Avra's God

by Ann Lee Miller

  Royal blue metal whizzed across Dixie in his rearview mirror. He cut down Ronnoc Lane.

  “I choose to forgive you, Tía, for Kyle O’Brien’s car, the things you said to me that day, for cutting me off.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. The haze of his obsession with Tía faded like a stream of jet fuel disappearing in the sky. His left brain yawned and woke. He could think again.

  He slowed to a stop as the railroad-crossing arm blocked the street. The train blasted by, making him think of Kallie.

  She’d given him perfect silence since Neon Green. She hadn’t flicked an evergreen eye in his direction. And the song hadn’t worked—he’d never gotten her completely out of his head.

  Tía’s knowing him happened accidentally, like tripping on the way across a room. But Kallie mined every song for clues to what was going on inside him. The fog that was Tía had blown away, but Kallie still sat in the middle of his life like a train wreck he’d caused.

  Avra rolled over to the red glow of the numbers on her clock. Three a.m. and she hadn’t slept yet. Cisco’s call for prayer had been their only conversation this week. If she kept a tally, it would be in the plus column.

  Listening to Cisco retell his time with Isabel had been excruciating—even worse than she’d imagined. But she had to know it all. Minus column. Way.

  He didn’t love Isabel. Plus. He cheated anyway. Minus times three.

  He knew better than to say he still loved her, but he was acting like it. Plus, plus.

  Did she still love him? She was light-years from an answer to that question. Her anger had subsided, but hurt still permeated every pore. If she could just not feel, that would be good enough.

  She had Cisco’s remorse. She had personal closure. Why couldn’t she forgive him and close this chapter of her life? She sat up and bunched her pillow in her arms. It smashed flat against her ribs, making her arms ache for Cisco.

  He’d show up on her porch at seven. The question was, would she? If she didn’t meet him in four hours, he’d leave her alone. She’d never have to talk to him again. He’d understand.

  Chapter 24

  Avra’s front door creaked open behind Cisco.

  Pure hot springs of relief washed through his body. He twisted around on the front step to look at Avra. “I’m surprised you came out again.”

  She bundled the quilt more securely around her. “Me too.”

  He searched her face, hungry for some clue of what was going on inside. Dark smudges shone through the translucent skin under her eyes. “You didn’t sleep.”

  Her fluffy slippers and the bottom half of her jeans shuffled to the swing. “Same as last Friday night.” She settled on the swing.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter whether she slept or not. She pulled a black spiral notebook from under the quilt and handed it to him. “It’s a journal I wrote about my feelings going through this.”

  He thumbed through the pages. “You wrote a book.”

  “I don’t react quickly to stuff.” She tucked a leg under her on the swing. “I have to go home, think about it, write it out. I have four other journals—different subjects, different colors.”

  Realization hit him. “That’s why you’re so calm all the time. You get your emotions out in private.”

  “Not so private since I’m sharing them with you.”

  He bent over the notebook. Avra’s words fired at him like buckshot. He felt her eyes on him and glanced up. “You weren’t a fool for trusting me. You expected the best from me. I don’t know if anyone else has ever done that. You were gutsy to give a loser like me a chance.”

  A dry laugh burst out of her. “Let’s be honest here. You were one of the most popular, hottest guys on campus. You spoke to me and my entire body and brain melted into a puddle on the floor.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Maybe we’ll talk about it another Saturday.”

  “Sign me up for that Saturday.” He returned to the journal, tossing her pain like lead fishing sinkers into the pack on his back. “This was not your fault. This was all about my taking something God wants me to go on wanting. This is about my sin.” He read another page. “No, you should not have given me sex.”

  Avra shifted and the swing creaked. “You never pressured me, never asked me outright. I appreciate that. In a way, you protected me.”

  “No, I just whined and complained, trying to wear you down. But you’re right. I couldn’t ask you. It was like ‘the princess loves me.’ I couldn’t bring you down to my level.”

