Avra's God

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Avra's God Page 15

by Ann Lee Miller


  “I can’t take it anymore.” Tía’s tears spilled over. “I mean it.”

  He pulled her into his arms, glad for a reason to touch her.

  “I don’t like sleeping like a sardine in a room with the Malcomb’s toddlers.”

  Her tears seeped through his shirt to his chest. “I thought you loved kids, wanted to teach.”

  Tía sobbed harder.

  “Come on, I’ll take you job hunting again.” He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. Her lashes clumped together around dark eyes filled with childlike trust. He rode the waves of her emotion like a water skier, blissfully waving with one hand.

  She lifted her lips for his kiss and Jesse drank thirstily. She was translucent liquid, searing and cold as a mountain stream. Tiny bubbles of euphoria exploded in his head.

  Kallie stared transfixed at the scene playing out before her—as if she watched a murder. Her own. She felt the blood drain from her face. Her breath stopped in her chest, and she had to force herself to breathe.

  Under the bridge, Jesse’s arms twined around a girl with white skin and lush curls pooling down her back into a straw hat that had slipped from her head. The girl’s filmy floral skirt ruffled against Jesse’s legs in the hot, sticky breeze as he kissed her.

  They were a Hallmark card come to life, and she’d never seen anything more macabre.

  Cisco threaded through the crowd, his fingers laced with Isabel’s. Late afternoon sun baked through his black T-shirt. Cars, food stands, portable toilets littered the park and spilled out along the river. Hundreds of people milled around them in anticipation of the Fourth of July fireworks.

  “Marriela!” Isabel waved at her friend. “Cisco, I’ll meet you in front of the police station for the fireworks. I’m going to chill with the girls.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  Someone jammed a shoulder into his chest. He looked up into Kurt’s glare. Beside him, Drew appeared almost as hostile. Kurt grunted in disgust and pushed through the crowd.

  His gut twisted like the uncapping of a bottle. And his bottle was empty. Kurt and Drew, almost like brothers to him, had vacated. Wind whistled through the void where Avra had been. And beyond Avra, a deeper chasm yawned.

  Kallie stood as still as a mannequin in Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum watching Jesse kiss the Hallmark girl. After an agonizing eternity, their lips separated. Jesse still cradled the girl in his arms, oblivious to the Fourth of July crowds milling nearby. The girl returned his gaze, her chin tilted up.

  Jesse and the girl saw her at the same time. Finally, his hold on her loosened. Jesse waved and grinned at Kallie. “Come on over, Kal, I have someone for you to meet.”

  Those were the first words Jesse had uttered to her since the afternoon they fought in her attic. The warmth in his voice drew her, while the horror of what she’d just witnessed repelled.

  He turned to the girl. “Tía, this is Kallie, my music critic.”

  Did Kallie only imagine the smug glint in his eye?

  He cast a sickly sweet look at Tía. “Kallie, this is my Tía.”

  Ugh! “Hi, Tía,” Kallie said in what she hoped was a normal voice—not one that sounded as if she was afraid one of her limbs had been severed. “Nice to meet you.” She summoned every ounce of acting ability in her body and gave Jesse an I’m-so-happy-for-you smile.

  They chatted inanely another five minutes while the bile of regret bubbled in her chest. She stumbled away to look for Avra.

  Cisco watched Jesse focus on a pretty girl in a dress and hat as she strolled toward the lemonade cart. Cisco shook his head and smiled. “Got it bad, huh, Bro?”

  Jesse jerked his gaze from the girl, surprise on his face. “Done sulking?”

  “Takin’ a breather. You goin’ out?”

  “I could marry Tía.”

  “Whoa. Didn’t see that coming.”

  Jesse shrugged. “Feels good to be needed—”

  “Needy women. Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

  “Isabel’s needy?”

  “Like giving blood till your veins collapse.”

  Jesse’s brow wrinkled. “So, why are you still going out with her?”

  “Guilt. I don’t know. It’s like I zoned out for two months. Hello? Nobody’s home. You know what I mean?”

  Jesse stretched his lips into a straight line. “I noticed.”

