by Casey Dawes
She watched her mother come down the steps. While their relationship still had moments of awkwardness, she was glad she’d made her peace. Releasing her anger had given her the freedom to move forward in her own life.
Now if she could only be confident of what that direction should be.
“Yes,” Alicia agreed, “it’s a great day to be on the shore, not stuck in the heat of the San Joaquin Valley.”
“True.” The clicking of her mother’s heels accompanied the skittering sound of the stroller’s wheels. “It might be time to abandon the Valley altogether.”
“Are you going to do it? Leave Los Banos?” While her mother had hinted she might move to the coast, she hadn’t made a firm commitment.
“I’d like to be closer to you and Luis—and my mother. She’s not going to be able to handle him alone much longer.”
“I know.”
They were silent as they approached the small market. After they’d crossed the final street, she heard footsteps behind her. A chill crawled up her skin, in spite of the windless day.
Someone grabbed her arm.
“I want my son.”
Eduardo.
She shook him off and turned. Graciela stood to his right, her fisted hands on her hips.
“I got the judge’s order today,” she said, aware that her mother had moved to flank Luis’s other side. “You lost. Go back to the Valley where you belong. And take your fiancée”—she made a mockery of the word as she said it—“with you.”
“I’m not leaving without my son. I don’t care what any judge says.”
“You are leaving right now, or I will call the cops.” Her mother had her cell phone out.
“It’s none of your business, lady.”
“He’s my grandson.”
“You’re going to make a big mistake if you use that phone.” Eduardo took a step toward her mother.
“Don’t you touch her!” Alicia gripped her purse, heavy with a sociology book she’d been reading, and squared her shoulders.
“I’m taking my son.” Eduardo made a move toward Luis.
“Leave him alone!” she screamed and swung her purse.
“Ouch! You bitch!”
Luis began to shriek. Over and over.
People gathered around them.
“Make him stop doing that, or I will!” Eduardo’s voice darkened.
“He’s scared. The only time he’ll stop is when he’s good and ready.” She prayed he’d keep going until Eduardo decided he’d had enough.
“That’s ’cause you’ve spoiled him,” Graciela said.
“You know that’s not true.” Alicia tried to step between Eduardo and Luis, but Eduardo pushed her away.
“I’m taking him. I’ll teach him to be a man—something you and that lame doctor won’t be able to do.”
Luis kept shrieking.
“Stop it!” Eduardo yelled at him. He pulled back his arm, his palm open, shifting his weight to his back leg.
Her mother grabbed one of the stroller’s handles for balance, hooked her foot around Eduardo’s front ankle, and jerked backward.
His arms pinwheeled, but he couldn’t keep his balance and fell against Graciela. She went down to the ground, and he landed on her.
“What’s going on here?”
Alicia was never so thankful to see a cop in her life. “He’s trying to take my son.”
Eduardo struggled to his feet. “He’s my son.”
The officer looked at her. “Is that true?”
“That man,” she pointed to Eduardo, “is the biological father of my son.” Luis’s shrieking stopped. She glanced over to see her mother quietly talking to him, one hand on his small arm. Turning back to the officer, she said, “We went to court. Eduardo applied for custody, but the judge didn’t give it to him.” She dug through her purse. “Here.”
The officer scanned the paper. “You’re Eduardo Vasquez?”
“Yes.”
“You live in Watsonville?”
“Los Banos.”
“Do you want to press charges?” the office asked Alicia.
Her mother was still engaged with Luis, so there was no advice coming from that source. Pressing charges might make things worse, increasing Eduardo’s anger and making him lose face. Tempting as it was, she didn’t want to put Luis’s father in jail. He’d probably get there on his own, anyway.
“Not now,” she replied, “thank you.”
Graciela struggled to her feet. The officer gave her a hand. “And you are?”
“His girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. Not fiancée. It must have been an act for the judge.
“And where do you live?”
“Watsonville.”
The officer made a few notes on a smartphone, then tapped some other keys. “You’re lucky. No outstanding warrants.” He slid the device back into its holder. “Just the same, I think it’s time for you to return to Los Banos,” he said to Eduardo. “If you bother this young lady and her child again, I’ll arrest you. Understood?”
Eduardo glared at Alicia and the cop, but seemed to think better of protesting.
“Sí.” He took one more look at Luis, then stalked off in the opposite direction from the market, Graciela trailing behind.
Despite her anger and fear, Alicia was saddened by the whole mess. She’d loved him once, the way only a first love can be—an odd combination of innocence and lust. But he hadn’t been the man she’d believed he was.
Not the kind of man she wanted Luis to grow up to become.
“Thank you,” she said to the cop.
“Be careful. He doesn’t look like someone you want to tangle with.”
“I’ll be careful.” She smiled at her mother. “Shall we get our things?”
Her mother stood. “Sure.”
She grabbed the stroller handles and walked toward the market without a glance at the past behind her.
