Juanita was shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone. Dad took it gently from her. He spoke softly but intently. “How can they hold her? She’s a citizen.”
The lawyer cleared her throat. “She’s accused of identity theft and attempting to enter the US fraudulently. Apparently Immigration believes she’s Juanita. They recorded Carmen reentering the country this morning from her cruise.”
Juanita balled her fists. “Shit.”
Mom lost her stricken look for a moment to frown at Juanita. Then it returned and she turned back to the phone. “But they’ll be able to prove she’s really Carmen, won’t they? They can use fingerprints or DNA or dental records, yes?”
“Yes, that part should be fairly easy. The difficulty will come after they accept her identity. Then they’ll realize that someone else must have taken her place in Galveston.” Ms. Blackwood took another deep breath. “You have to understand, conspiring to smuggle a non-citizen into the country is a federal offense. If the authorities become convinced that Carmen knowingly allowed someone else to impersonate her, they’ll prosecute her. If convicted, she could go to prison for as long as twenty years.”
Juanita struggled to breathe. Her worst fears had come true. She’d known something like this would happen. Why hadn’t she shut Carmen down the minute she’d suggested her scheme? Why hadn’t she worked harder to convince her not to pursue it? Why hadn’t she stayed in Mexico City and never gone to Cozumel? Why hadn’t she walked out of that hotel room, gotten back on the bus, and returned to her lonely apartment to stay?
But she hadn’t. She’d been too selfish, too needy, too afraid. She’d known in her heart it would never work, but she’d let her sister’s persuasion drown out her instincts. She’d listened to Carmen’s blithe assurances that everything would be okay because she’d wanted so badly to believe them. She’d allowed Carmen to pressure her into walking aboard that ship, even though she knew it was wrong. Now Carmen was going to pay the price for Juanita’s weakness.
And not only Carmen. Ice flooded Juanita’s body. It wouldn’t take Immigration long to find out who’d been with Juanita on the cruise. They’d realize he must have been in on the deception. They would burst into Ryan’s apartment and put him in handcuffs and take him to jail. He’d be tried and convicted, because he was guilty, and there was plenty of evidence to prove it. He’d spend years in prison, locked in a cold, bare cell. Because Juanita had taken advantage of his kindness, his generosity, his willingness to help a stranger, Ryan’s life would be ruined.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Her racing heart slowed and her shallow breaths deepened. She thought about what she must do. Mom and Dad were still deep in conversation with Ms. Blackwood, hashing over every possible strategy she planned to use in Carmen’s defense. Juanita listened carefully. Despite the lawyer’s upbeat words, a grim undertone in her voice told Juanita that nothing she was suggesting would do more than delay the inevitable. Carmen, too, was guilty. Only Juanita had the ability to save her.
After many repeated reassurances that she’d do everything possible and report frequently on her progress, Ms. Blackburn ended the call. Mom and Dad stared at each other in silence, grief-stricken and guilty. This must be how they’d looked when they’d learned Juanita had been arrested. It hurt her to know they blamed themselves. Maybe this predicament originated with them, but Juanita was an adult now. It had become her responsibility.
Eventually Mom struggled to rise. Juanita waved Amanda away and helped Mom back to bed herself, telling Amanda to take a break. The nurse was sympathetic, but she wasn’t a part of their private family troubles. Juanita wanted to spend every precious moment she could with her mother.
She tucked the covers around Mom the way Mom had done for her when she was a child. Then she pulled over a chair and sat holding her hand. For a long time they reminisced about the past: Juanita and Carmen’s childhood, the fun they’d had together, the mischief they’d gotten into. Mom told a few stories Juanita had never heard. Juanita confessed a few things she’d never admitted. The hour grew late, and Mom’s eyes grew heavy. Juanita leaned down to kiss her goodnight.
As she rose to leave, Mom caught her hand. “You mustn’t blame yourself. Carmen chose to go after you.”