  He read on, page after page, his lips moving with the words. I trusted Cisco completely and he betrayed me—shattered me in a billion pieces. He shut the notebook and stared at the black cover. His eyes felt wet.

  He tossed the notebook onto the swing beside Avra and stood. His hands dug into his pockets as he searched her face to see if there was anything else she needed to tell him. He reached for her hands. “Avra, I never want to cause you to write another page in that book.” Her fingers squeezed his, and they peered into each other’s eyes until the revving of the garbage truck disturbed them.

  Cisco eyed his sister from where he hunched over a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. “Archie—”

  “Don’t call me that!” She shot a glare over her shoulder and went back to the pan of bacon sputtering on the stove. “You know I hate it.”

  “Fine, Arjelia.”

  “Ari.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You’re such a jerk. Mamá should have kicked you out with Pop—”

  His spoon slipped from his hand and clattered in his bowl.“¡Ciate!” He scraped his chair back. “Mamá kicked Pops out?”

  Arjelia turned toward him, spatula in hand. “You didn’t know?”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  She set the spatula on the counter and clicked the burner off. “If you ever hung out at home you’d sabe the family dirt. ¿Sí?” She leaned on the counter as the bacon quieted. “Hermano, what difference does it make?” Her voice gentled.

  He stared at the broken eggshells lying on the counter, stunned.

  “They’re split; they’re never getting back together.” There was compassion in her tone, something that hadn’t passed between them in a long time.

  Arjelia stood over him, gripping the soft flesh of her upper arms, her eyes fixed on his Coco Puffs floating in milk.

  He’d been angry with Pops for two years for something he didn’t do. This was one thing he could fix. He breathed deeply, stood, and gave his sister a quick hug.

  Her eyes popped wide.

  He pushed through the back screen door, letting it smack against the doorjamb behind him.

  Two hours later, he sat kicking the seawall with the heels of his flip-flops. His eyes scanned the Indian River for the hundredth time and stopped on a yawl sailing through the gap in the drawbridge. Pops.

  Pops zipped around the deck dropping sail, tossing plastic fenders over the gunwale, pushing the bungee corded tiller with his foot until Freedom’s Call nosed toward shore. His face registered surprise, then delight, when he spotted Cisco. Pops heaved the coiled stern mooring line across the water into Cisco’s chest. He scooped up the bowline, and leapt ashore. Father and son threw their weight against the lines, slowing Freedom’s Call to a smooth stop beside the seawall.

  “Thanks, Francisco. Docking this barge ’bout turns my hair gray.” He looped the fore line over a piling. Cisco bent and cleated the stern line. “I got a couple fresh grouper to fry up. Have some lunch?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me Mamá kicked you out?”

  “It wasn’t your business.”

  “It’s my life we’re talking about.”

  Pops exhaled loudly through his nose, a sound Cisco had heard his whole life when Pops was annoyed. “It was between me and your mother. This doesn’t concern you kids.”

  He jutted his chin at his father. “I’ve spent the last two years hating
your guts for walking out on us. I’ve blamed you for Mamá working like an illegal. The girls have reverted to their natural state. We’re living in the freakin’ projects.”

  Pops squinted at him in the sunlight. “It’s still not your stuff to get into. Your mamá and I love you. Period. That’s all you need to know.”

  “I’m already neck-deep into your stuff. I’ve spent the last two years making stupid choices. Maybe I wouldn’t have made ‘em. Hell, I don’t know. But I’ve messed up Avra’s life too. She doesn’t deserve this kind of grief—” His throat tightened and he swallowed hard. He stared at his father through eyes slitted against the sun.

  Pops stepped onto the deck of Freedom’s Call as if he wanted water between him and Cisco’s anger. “Your mamá is a fine woman. We had some good years. It was the Cubano–Florida Cracker thing that killed us in the end. The last ten years, we were just existing in the same house. Yeah, she pulled the plug, but there was no water in the tank by then.”