Chapter 25
After her shift, Alicia drove up to Grenaldi’s Market and picked up fresh cauliflower, small red potatoes, and a piece of salmon. She tossed in a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream for good measure.
The sun lowered itself into the western sky. Days were getting shorter, the last rays of secret summer ebbing away. A feeling of contentment washed over her. Winter might be coming, but spring had taken root in her soul. She and her mother were back on good terms, the threat to Luis was diminished, and she had a future ahead of her—one that included the possibility of a four-year degree.
Now all she had to do was figure out if there was any possibility of a relationship with Raúl.
His car was in the condo’s driveway. She pulled the tote from her car and walked to the door, nervousness slowing her steps.
After Raúl opened the door, he stood there, surprise, pleasure, and caution etched on his face. “I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I have things to tell you.”
He grabbed her tote and took her hand. “Anything perishable?”
“All of it.” Including our relationship if we can’t figure out how to be on the opposite sides of an issue.
He placed the entire bag in the refrigerator.
“Uh … ice cream.”
“Sí. Sí.” He tossed the carton in the freezer. “Let’s go into the living room.”
“First, tell me, are you registered for classes?” He gestured for her to take the seat next to him on the couch.
She chose the armchair instead. “Yes. In fact, I’ve started them already. Two more classes for a sociology degree, and an English composition class.”
“No business?”
“No.”
“Then you’ve made a choice.”
“Sí,” she said, wondering how many more delaying tactics would be needed before they got to the heart of their disagreement.
She looked at him but didn’t say anything, waiting.
“I’ve thought a lot about what you said, about seeing both sides of the issue.” He paused. “After Juan … died, I di
dn’t think I could go through with it. Men like Joe Wilson were the ones who wanted all immigrants to go home.”
Her spirits dropped.
“I prayed very hard for wisdom.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I needed to know the right thing to do—for you and for our people. One night, as I was watching a news program, I realized that all people were doing was shouting at each other. No one was listening.”
Maybe …?
“I decided the first person I need to listen to is myself.” He leaned forward. “I haven’t changed my stance, Alicia. I think Wilson’s law is a bad one. I need you to understand that.”
Did she need him to agree with her? Would she want him—or any man—to try to force her to agree with him?
She nodded, unsure of the right words to say.
“But I want you to know I heard you, too. I know two people won’t always agree, no matter how much they care for each other.” He reached out his hand. “Cariño, would you please come sit by me to talk? I want to be near you, to feel like there might be a possibility between us.”
She moved to the couch but didn’t sit too close.
“Thank you.” His dark eyes were earnest. “I told you I would contact Joe Wilson, and I did. At first, he wouldn’t talk to me.”
“Well, you did treat him rudely the last time you met.” She smiled, hoping to take the sting from her words.
“I’m not always known for my tact,” he said. “But, I persevered. I apologized and told him I’d looked into his son’s death. I think that got his attention.”
She nodded. It couldn’t have been easy to swallow his pride. And he’d done it for her. She took his hand, keeping her gaze on his face.
“We met. I listened to him. He gave me the same respect.” He cocked his head. “We didn’t agree, but we both understood each other.”
“That’s all someone can ask.” She squeezed his hand.
“It gets better.” His smile lit up his face. “We’re going to meet again after the vote to see if we can find common ground. The one thing we both agree, is this problem needs to be fixed. It’s not fair to anyone.”
She nodded, a question still lingering in her heart.
“I couldn’t have done this without you,” he said. “You have so much strength and courage—to find the right answers for your son, to face down his father, and to confront me when you believed I was wrong. I can be a better man with you by my side.”
“So you want to keep seeing each other?”
“Oh, yes. That and more. Much, much more. Are you willing to continue to discover everything we have to offer each other?”
“Sí.” She hesitated. She knew her heart, but it didn’t feel right to be the first one to say it. That he would work so hard to earn her trust, in spite of his brother’s death, showed her how much she meant to him.
“It’s almost like you see into the center of my soul, and you love me for who I really am,” he said. “You do love me, don’t you, Alicia?”
“Sí. Te quiero pase lo que pase.”
I love you no matter what happens. She’d committed her heart.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Oh, cariño, I love you,” he whispered, before scattering more kisses across her face.
A moan escaped her. She wanted this. She wanted him. Now.
With her hands, she let him know her desire—encouraging him, rubbing her hands against him, up and under his shirt, concentrating on the strength of his back.
“We shouldn’t,” he said.
“I’m ready.” She looked up at him. “Aren’t you?”
“Sí, but ...”
“Do you have protection?”
He nodded.
She smiled.
He lowered his head again and claimed her mouth as his.
• • •
Alicia was springtime, a balm for all the ills in his life. Even the ache from Juan’s death had ebbed a little.
Raúl propped himself on his elbow. She was smiling up at him, her arm flung on the pillow, the mound of her breast half-hidden by the sheet. His libido stirred, ready to explore and enjoy, more slowly this time. He touched her lips with his finger. “Te amo, Alicia.”
