California Sunrise

by Casey Dawes

  Her grandmother’s lips were dry and her skin waxen. There were so many tubes, Alicia didn’t dare touch her. “She looks so little, so sunken,” she said to Raúl, tears streaming down her face.

  “She’s still there. Some part of her can hear and feel you. It’s okay if you touch her hand. Talk to her. I’ll wait outside. You have only a few minutes.”

  “Sí.”

  When had her grandmother’s skin become so papery? What else hadn’t she noticed in her rush to live her own life?

  A life that she needed to change irrevocably.

  Whatever it took, Alicia would relieve the stress from her grandmother’s life. As much as she hated to, she was going to have to ask for help.

  Chapter 14

  “How are you?” Raúl asked as she walked out of the hospital room.

  “Okay, I guess.” She took in a deep breath and let it out. “She’s going to need care.”

  “Only for a little while. Once they fix the problem, she’ll recover and be able to do many of the things she used to do.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “That leaves you in a quandry, though,” he said as they walked down the hallway.

  “Luis.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your mother? Is she willing to help? You should probably call her anyway.”

  “I’ll call her tomorrow. She can’t do anything now.” Alicia’s temples began to pound.

  They reached the lobby. “How is she?” Juan asked when he joined them.

  “As well as can be,” Raúl said. “Do you mind if I drive Alicia home? You can follow me in my car.”

  “I can do it myself.” She wanted him around her too much tonight—she needed to do this on her own. It was bad enough she had to ask for help to care for her son so she could work, go to school, and do all the other things that living entailed.

  She suddenly felt smothered with responsibility, and she gasped for air. The space, as big as it was, seemed too small. She needed to get outside. Now.

  She pushed away from Raúl and headed to the main doors, a loud swoosh announcing her exit.

  “Alicia, wait.” Raúl’s voice was faint behind her.

  If she could get to her car, she’d be okay. As she walked, she dug for her keys. Where were they? Everything else was there. Where had she left them?

  When she reached the fountain in front of the hospital, her actions caused the purse to slip from her hands, contents careening in every direction, including her keys. She dropped to her knees on the damp ground, grasping for items and stuffing them back into her purse, dimly aware of the tears streaming down her face and the hiccupping sobs escaping from her chest.

  “Alicia, cariño, come here.”

  “I have to ... need my ... keys.” She let Raúl lift her to her feet and pull her close before she lost total control, crying out the fear and pain in her heart.

  He held her as she sobbed, comforting her in Spanish, the melodic words reaching a spot deep in her memory where her father’s voice lived.

  The pain suffused her body more intensely, loss building on loss, until there was nothing left to release. Exhausted, she leaned against Raúl, safe in his arms.

  “You’d better stay with her tonight,” Juan said.

  “Sí.”

  Too tired to protest, she let him lead her to her car, not really seeing anything on the way home.

  The porch light glowed yellow, casting the wicker furniture in jaundiced relief. Her legs were leaden as she climbed the steps, knowing her grandmother wasn’t there to greet her.

  “Raúl?” Sarah was on the couch, a magazine in her hands.

  “How’s Luis?” Alicia asked.

  “Sleeping.” Sarah stood and hugged her. “How’s your grandmother?”

  “Heart attack.” Her voice was wooden, and she sank into Abuela’s recliner, staring at nothing.

  “Her grandmother will be okay,” Raúl said. “I’m worried about Alicia.”

  I’m fine. But the words never made it to her lips.

  “I can stay,” Sarah said.

  “It’s okay. I’ll stay the night. She’s going to need some help, though. What about her mother?”

  Why were they talking about her as if she couldn’t hear them?

  “They used to be close, but they had a blow-up after Luis was born. I don’t know what happened.”

  “She should call her, though, let her know what’s happening. Maybe she could come down and help.”

  “I don’t want my mother.” This time she was able to speak.

  She pushed herself up from the chair. “I’ll call her tomorrow, but I don’t need her here.” She rubbed her temples. “I’ll figure something out. Right now, I need sleep.” Gathering her last remaining droplets of strength, she smiled at Sarah. “Thanks for everything.”

  “I’ll let my mom know you probably won’t be in to work.”

  “Okay.”

  “Call you tomorrow. See you, Raúl.”

  The click of the door closing joined the lineup of snare drummers in her head.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Thanks. I’ll be okay. You can go home if you want.”

  “I’m going to sleep right here on the couch. You have any blankets?”

  She pointed to the linen closet, too exhausted to play hostess for a guest she wasn’t sure she wanted.

  “Go to bed, Alicia, before you fall over.” He gave her a gentle hug, his warmth a comfort.

  “Thanks, Raúl. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He kissed the top of her head. “Bed. We’ll deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

  • • •

  When she fought through the veil of sleep the next morning, Alicia knew something was wrong, but it took her a few moments to realize what.

  Abuela.

  Her breath left her. She glanced at the crib.

  Luis. Where was he?

  She staggered out to the kitchen in her nightgown.

  “Coffee?” Raúl looked very much at home in her grandmother’s house.

  “Luis?”

  He gestured to the playpen. Luis was putting shapes through the appropriate plastic holes—over and over again.