  “That’s it? Hit my life with a wrecking ball, and all you have to say is, ‘there was no water in the tank?’ What? You couldn’t have fought for the marriage for my sake, for the girls’?”

  “I fought for ten years. I fought till I didn’t have any fight left.” His jaw clenched as he stared across the gap between them. “I don’t have to justify anything to you.” He turned toward the companionway to go below.

  Cisco’s words stopped him. “Maybe if you had—no, I’m blaming you, been blaming you for two years. Your leaving knifed me, but I trashed my own life.”

  Pops turned back around. “I’m sorry the divorce strung you out. I had no idea. You’ve got your mother’s Latin blood.”

  Cisco stared at his father’s sun-leathered skin, a day’s worth of growth on his jaw coming in gray, his thick biceps, the tattoo he knew by heart: Siempre Lourdes. Well, it hadn’t been for always, had it?

  Let it go, the voice in his head said. Was it God?

  Pops motioned with his head toward the boat. “Have some grouper.”

  Cisco’s stomach growled in response. He sucked in a breath and stepped across the green water to their future.

  Cisco’s Geo plowed to a neat stop at the Martins’ curb.

  Drew stepped out the front door, followed by Kurt, into the Sunday morning chill.

  Cisco climbed out of the car. He stopped at the cement walk that led to the house. “I was thinking about catching a ride to church.”

  Silence.

  Cisco dug his hands into his pockets. “I can take the Geo.” He glanced back at his car.

  Kurt skewered Cisco with his eyes. “I wish you’d take a hike—back out of Avra’s life.”

  Kurt might as well have thrown a punch. These guys had been brothers to him longer than he’d gone out with Avra.

  Kurt cracked a knuckle, the sound loud in the quiet that cloaked them. “But I’ve been praying. God says I have to forgive you.”

  Drew fake-coughed.

  Kurt’s hostility zinged back and forth the length of the walk between them. He blew out a breath and crossed the distance between them. He stopped toe-to-toe with Cisco and searched his eyes.

  Cisco’s fists clenched in his pockets, bracing himself for Kurt’s punch. Bring it on.

  Jaw hard, Kurt reached a hand toward him. “I forgive you, man.”

  Cisco unclenched his hand and slapped it into Kurt’s.

  “Don’t hurt Avra again.”

  Cisco gripped Kurt’s hand, then threw his free arm around him and slapped his back. “I won’t.” Forgiveness on any terms tasted sweet.

  Drew went straight for the hug. “Same here.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Avra and Kallie walked out the door talking to Avra’s parents.

  Cisco swiped at his eyes. Avra caught the motion. She scanned the group as if she were looking for an explanation.

  Cisco’s gaze settled on her, taking in the soft blue blouse, the long-legged jeans, dainty earrings dangling from her lobes, the blonde in her hair catching the intermittent shafts of sunlight. Looking at her was a rare treat he savored these days. He tore his gaze away and piled into the backseat of the Martin’s minivan wedged between Kurt and Drew.

  Avra sat in the sound booth sneaking peeks at Cisco. The song ended. His eyes had slipped shut; a slight smile tugged at his lips. She could almost feel worship radiating from him. For all his faults, he wasn’t a poser. He really had changed since the Fourth of July.

  After church Kurt and Drew maneuvered Kallie into riding in the backseat with them. Cisco climbed in next to Avra and slid his arm across the back of the seat behind her, the way he used to. She waited for the tug on her hair that always came next, but he jerked his arm back as though he’d slipped into habit without thinking.

  So had she. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she held and scooted closer to the window. Dad’s hand reached across the empty space between the front seats to grip Mom’s as the minivan bumped along. She wanted that kind of forever trust—not what Cisco had to offer. Still, she’d have to be in a coma not to feel the current running between them.

  She twisted around to look at Kallie. “What did you think about church?”

  Kallie’s forehead wrinkled. “Do you think God really has an opinion about my career—that he’d show me what to do?”