  “So, I came to, missed Avra, saw what a jerk I am. Then I wound up in a counselor’s office—” He held up his hand. “Don’t even ask. I found out I’ve been self-medicating over my folks’ split-up.”

  Jesse’s brows rose but he didn’t comment.

  “I should quit self-medicating?”

  “There’s an option.”

  “What do I do with Isabel?”

  “Tell her the truth.”

  Cisco gave a dry laugh. “And to think I followed you around like a puppy when we were kids.”

  “Pit bull.”

  “Can’t tell her. Chica has the Cuban temper. Not pretty.”

  “Break up with her. You don’t love her.”

  “I owe her. My life is crap.”

  Jesse’s attention strayed and Cisco followed his gaze. The sun shone through the fabric of the girl’s skirt as she floated toward them in the stream of people.

  He’d made nice enough for one day without meeting Jesse’s girl. “Later, man.”

  Jesse’s chin swiveled back in Cisco’s direction.

  “A lemonade with two straws. Your scene, not mine.”

  Cisco strode toward the water. He stopped at the edge of the crowd and scanned the shore. A hot wind kicked up tiny whitecaps. Sparse trees bent and swayed. Shells caught the sunlight along the bank like cubic zirconium from the shopping channel.

  Avra. His heart thudded in his chest. She waded alone in the gentle wavelets, her sandals dangling from a finger. Sun glinted off her hair. Seeing her for the first time in months knocked him back like a punch, sharper even than Kurt’s shoulder shoved into his chest. His breath heaved in and out.

  Small swells lapped against her legs. Avra bent to pick up a shell, then tossed it back.

  As if caught in the undertow, he moved toward her.

  Chapter 20

  Kallie wandered across the bridge scribbling a letter to God in her head. She should look for Avra, but she needed some time alone to regroup.

  Dear God,

  I didn’t think Jesse would be ready to love someone for years. How could I have been so wrong? I thought Jesse would always be there waiting for me to gather my courage like an armful of roses. God, it hurts like a glassblower’s torch sliced me in half. Fat lot of good protecting myself did. Avra says You comfort her. How do I get a hold of that?

  Someone Who Needs You

  An alpaca-soft blanket of peace draped over her shoulders. Weird. Nothing had changed. Jesse and Tía held hands beside the cotton candy cart. Tía twirled her hat by its strings. The girl seemed like a lost waif somehow. Fragile. A desire to take care of Tía welled up in her.

  Bizarre.

  Cisco stopped a few feet from where Avra stood in the surf. She hadn’t seen him. “Hi.”

  Avra’s head jolted up. Her face blanched.

  He shifted uncomfortably. “You did something to your hair.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Looks nice.” His voice was tentative. Then he noticed the painted fingernails, toenails, muted under the clear water. Her modest khaki shorts and soft white blouse highlighted her femininity. Gone was the soccer tomboy. “Talk to me.”

  “Why?”

  “I miss the talks we had.” He realized this truth as he spoke.

  “What? Isabel doesn’t talk? Never mind, I already know what she’s good at.” She turned her back on him. Beyond her a sea gull dipped into the water.

  He touched her shoulder. “Avra.”

  “Don’t touch me!” She whirled around. “You don’t have a clue how you hurt me.” Steel edged her voice.

  “Come on, Avra, don’t be like
this. We can be friends.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Avra bit off each word, her fists balled at her sides. “You are the only guy I ever loved. I gave you my whole heart. I was even tempted to give you my body.” A fat tear trickled down her cheek.

  He reached out and wiped it away with his knuckle.

  “Don’t.” She pushed his hand away. “You were my best friend.”

  You were my best friend too.

  “Now ... now there’s nothing left.”

  “Not even a second chance?” The whispered words escaped before he realized he’d spoken them. But instantly, he knew with every molecule in his being he wanted Avra.

  “I ... can’t.” The words seemed wrung from some place deep in her.

  The ring of finality in her voice knifed him. “You hate me, don’t you?”

  “I want you to hurt as badly as you hurt me. But hating you would be a relief. I wish I could.”