“I know.” Juanita hesitated. Finally she said, “You know, Mom, Mexico wasn’t that bad. I think I could learn to like it there eventually.”
Mom gave her a long, searching look. She nodded slowly. “I loved my home. It broke my heart to leave. But we had no other way to give you the future you deserved.”
“I’m glad you came here. This is a wonderful country. I’ll always consider myself an American.” Juanita squeezed her hand. “But it’s not the only good place in the world.”
Mom closed her eyes and sighed, deep lines etching her face. “I know.” She opened them again and regarded Juanita with pride and sorrow. “I’m so glad I got to see you again.”
“So am I.” Juanita gently freed her hand and smoothed it across her mother’s forehead. “Goodnight, Mom.”
“Goodnight.” Mom closed her eyes. Juanita slipped out of the bedroom, switched off the lights, and closed the door.
She breathed hard for a moment, then walked to the living room with purposeful steps. Dad was sitting in his recliner, the remote in his hand, switching between TV stations without settling for more than a few seconds on any of them. Juanita bent to give him a hug. “Dad, do you have Ms. Blackburn’s number? I want to call her back. I’ve got a few questions, and there are a couple of things I forgot to say that I should probably tell her.”
He dug his phone from his pocket. “She’s in my list of contacts.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Juanita accepted the phone and took it to her bedroom. They’d moved to this house while she was in high school, and Mom and Dad had redecorated and turned her room into a guest room after she’d left for college, so the memories it held were muted. But it still felt more like home than anywhere Juanita had lived since.
She sat on the bed and flipped through Dad’s contacts until she found the lawyer’s number. Her heart thudded as she listened to the phone ring, but when Ms. Blackburn answered, Juanita’s voice was steady. “Hello, Ms. Blackburn? This is Juanita Gomez. I need to talk to you.”
The lawyer’s voice was wary but cordial. “I should warn you, since you’re not formally my client, I’ll have to report anything you tell me to the authorities if they question me. So you shouldn’t say where you are or how you got there.”
“I understand. Um, how do I become your client?”
“For now, it’s sufficient that you express the intent to hire me. You can come in later and sign the paperwork and arrange for payment.”
“Okay.” Juanita hoped the amount remaining in her bank account was enough to cover the lawyer’s fee. It shouldn’t be terribly large, since Juanita would only need her for a short time. “I want to hire you.”
“I accept. Now anything you tell me is covered by attorney-client privilege. It will remain confidential unless you tell me you plan to harm yourself or someone else.”
“No, nothing like that.” Juanita took a deep breath. “I want to turn myself in.”
Ms. Blackburn’s voice remained carefully neutral. “Are you sure? You’ll be deported again.”
“I know. And I am sure. But I need you to negotiate a deal with Immigration. In exchange for me coming in, they have to drop all charges against Carmen and Ryan.”
“Ryan?” Ms. Blackburn asked.
“Ryan Hertz. One of Carmen’s coworkers. He helped Carmen smuggle me back into the US.”
“I see.” Juanita heard movement on the other end of the connection. “I don’t know whether what you’re asking is possible, but we can try. I’ll start making inquiries as soon as we’re done. Right now, though, I need you to tell me everything in as much detail as you can remember. Starting with your arrest.”
“Okay.” Juanita shifted her grip on the phone and launched into
the story. It was easier to tell this time than when she’d shared it with Ryan. She continued, recounting her efforts to settle into life in Mexico, the news of Mom’s relapse, and Carmen’s first call proposing her plan. Ms. Blackburn listened with patient attentiveness, occasionally asking clarifying questions.
Juanita tried to keep her tone unemotional, but when she got to the part where Ryan entered the story, it became harder. Sometimes her voice grew tender, while other times she came close to tears. When she got to Wednesday night, she stumbled to a halt, flustered. “And then we, I mean, um…”
“You became sexually intimate?” Ms. Blackburn’s voice was blessedly neutral.