  “Absolutely.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cisco’s brows arch. What was he thinking? Curiosity about the spiritual man who had moved into Cisco’s body gnawed at her solar plexus.

  Avra rocked the swing back and forth. A blanket of white fog shrouded the street. She heard Cisco’s rhythmic footfalls before she saw him come up the walk with a fistful of gardenias. Relief shot through her. “You came.” She took the stubby stems of white petals framed in deep green leaves from him and breathed them in. “Thanks.” She laid them on the windowsill behind the swing, and their pungency hung in the fog.

  “Of course I came. I wanted to spend more time with you than these garbage dates, but right now maybe this is all we can handle.” He yawned and stretched.

  Her eyes darted to the patch of stomach Cisco unconsciously exposed. Her breath caught. She looked away. “Sit here. I want to show you something.” She slid to one end of the swing and handed him a blanket.

  Cisco draped it over his shoulders and sat, his weight jostling her. “When do I get to pick what we do on Saturday mornings?”

  “This was your choice.”

  He shot her a skeptical look. “O—kay ...”

  “You asked for it last week.”

  He leaned toward her and looked closely. “Sleep?”

  “Yeah.”

  He relaxed against the swing. “Good.”

  She opened the oversized scrapbook onto their laps. The first page displayed an empty package of chocolate chips. “Remember the first time we made cookies together?”

  “Yeah, you were crabby.”

  His breath was warm on her cheek and she shifted away. “I get crabby when I’m nervous.”

  “So I’ve learned. Hey, that’s a picture from the car wash—not my best side.”

  “It’s a picture of the shoulder you made me kiss after I rat-tailed you.”

  His finger touched the Hershey Kiss streamer.

  He lifted each page and read every item.

  Were the memories happy for him too?

  He traced the small shell with a ribbon threaded through it.

  In the hazy whiteness of the morning, her hand crept over his, seemingly of its own volition. “Our first kiss.”

  He smiled. She could almost feel the seconds tick by. His skin was warm under her fingers. The swing creaked. His smile melted until it was only lit in his eyes. He shifted closer to her, his expression changing to a question.

  Chapter 25

  Cisco hung on the fence at the end of the soccer field. “Thanks for coming, Jess. I owe you. No way would Avra go out with me, but she’ll be cool with us driving her home.”

  The final whistle blew
and the girls jogged across the grass under the glare of the field lights. He and Jesse walked around to where Avra crouched, stowing a water bottle in her duffle.

  “Hey.”

  Avra’s head popped up. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. He couldn’t tell if she was glad to see him or just surprised. He hoped he hadn’t screwed things up on Saturday, almost kissing her.

  “How much of the game did you catch?” she said.

  “Last quarter.” He put his hand up. “Nice goal in the lower right corner.”

  She slapped his hand, grinning.

  Maybe we’re okay.

  He motioned with his head. “Me and Jess wanna drive you home.” Please say yes.

  Avra glanced down at her sweaty soccer uniform, smoothed a hand over her ponytail, and shrugged. “Why not?”

  Yes!

  Kallie walked up.

  “We’re riding home with Cisco and Jesse,” Avra said.

  Kallie startled when she heard Jesse’s name and she looked around till she saw him standing by the fence. Her color went splotchy. What was that all about?

  Avra and Cisco turned away, talking about the first three quarters of the game, and headed for the car.

  Kallie eyed Jesse warily and fell into step with him. Tía told her she’d broken up with Jesse weeks ago, but this was the first time she’d had to face him since Neon Green.

  Jesse caught her gaze. “How’s the train wreck?”

  Her heart raced as if she’d just drunk six shots of espresso. “Mangled beyond recognition.”

  “What? No blood oozing from the wreckage?”

  Kallie’s eyes darted back to his. “That’s not black dirt around the tracks. It’s old blood soaked into the ground. They carried the corpses away months ago.”

  Jesse grinned. “Same old Kallie.”

  At Jesse’s grin, their friendship that was supposed to be dead in a box in the shed sat up and looked around.