  He held her eyes. Seconds ticked by. As if a protective film had been peeled back, he saw passion in Avra he’d never seen. Maybe for the first time, he realized what he’d lost. His chin dropped to his chest. He turned and walked away, her anger pummeling his back.

  He’d always thought Avra was tough. She had God, her family. But he had been wrong. She was vulnerable, and he’d done this to her.

  Avra watched Cisco melt into the crowd. She hugged her arms to her waist and faced the mouth of the river to hide her tears. God had given her the courage to speak the conversation that had spiraled in her head for months. She’d needed to speak those words out loud and for Cisco to hear her, really hear her. Thank you, God. Let me find healing in Your arms.

  After his encounter with Avra, a divine hand yanked the blindfold from his eyes. He had never stopped loving Avra. As he made his way through the crowd, he knew he had to break things off with Isabel. Tonight, before he lost his nerve.

  At the base of the bridge, Isabel stood talking with her friends. Short shorts and a tight midriff showed off her perfect body. He felt the familiar physical pull toward her, like a bungee cord connecting them. Why did I ever go there? He wished there were no mixed feelings about ending things. Before God, he knew it was the right thing to do—whether Avra ever spoke to him again or not. Guilt had trailed him from that first night at the kegger. It stuck fast to him as tightly as Isabel did.

  Even if he was ignoring God, God obviously wasn’t leaving him alone. Avra, her family, and her church had awoken him to God. Sin wasn’t as fun as it used to be.

  Seeing Avra pushed him to do right—as she always did. Something about being in the presence of purity was like hanging with God. She made him want to walk tall.

  The fireworks in the sky had exploded, the ones with Isabel yet to come. The moon bathed them in half light. Cisco led Isabel by the hand to the stretch of shore where he’d spoken with Avra. The memory lingered, giving him strength.

  In the distance, the crowd filtered into cars, doors slammed. Kids further down the river laughed and shouted on their way home.

  He sucked in a breath and turned to face Isabel. Moonlight spilled across the swell of her breasts where she’d freed the top buttons of her blouse.

  Cisco looked away. “We gotta talk.”

  Isabel stepped close to him and held a finger to his lips. Her breath warmed his neck. Her musk scent circled around him, drawing him toward her.

  Lust and doing right wrestled inside him.

  Isabel stood on her toes and pressed soft lips against his. Her hands slid under his T-shirt as she pressed in against him.

  A flash fire moved through his body. He drew a ragged breath and stepped back. His T-shirt settled into place. “This is wrong.” His voice was soft, willing her to agree.

  “It feels right.” Isabel melted against him, her lips seeking his.

  He turned his head and her kiss landed on his cheek.

  Her eyes sparked with anger. “You didn’t think it was so wrong for the last two months.”

  Unable to look at her, he focused on the tiny waves lapping the shore. “I gotta end this, chiquita.” He gentled his voice and faced her. “I’m sorry.”

  Shock registered in her eyes. “Why? Is it that gringa? Is it because I told you about my stepfather? You haven’t touched me since—”

  He hung his head. “I don’t love you.” He looked up at her. “I wish I could love you. You deserve to be loved.” He expected anger, hoped for it. Her anger might hold off his guilt.

  But, she buried her head in her hands. Tears ran between her fingers.

  He was a total jerk. He touched her back with his fingertips, almost afraid to do more. “Don’t cry.”

  She ignored him, breaking into sobs. “Please no ... no, please.” She crumpled on the beach. Cisco squatted beside her, his guilt pressing him down.

  He stroked her hair.

  She quieted and looked up at him. Moonlight bounced off her tears. “Please, mí corazón.” Her wet eyes pled with him. Rumpled hair flowed over one shoulder; the other was bare where her blouse had slipped down.

  Desire teased his body. He looked toward the spot where Avra stood earlier and back at Isabel. “I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry, sorry to my gut. But—it has to be over.”

  She slapped him across the cheek and spat a vile name at him in Spanish. Her opal eyes glittered as she stood and buttoned her blouse with choppy movements.