“Yes.” Juanita flushed. “Do you want me to, um…”
“No personal details are necessary, as long as the relationship was consensual.”
“It was.” Juanita’s flush deepened as she remembered.
“Then go on with the next day.”
Juanita complied gratefully. It didn’t take long to cover the events of the cruise. She described their uneventful arrival in Galveston that morning. “We drove to my parent’s house and had lunch. Ryan left to go home around four. And then you called after supper.”
The sound of a scratching pen continued for a moment, then Ms. Blackburn said, “Thank you, Juanita. Just one more question. Mr. Hertz doesn’t yet know that your sister is being held?”
“No. Although he probably suspects, since he hasn’t heard from us.” Juanita swallowed. “Can we wait to tell him until everything’s over? Until I’m back in Mexico? Otherwise he’ll try to talk me out of it.”
“Since he’s not yet been accused of a crime, that should be possible, assuming things go quickly. I hope we can get this settled on Monday.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Ms. Blackburn’s voice softened. “I know this is very difficult for you, Juanita. But I want you to know that I think you’re doing a very brave thing. Your sister and Mr. Hertz will owe you their freedom. I’ll make sure they understand that.”
Juanita shrugged, even though Ms. Blackburn couldn’t see. “It’s not their fault it didn’t work. I can’t let them suffer for my sake. Especially because they would go to prison, while I’ll be free in Mexico. That makes the choice pretty easy.”
“Not everyone would see it that way.” She resumed a businesslike tone. “All right. Plan to come into my office on Monday around one. That should give me enough time to arrange a meeting with Immigration. I’ll draw up some documents that will protect you, Carmen, and Mr. Hertz. Once everyone signs, Immigration will probably escort you straight to the airport. So pack a small suitcase and bring it with you. Your family can ship you the rest of your belongings.”
“Perfect.” Peace settled over Juanita. “You won’t say anything about this to my parents, will you? They won’t like it. It will be better if they only find out after it’s done.”
“Not a word,” Ms. Blackburn promised.
They arranged for Juanita to call back at regular times the next day. Then they said goodnight and hung up.
Without letting herself think, Juanita flipped over to Dad’s messaging app and composed a text to Ryan. Heard from Carmen. Everything’s okay. She stabbed send.
A moment later the reply came. Thanks for telling me. Bye.
Tears blurred Juanita’s vision so she could barely type. Bye.
She sat staring at the phone in her hands. It was done. Ms. Blackburn would take care of everything. Carmen and Ryan would be cleared. Juanita would spend all day tomorrow with Mom and Dad. Then on Monday, she’d tell them goodbye forever.
From now on, Mexico would be her home. The souvenir shop would hire her back, or she’d get a different job. If her apartment had been rented, she’d find another. She’d look into the requirements for practicing as an occupational therapist in Mexico, once she was fluent enough in Spanish. She would have a good life, and so would Carmen and Ryan. It would be as if the whole doomed attempt to bring her home had never happened.
Except Juanita would have the memory of those few brief, precious days with Ryan. She couldn’t be sorry about that. She wouldn’t trade them for anything, not even relief from the ache that would always haunt her heart. The pain was a small price to pay for the joy they’d shared.
She only hoped Ryan felt the same way.
CHAPTER 19
Ryan’s legs felt like rubber. His pulse beat so loud in his ears it nearly drowned out the sound of his knuckles rapping on the door.
He’d planned so long and worked so hard and sacrificed so much for this moment. A thousand times he’d questioned whether he’d made the right decision. Up until last week he could have canceled the whole thing with a few phone calls. He still could, although it would take a little more effort. Doubts and fears had tormented him the whole time he was making plans and arrangements. The few people he’d confided in had told him that what he was doing was crazy, stupid, foolish. They’d advised him to forget about it and get on with his life.
But a thousand times he’d pushed all that aside and gone on researching and making calls and filling out forms. Everything had come together more smoothly than he’d dared hope. Now here he was. In a moment he’d find out if it had all been worth it, or if he’d made a terrible mistake.
