, I must lie down and nap in my bed among the cactus. Perhaps those kittens will come by for a visit. That would be pleasant for a poor humble priest who needs a diversion from the troubles of the world.
Chapter Eleven
Hank took Murphy back to the apartment with him after he said goodbye to Erica at the fork in the path, telling her he’d meet her at the oasis hot pool as soon as he could. Murphy galloped along beside him, tongue hanging out, ears perked.
“It’s good to get out once in a while, isn’t it, boy?”
For an answer, Murphy looked over his shoulder at him, and Hank could have sworn that he grinned in agreement.
“Ba?” Kaylie said, her sleepy head resting on his shoulder.
“Doggie, Kaylie. Can you say doggie?”
Kaylie’s eyelids drooped as she made an agreeable sound low in her throat.
Paloma’s small sedan was parked in the gravel parking area beside the stable. She was thumbing through a magazine when he walked into the apartment with Murphy at his heels.
“Hello, Hank. Let me take Kaylie. Hi, little one, how are you?” Murphy sniffed at her feet, waited for her to pet him, then continued on his self-appointed mission to smell every object in the apartment.
“She’s been better than last night. Did she act like her gums hurt today when you were with her?”
Paloma shook her head. “Not at all. It comes and goes, this teething, I know from taking care of my little nephew. Oh, Hank, I made brownies today. They’re on top of the microwave if you want some.”
“Nope, I had a big dinner and I’ve got a hot date.”
Paloma’s eyebrows rose into her hairline. “You have a date? Who is the lucky person?”
“Me,” he said, thinking of Erica and how her eyes shone when she looked at him.
“Ah, I see. You are in love. I can tell. It was that way with Miguel and me. We met and pow! Instant attraction. Then love. Now, we will soon have enough money for our wedding. We should make it a double wedding, perhaps? With you and your lady friend?”
“You’re way ahead of me, Paloma. There’s no wedding in the works, okay? And while you get Kaylie ready for bed, I’ll take Murphy out for a walk.”
“Okay, Hank. Hurry back before Kaylie falls asleep. It looks like it won’t be long.”
Hank let himself out of the apartment. Murphy seemed overjoyed at this chance to explore the stable and environs. He ran from stall to stall, greeting the horses before prancing back to Hank. Then he caught sight of the cats.
Mrs. Gray and her kittens were perched on top of a stack of boxes higher than Hank’s head. The three kittens merely spat and hissed, but Mrs. Gray, after a deprecatory appraisal of Murphy, stretched lazily and hopped down the series of boxes until she landed right in front of the dog. Murphy began to bark, and Mrs. Gray arched her back and hissed. Hank wished he had put Murphy on a leash, but it was too late now. Mrs. Gray, with what Hank swore was a derisive snort of laughter, took off like a streak of lightning out of the barn and across the corral. Murphy followed in hot pursuit.
“Great,” Hank said to Sebastian, who was nosing over the top of his stall door and looking on with interest. Hank glanced at his watch. It was almost nine-thirty, his appointed time to meet Erica.
He suspected that the cat had planned this all along. Sighing, he headed out of the stable, calling and whistling to Murphy in hopes that he’d come back. Sooner rather than later.
THE PALM GROVE was quiet, the way through the trees lit by low lights that cast golden circles on the path. An occasional breeze rustled the palm fronds, and Erica clutched her blue waffle-knit Rancho Encantado robe around her as protection against the chilly night air.
She made her way to the oasis hot pool, its rock-lined depths shadowed in the silvery moonlight. The pool was shaped like a figure eight, the hot water bubbling up naturally from the ground. There was no sign of Hank. She slipped out of the robe and stepped from the edge of the pool onto the underwater ledge that served as a seat.
“Hello, Lizette,” Erica said, feeling her face freeze in a wary expression.
Lizette lounged at the far side of the pool, her breasts bobbing with the bubbles. She saw Erica glance at the sign that stated that guests were to remain clothed at all times, and she laughed again. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
Erica eased down into the water, trying to decide if she should leave. However, if she did, that would mean that Hank would show up for their rendezvous and find only Lizette. Allowing that to happen would be stupid.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Erica said, trying to sound as if Lizette’s presence was of no importance to her.
“I didn’t. But it may be a good time for a woman-to-woman talk, right?”
“I doubt that we need to talk at all, Lizette.” Erica bit the words off sharply.
“You have a crush on him, don’t you?”
“A crush?” The words didn’t begin to describe her feelings for Hank.
“A crush. As in head over heels. As in can’t see the forest for the trees.”
“Lizette, I don’t want to discuss this with you. Hank and I—”
“Oh, stop calling him Hank. His name is Henry. I’ve had it up to here with this Hank business.” Lizette looked even more petulant than she sounded.
“I’ll call him whatever I like. It’s no concern of yours.”
“Isn’t it? When we’ve been discussing moving in together?”
This stunned Erica so much that at first she couldn’t speak. But why should she believe anything Lizette said? She didn’t seem like Hank’s type, not to mention Hank had assured her that Lizette was history.
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