  The taillights of her sister’s car carried her down Riverside Drive and away. He sunk to the damp sand, his head drooping between his knees. He’d done the right thing; why did he still feel dirty and empty? Water rippled at his feet. He weighed getting drunk to forget.

  A warm breeze—a caress—lifted his hair from his face and shoulders. God was here where Avra had stood. He knew, somehow.

  His gaze skimmed the water. Tiny fishing boats strung along the Intercoastal like charms on a chain. In his mind he named them. The boats farthest away, returning to their moorings were last summer’s sins—so many girls, one he only knew as New Jersey.

  Later, still stone cold sober, after driving aimlessly for what seemed like hours, he climbed out of the Geo, surprised he’d only moved a few miles downriver. A Bud Light can sloshed against the beach, reminding him of the nights he’d gotten drunk or stoned. Funny, he’d never thought getting high was wrong—not till he’d heard that Bible verse at Avra’s church.

  His eyes focused on a boat with a bright shrimp light swaying overhead. It represented the light of the bonfire—when he cheated on Avra in the back of Billy’s van. The boats on the far side of the inlet bobbed, flashlights glinting crazily—two months of partying with Isabel. The glow of a lone running light hovered over a boat in the middle of the river. He stared at it for a long time—Avra’s heart.

  He lay back on the cool sand. He wanted to retch. His mind, like the sky, had gone black and white, clearer than it had been in a long time.

  “God,” he said to the sky, “I’ve been hearing all year how You took the punishment for my crap.” He gestured toward the inlet. The stars ran together. Tears seeped out of the corners of his eyes and trailed into his ears. “I’m ashamed. I’m sorry. I wanna be clean.”

  He rolled to his side, curling around huge racking sobs that rose from his chest. Shelly sand dug into his cheek. Eventually, he quieted and sat up, taking a deep quivering breath. “I wanna be that kid in the story hiking home to his dad. I don’t deserve anything from You but I want it all. I want Your kiss on my cheek.” He scraped the shell pieces from his face. “I want You for my Dad.”

  The stars glinted through the leftover tears in his eyes. He stood, brushing the damp sand from his limbs, and scrubbed the sand from his hair. He scanned the river. Swept clean, the last boat cutting under the bridge. His lip cracked when he smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Chapter 21

  Kallie stopped in the surf to hear Avra’s answer.

  “I actually feel better after venting to Cisco.”

  “Jesse and I aren’t even going out, but see
ing him kiss Tía felt like he shoved me under a train.”

  “Jesse has a girlfriend? I’ve never known him to even go on a date.”

  Could Jesse possibly be safe? “Blood spurted everywhere—”

  “Enough with the gory analogies.”

  “Hey, I listened to you moan about Cisco—”

  “Blood squirts—”

  “I could hardly breathe, it hurt so badly. But you went through a lot worse, and you’re fine. Why?”

  “You could say it was coincidence, but I think God answered my prayer for closure. I’ve needed to have this conversation with Cisco ever since he cheated.”

  Kallie sunk into the shin-deep water, the warm surf sudsing around her. What if God ... “I thought it was a fluke ... I asked God for comfort.”

  Avra knelt down. “What happened?”

  “I felt sort of peaceful. Then—this is the really weird part—I started thinking about Tía—how she was new in town and probably needed a friend.”

  “Wow. God answered your prayer.”

  A wave washed in and she put a hand on the bottom to steady herself. “That was a prayer?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Had God really bothered to answer her melodramatic plea? Didn’t He have more important things to attend to? Maybe it was reverse PMS. Maybe she had an isolated bipolar experience. Maybe she wasn’t half in love with Jesse. “I’m in a dark cave feeling around for God. I hope He—or whatever I’m looking for—is in there.”

  Avra grabbed her arm. “Kallie, He’s in your cave, and you’re going to find Him, I promise.”

  How could Avra be so sure? She studied the light in her friend’s eyes and wondered, not for the first time, where it came from. “I hope so.”

  Avra lay back on her elbows in the surf. “Come to church with me.”

  Was it a sin to go to a Protestant church?

  “Your church emphasizes God’s holiness. Mine talks about connecting with him. Same Jesus.”

 

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