He heard the scrape and click of a lock turning. The door swung open.
Ryan extended the bouquet of sunflowers he’d bought in the market on the way. “Hola, Juanita.”
She stared at him, mouth agape, eyes wide and round. The longer she stood frozen, the lower Ryan’s stomach sank, until it puddled in his shoes. This wasn’t the reaction he’d dreamed about.
He shouldn’t have come. He definitely shouldn’t have surprised her. He should have gotten in touch first and asked if she had any interest in seeing him again. Better yet, he should have left her alone the way she’d insisted she wanted. Now all he could do was try to control the damage.
Ryan stepped back, dropping the flowers to his side. “I’m sorry. I—”
Juanita hurtled forward and threw her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his chest. “Ryan! What the hell are you doing here?”
He wrapped his arms around her, not caring if the flowers got crushed, only aware of the incredible sweetness of her body against his. “I wanted to see you.”
She didn’t let go. “How did you find me? I’ve moved twice since I got back.”
“I pestered Carmen until she gave in and told me your address. This is a nice place.”
She finally loosened her grip and moved back, though she kept her hands on his shoulders. “It is, isn’t it? When I got my job at the clinic, I splurged a little. My salary covers the rent pretty comfortably.”
“Carmen told me you were working in your field again. Congratulations.”
She beamed at him. “Occupational therapy is still pretty new here, so they were happy to get me.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him over the threshold. “Come in. Have a seat. Can I get you something, a Coke, maybe? It’s the good kind with cane sugar instead of corn syrup.”
“That would be great.” He followed her into the small, sunny living room. “Do you have something I can put these in?”
She looked back at him with an expression he couldn’t read. It was happy, but layered with all sorts of other emotions as well. “On the shelf.”
He looked where she gestured and swallowed. The vase they’d bought in Roatan sat among a few other decorative items on top of a crowded bookshelf. He went to get it without comment and took it into the kitchen.
Juanita bustled around, pulling glasses from a cabinet and filling them with ice. “Don’t worry, I’ve got an anti-bacterial filter on my ice maker, and on the sink, too. And in the bathroom. I got tired of brushing my teeth with bottled water. There are enough gringos living here that there are businesses who cater to our needs.”
Ryan filled the vase with water and arranged the flowers in it. Their vibrant yellow nicely complemented the earth tones of the
glaze. “That’s good to know.”
She used a bottle opener to pop the cap off the Coke and split it between the two ice-filled tumblers. Ryan’s throat caught when he saw the thick handblown glass with cobalt-blue rims. “They match my shot glass.”
“I remember.” Juanita handed him one. “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” She set the vase in the center of a round table in a cozy breakfast nook, then took her drink and perched in one of the chairs.
Ryan sat in the other and sipped the crisp, fizzy soda. “It’s great to see you doing so well.”
She shrugged. “I get by.”
“Carmen said you’ve made some friends?”
Her face brightened. “I joined a great study group while I was taking Spanish lessons. Several other American expats, as well as people from Europe and Africa and Australia. We still get together all the time. And I found a church where the people are really nice. My Spanish is pretty good now. The kids I work with aren’t shy about correcting my grammar and critiquing my accent.”
“That’s great.” Ryan swirled his glass, watching the bubbles rise and pop. Carefully, he said, “Met any guys?”
Juanita shrugged. Just as carefully, she said, “A few. No one special, though.” She eyed him with what Ryan dared hope was hope. “What about you? Got a girlfriend at the moment?”
“No.” He was almost certain he saw relief on her face before she looked away. His heart soared. “You’re a hard act to follow.”
She gave a strangled laugh. “So are you.” She sipped her Coke, then set down the glass and knotted her hands together. “How long are you staying? Because since neither of us are involved with anyone else right now, I would really like to spend as much time with you as I can while you’re in the city.” Her face reddened, but she looked directly at him. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
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