  “Don’t you have to be at work?” She accepted the full mug and sat down at the table.

  “In an hour. I was just about to wake you. Juan is on his way.”

  “Juan’s the secret you were keeping from me.”

  “Yes.” Raúl sat down across the table from her. “Do you understand now why I couldn’t tell you?”

  Her emotions flipped back and forth. She needed to own her part of the argument, but she still didn’t want there to be secrets.

  But what if he felt telling her was betraying Juan?

  “I understand why you didn’t want to tell me about Juan, but I still don’t like the idea of secrets.”

  “They’re going to happen. Sometimes there’s a good reason for them.”

  “And sometimes there isn’t.” She twisted her fingers together. “I know you think I’m overreacting, and maybe time will change that, but …”

  Couldn’t he see how important this was to her?

  “I can promise I’ll never keep a secret that would hurt you.” He took her hand.

  She was still uneasy. No one could make a promise like that.

  “I can see that’s not working for you. How about we take it one secret at a time?”

  “Is that a little like ‘one day at a time’?”

  He smiled. “Could be.”

  She allowed him to envelop her hand in his. His warmth traveled up her arm, soothing the vestiges of the near-death chill from Abuela’s heart attack. His gaze was staring intently into hers. They’d hit other disagreements, but that was true of anyone. She wanted her independence, but what would she lose if she let this man go?

  “Thank you for staying last night. And for letting me sleep. I guess I needed it.”

  “Sleep is more healing than we know. W
hat are you going to do now?”

  “I guess call my mother.” She gritted her teeth at the prospect.

  “What’s up with you two? Sarah said you used to be close.”

  “Can we talk about that later?”

  “Yes. For now. But not forever, Alicia.” He tapped her hand with his index finger. “You’re right about one thing. Secrets between people erode trust.”

  Secrets could do more damage than that.

  “Sarah said she’d take Luis when I go to see my grandmother. I’ll skip class tonight, so that will take care of today. Somehow, I’ve got to find another place for him.”

  He frowned. “Don’t skip class. I can take him.”

  “But what if something happens with Abuela?”

  “I’ll call you. I know the nurses. I can find out what’s going on faster than they’d notify you anyway.”

  “But I just can’t go to school while she’s sick. It feels wrong.”

  “I’m sure she’d want you to go. It will be good for you.” He squeezed her hand. “Go, Alicia. Everything will be okay.”

  His dark brown eyes were steady on hers, providing reassurance. Could she let go a little—depend on someone other than herself? Was it possible for a man to be honest and loyal?

  • • •

  Alicia sat on the wooden bench in Sarah’s garden to call her mother. She’d gotten Luis down for an infrequent nap, and Sarah had encouraged her to go outside. July was almost over, although California seasons paid little respect to the subtle passage of time. Grass browned as the summer passed, particularly in the Central Valley, but here on the coast, lush greenery stayed steady until the winter rains.

  She luxuriated in the peace of the garden, expertly placed plants and flowers providing a colorful backdrop for the small birds that flitted in the brush.

  Almost two months had passed since she first met Raúl, and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about him.

  Liar, an internal voice chastised her.

  Okay. She was ... well ... if she were honest, she was falling in love with him, but something was holding her back.

  The freedom tapping technique the coach had suggested, along with Raúl’s willingness to do his part, had relieved some of the tension she’d felt.

  Her parents hadn’t held secrets from each other. Her dad had never promised to leave Elizabeth. Her mother had been grateful for the scraps he’d given her.

  Alicia would never accept so little.

  But was her mother’s share of Joe Fuentes any less than Elizabeth’s? They’d loved and laughed together, but there were never any holidays in her memory. She must have believed whatever excuses her mother had told her, and her father had died too early for her to suspect the truth.

  After Alicia had became pregnant, her mother had finally owned up to the reality of her affair to Alicia—and Elizabeth. She could only imagine the pain Serena had caused her lover’s wife when she showed up on her doorstep.

  She scrolled to her mother’s number on her phone and called.

  “Hello, Mom.”

  “Alicia. It’s so good to hear from you.” Her mother’s voice held caution.

  There was no good way to say it. “Abuela’s in the hospital. She had a heart attack.”

  “Is she ... Will she …?”

  “They have to run some tests. I just saw her. She’s weak but okay. Once they find out what’s wrong, they can do something to help her. It may take a few days, though.”

  “What about Luis? Do you need my help?”

  Her mother would be the simple solution to her problem—except that would mean having her around.

  “No. I’m fine. Sarah’s helping.”

  “I see.” The silence between them iced. “I’ll call the hospital and find out when I can see her.”

  “She’s in intensive care. They don’t let anyone in very often.”

  “She’s my mother. I’m not going to sit in Los Banos while she’s in the hospital.”

  “Whatever.”

  “When are you going to forgive me, Alicia? Nothing happened to you. Elizabeth was the one who was hurt.”

  “And Sarah.”

  “Yes. But both of them have forgiven us, have been willing to move past it. You were a small child when he died. Your memories are good.”