“I love you, too.” Her eyes were large and luminous; he could trust his soul with her.
He kissed her again, making sure he tasted her essence with this tongue.
She groaned but pushed against his shoulders. “Salmon,” she mumbled.
Fish? She thought he tasted like fish?
His expression must have communicated his dismay, because she laughed. “Dinner. It’s in the bag in the refrigerator ... we should … um, eat it ...” Her face turned an appealing shade of pink.
“Ah. Are you sure we don’t have time for ...” He traced his finger from the corner of her mouth to the top of her breast.
“Yes.” Her voice was firm, as if she’d recovered command of her senses, but her look was gentle. “I need to get home to Luis. We should eat first.”
She was probably right, but he didn’t want to see her go. He caressed her other cheek, and her smile deepened, but the rest of her expression remained firm.
When his love made up her mind, the course was determined.
He laughed. She was never going to let him get off easy, which made her perfect for him.
He rose from the bed and pulled on his pants and shirt. Alicia slipped from the bed on the other side and slipped on her lingerie. Her skirt and blouse were on a chair where he’d laid them after stripping them from her.
He sensed her waiting for him to leave the room before she finished getting dressed. Instead, he picked up her clothes and crossed to her. “None of this,” he said. “You are beautiful, and I love you. There will be no shame between us. Ever. Only joy.” He lifted her chin and sealed his words on her lips.
She nodded, took the clothes, and finished dressing.
They cooked in shy silence, physical awareness in every gesture. When they sat down, grace was automatic but heartfelt. He was thanking God not only for his meal, but for the woman beside him and a good life in front of him.
• • •
Two weeks later, Raúl sat with Alicia in front of the television screen, Chinese food in hand, waiting for the returns. Warmth filled his heart. Even though she didn’t agree with his stance, she supported him in his effort.
The measure seesawed back and forth—for and against. Once the decisions on the elected officials were finalized, information trickled away.
His spirits sank. Would they need to wait until morning?
“I’m afraid after the news, I need to go home. I’ve got a morning class and a shift at the spa.”
“Well, then let’s hope they let us know.”
It felt like he held his breath for the next twenty minutes. And then five more. Then another five. As they went to a commercial, the upcoming stories were about the weather and sports.
Alicia started to gather her things. “Sorry.”
“Wait until the very end. Please.”
“Okay.”
The commercial wrapped up.
“Coming up,” the commentator droned, “weather with Brett Carlson. But first, one more election result. The town of Watsonville has defeated Proposition 7, the one sponsored by Joe Wilson to restrict access to health care and education. It’s quite an upset for Wilson. We have a brief statement from him.”
The screen flipped to Joe Wilson sitting in front of the local hospital. “This is where my son died. He wasn’t treated because the team of doctors felt there was someone who needed care before my child. That person was illegal. I believed then that my son had died only because of an illegal immigrant.
“But a very brave man, Raúl Mendez, came to see me. He’s a doctor and explained why the emergency room team made the call they did. If that illegal person hadn’t been in the hospital, would my son have died?” He looked at the palms of his hands. “I don’t know.” He looked at the camera. “But I do know this. Somethi
ng must change. As a country, we can’t go on the way we are.”
His smile was slow but sincere. “That’s why Dr. Mendez and I have agreed to work together to come up with a new bill that will ensure safety for both our peoples.”
“And now, on to the weather,” the announcer said.
Raúl clicked the sound off. “We won. Madre de Dios, we won.”
“You won more than this vote,” Alicia said. “You did something very few people could do. I’m so proud to be with you.”
With her words, the last of the agony he’d carried since his parents had been deported left his soul. She was his light, life, and future.
Chapter 26
“You are beautiful.” Her mother tucked a stray hair behind the mantilla draped on the high peineta perched on Alicia’s head.
Inspired by the wedding of Raúl’s brother, Jorge, she’d opted for the more traditional wedding dress of her people. There would be no hiding what she was—a Hispanic-American—ever in her life.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked for probably the fifteenth time. “You are still so young.”
“Yes, mother, I am sure.” She was more in love than she’d been when she accepted Raúl’s proposal. Their trip to Mexico to meet Raúl’s family had drawn them closer together and helped him get past his fear of being able to get back into the United States with no problem. He’d spent the intervening months doing whatever it took to prove to her he would be a good husband and father to Luis.
A good father to all their children. She touched her belly. They’d gotten the results a few days ago. Soon, they’d announce the news, but for today, they wanted everyone’s attention on the wedding.
Weddings.
“How are you and Elizabeth doing?” she asked.
“We’re good. We made our peace a while ago for the sake of our daughters. Just as you will do what you need to do for your children.” She touched Alicia’s stomach. “All of your children.”
“You know?”
“It’s hard not to know when you and Raúl walk around with foolish grins on your faces, and when you touch your stomach and smile every fifteen minutes.”
She’d been that obvious.
“Will anyone else know?”