  “But what would have happened if he hadn’t died, Mom? I would have found out. I would have been so ashamed.”

  “Why? Because your dad wasn’t always around?”

  “Because you cheated, Mom. He broke his marriage vows, and you helped him.”

  “Since when are you so concerned about marriage, Alicia? You didn’t care when you were chasing Eduardo.”

  “That’s what you always say—like my choices excuse yours. No wonder I made mistakes. Who showed me the way, Mom?”

  She gripped the phone tightly. She should stop.

  “Alicia, I can’t change the past.” Tears choked her mother’s voice. “I want to be a part of your life—of Luis’s life. Time will go by so fast. Bitterness destroys happiness. I don’t want to see you without love and joy in your life. I’d ask you to forgive me, but those I’ve wronged have already done that. I’ve confessed my sins. When are you going to let go of your anger?”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  After she’d hung up with her mother, she pulled her knees into her chest and stared at the little sliver of ocean she could see through the trees. Her mother was right. She hadn’t been hurt, but she still felt ashamed by what her parents had done.

  Would forgiving her mother release her shame or increase it?

  Straightening her legs, she stood and walked down the path to the cliff. Below her, the highway clogged with traffic—soccer moms, commuters, people merely trying to get from one end of the county to the other. Horns blared, indicating a driver’s temper.

  The hurt in her mother’s voice had been real.

  Madre Dios. She’d been clinging to her anger like a child with a rag doll.

  It’s time to grow up, Alicia. Time to own your life.

  • • •

  After classes ended, Alicia drove to Raúl’s condo, her concern ramping up with each mile. What if Luis had pulled one of his tantrums? What if Raúl wasn’t the person she thought he was? How could she handle it?

  The same way she’d dealt with everything else. She’d square her shoulders and put one foot in front of the other.

  Raúl must have sensed her coming because he opened the door before she knocked. He had Luis in his arms. Her son was in his pajamas and sound asleep.

  “How did you do that?” she whispered.

  “I gave him a little control. He chose whether he wanted his bath before or after dessert.”

  “He understood that?”

  Raúl motioned for her to walk back to her car. “He’s not stupid, Alicia. In fact, his IQ is probably quite high. The more I see him, the more I believe he’s high on the Asperger’s scale. So, tonight I tried some of the techniques I’ve read about in medical journals. The fact that it worked confirms my belief more.”

  He settled her son into his car seat. She shut the car door as gently as she could. If Luis woke, she’d have a terrible time getting him back to sleep.

  Luis stirred but didn’t wake.

  “Thank you.” Her heart filled with warmth. Not many people would be as enthusiastic to tend for a child who could be difficult.

  The chirp of crickets and the voice of an occasional bullfrog dominated the whoosh of traffic in the distance, and murmurs of residents whispered through the night air. It was a moment made for love.

  She should leave.

  Instead, she looked into his eyes, visible in the light mounted on his building. His pupils seemed to throb with a mixture of feelings: sorrow, caring, and warmth.

  He put his hands on her arms, a question in his eyes.

  Her body stilled. A first kiss was an experiment, a second an acknowledgement.

  He lowered his head and kissed her, chastely a
t first, then with a hunger driven by years of longing.

  She parted her lips.

  His tongue slipped between them and caressed their softness. He leaned toward her and put his arms around her, deepening his kiss.

  Her body was a taut piano wire. She strained to get closer, standing on tiptoes. Her body ached for him, longing for his commitment.

  But that was the problem. For a man, sex didn’t spell commitment.

  She pulled back.

  He groaned but released her. “I’m sorry. I thought it’s what you wanted.”

  “It is—was, but ...” She put her hand on his chest, already missing the warmth between them.

  “But what?” Instead of the ire she’d anticipated, his voice was gentle.

  She gestured to the car. “I know where this leads.”

  “Do you think I’m a teenager?” He smiled. “That was a long time ago, Alicia. If I only wanted the comfort of a woman in my bed, I wouldn’t be kissing you.” He feathered his fingers down her face. “You deserve much more than that.”

  “But how do you know it will be worth it—if you wait. I mean, what if we break up?”

  “We’ve already broken up, and yet here we are. You’re a fighter, Alicia, and so am I. This won’t be easy. To say we have baggage is like comparing an overnight case to a steamer trunk.”

  “And you’re willing to try? I’m young. Too young for you.”

  “I don’t think of you as eighteen.”

  “Almost nineteen.”

  “Ah, yes, almost nineteen. I think of you as a woman I want to get to know, perhaps learn to love.”

  “Love?”

  He touched her face again. “It’s possible.”

  “Isn’t it too soon?”

  “Tell me, cariño, what do you feel for me?” He sat on the low wall beside the driveway and pulled her next to him.

  When she’d told Eduardo she loved him, he’d laughed and smacked her cheek. “Poor little girl thinks she’s in l-uh-v,” he’d mocked. She may have been in love with Luis’s father, but he’d never shared the feeling.

  Her father had been in love with two women.

  How the hell was she supposed to know what the word meant?

  “I’m not sure. I like you. I care for you.”

  “And when I touch you?”

  “I ... um ... like it.” She twisted a lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail.