A Greater Love

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Daniel had already considered that. “Can you give me a little time? As a friend? Both children are under a doctor’s care, recovering from exposure. It’s sort of my fault. And I—I haven’t told them about my relationship with their father.”

  “Sure thing, old buddy.” António’s voice was rough with sympathy.

  “Thanks. Let me know what you find out, huh?”

  “I will.”

  Daniel hung up the phone as Sara wandered into the kitchen, draped in his robe, which trailed out behind her. She reminded him of the shepherds in the nativity display. “Is Miguel ever gonna wake up?” she asked. “He’s been sleepin’ practically all day.”

  “So did you yesterday,” he said, taking her onto his lap. “He’ll probably sleep for a few more.”

  She rested her head on his chest. “Thank you for findin’ him.”

  Daniel’s arms tightened around her. He felt her trust and silently vowed to do anything to avoid breaking her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For a long time, Miguel lived in a haze. Occasionally, he heard voices, saw Sara’s face, or felt Lucky’s rough tongue. He couldn’t tell if these things were real or if they existed only in his dreams. Was he dead? It certainly seemed foggy enough to match his idea of the afterlife.

  Cristina was also in his . . . dream?—continually soothing his brow or bringing a spoon to his lips. The food tasted wonderful, so Miguel wasn’t really worried. If he was dead, he must have somehow made it to heaven, though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

  If this wasn’t a dream, where was Daniel? Several times Miguel thought he saw him hovering near and twice he heard his voice, loud and desperate. That part made Miguel never want to leave the haze at all.

  But eventually it faded away, and when Miguel awoke the next time, he felt almost as good as he ever had. He searched the unfamiliar room with his eyes, then slid shakily out of the bed and wobbled to the door. His knees were weak but he drove himself on. He saw the entryway and recognized where he was: Daniel’s apartment. A lump formed in his throat. Daniel had come for him, after all. That part hadn’t been a dream.

  Noise came from the television set, and he turned to see Daniel and Cristina on the couch. Their hands were linked and Cristina’s head was on Daniel’s shoulder. Sara sat next to Cristina, cuddled up close to her. Everyone looked warm and happy. The lump in Miguel’s throat was suddenly too large to swallow. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been part of such a loving scene, yet it was inexplicably familiar. Almost remembered.

  Almost. He teetered and leaned against the wall, feeling an ache in his body that had nothing to do with his illness.

  “Miguel!” Sara saw him, her pretty face dimpling. When had she gained weight? How long had he been sleeping in that bed?

  Sara and Cristina came quickly toward him, with Daniel following behind. Miguel was good at reading faces, and he thought Daniel didn’t appear exactly happy to see him up and awake. The confusing, desperate words Miguel had heard Daniel speak somewhere in the fog came back forcefully, reminding him that he needed to tread very carefully where this man was concerned.

  “How’re you feeling?” Cristina asked him brightly. She seemed more beautiful than Miguel remembered. Happy. Yet as she glanced at Daniel, something odd lurked in her eyes. A reservation of some sort. Did it involve Miguel? Was it connected to the unhappiness he sensed in Daniel?

  “Just need to use the bathroom,” he mumbled, not knowing what sort of answer Cristina expected. He paused in the bathroom doorway. “What day is it?”

  “Monday,” Sara said. “You’ve been sleepin’ for four days, countin’ today. It’s almost Christmas! Daniel said we’re gonna get a tree and we can put a shoe under it for Father Christmas to fill with treats and presents. Isn’t that funny? I never knew we could do that. Daniel says I can have one of his shoes ’cause they’re bigger and I’ll get more stuff.” She giggled.

  Miguel nodded numbly and quickly shut the door. His sister’s words made his heart ache. He seemed to remember that he had once put a shoe under a tree, a big one that also wasn’t his. For a long time Miguel sat in the bathroom and cried.

  Two more days passed before Cristina was convinced he was well enough to leave his bed for anything besides a short trip to the bathroom. Then she took him to the doctor, who seemed amazed at his quick recovery.

  “Don’t let him out in the cold too much,” he warned Cristina. “And make sure he rests a lot. Kids tend to overdo things after they’ve been sick so long.”

  On the way home, Cristina stopped at a store to let him pick out a few presents for Sara and Daniel. For Sara, Miguel chose a thick pair of hose, a thermal undershirt, and a pair of boots. Cristina pointed out a baby doll, a set of Legos, and a princess costume, but Miguel was adamant. Cristina pursed her lips and said nothing. She bought all of the items he wanted, but he saw her slip in the toys as well.

  In another aisle, Miguel chose a model ship that needed gluing together for Daniel. “He’ll like that,” Cristina assured him.

  “What about for you?” he asked. She looked pleased and handed him some money.

  “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  He immediately picked out a book that had caught her eye earlier. She had told him it held some of her favorite poems. Later, he would carefully copy the name and save it so that when he learned to read, he would be able to find the book for himself to see why Cristina liked it so well.

  That night his fragile peace was shattered when he heard Daniel and Cristina arguing. Since he felt so much better they had moved him to a cot in the television room and reclaimed their bedroom. Miguel crept into the entryway to better hear what they were saying.

  “Look, do you see what he got for Sara?” Cristina said. “He’s acting like a practical old man.”

  “He’s only trying to take care of her.”

  “You have to tell him.”

  “I can’t,” Daniel’s voice was rough. “He’ll hate me. Sara will, too, but especially Miguel. How can I let him down again?”

  “You think you’re not letting him down by giving him false hope? Give him what he needs to make a choice about his future.”

  “Okay.” Daniel’s voice was soft but resolute. “You’re right.”

  “I thought we could take them for a ride on the boat. Just a short one to give them the feel. It’ll be a nice present for Christmas Eve.”

  “Should we, since he’s been so sick?”

  “He’ll be fine. We’ll keep him inside the cabin as much as possible with the stove going.” She paused. “You can tell him then.”

  “They always wanted to ride on a boat. I guess it’s only fitting before I ruin his life.” To Miguel, Daniel’s voice sounded ruthless.

  The voices droned on, but Miguel no longer heard. Of course, they weren’t going to keep him. They were only waiting for him to recover so they could hand him over to the orphanage. A coldness formed in his heart and tears in his eyes, but Miguel clenched his lips together. He didn’t cry, but began to plan.

  “But they like us,” Sara said when he talked to her about it early Thursday morning, the day before Christmas. “I know they do. They’re takin’ us on the boat and everything.”

  “I heard ’em talkin’ last night about breakin’ it to me, and it ain’t the first time. When I was sick, I heard ’em fightin’.” Her bright smile faded and he touched her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Sara. Now that we ain’t sick, I ain’t gonna let anyone tear us apart. We’re gonna be together for always.”

  “Can’t we at least wait until Father Christmas comes tonight?”

  “No, they’ll be expectin’ it after that. We gotta go today, when we’re at the dock.”

  “But we haven’t decorated the tree! It sounds like so much fun! It’s a real one.” She’d picked it out with Daniel the day before while Miguel was seeing the doctor. “He says Cristina had a fake one, but it don’t smell good as the one we found.”


  “I know, I know. You told me already. I wished we could stay. And you can if that’s what ya want. But they don’t want me. At least Daniel don’t.” He paused. “Don’t ya wanna be together for always?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. We gotta run before we get on the boat, or we won’t get to the Cruz de Pau and find Paulo’s cousin before it gets dark.” He hoped the family needed help on their farm, even in the winter.

  Cristina and Daniel came in then and they were quiet. “Why so sad?” Cristina asked. “I thought you wanted to ride on a boat.”

  “We do!” Sara exclaimed, jabbing his arm with her elbow. Miguel felt his sister’s pleading gaze, but he gave a single shake of his head.

  They drove in near silence to the dock. Several times Miguel caught Daniel staring at him in the rearview mirror. Stark pain marked the unnaturally pale face, and the black eyes reminded Miguel of a starless sky.

  Daniel must be the saddest person I know, Miguel thought. Why? He tried not to care, but for some reason he did.

  Before they reached the coast, Miguel clipped Lucky’s new leash onto his collar. Letting the puppy run would be easier than carrying him. Next, he checked his pockets. He had as much stuff as he could pack in them, including Sara’s new hose and the money he’d stolen that morning from a can in the kitchen cupboard. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them for at least week or two. He’d seen where Cristina kept the money, and though he felt guilty about taking it, he didn’t know what else to do. He told himself that when he was earning money of his own, he’d send it back to her.

  “You’re going to love the boat, kids,” Daniel said as he slid from the car. He and Cristina started down the long pier, lugging a picnic basket between them. Sara followed.

  Miguel grabbed Sara’s arm and pulled her back. She turned toward him, tears sliding down her face. “Bye, Cristina,” she whispered softly.

  “Hurry,” he told her.

  “Do we gotta?”

  “I know what I heard.”

  “Maybe ya heard wrong. When you was missin’, Daniel said somethin’ about me singin’ like Mamãe. He knew her! And yesterday, Cristina asked me if I wanna go to school. She said she’d take me every mornin’, but that I gotta walk home in the afternoon. Please, Miguel!”

  There was a shout behind them, and Miguel hesitated. Could it be they wanted to keep Sara? That it was only him they planned to send away? Maybe she should stay. They would be good to her, especially Cristina. He was being selfish by holding her back.

  “Stay then,” he said. “I’ll come see ya as soon as I can.”

  “No, Miguel!” Sara stumbled after him. “I wanna go with ya. Don’t leave me!” Miguel grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run. Lucky barked jubilantly, forging ahead as though playing a game.

  “Stop, Miguel! Stop!” Daniel ran after them. The few people around paused to stare curiously.

  With Sara tagging along and having been so sick, Miguel was no match for Daniel’s longer legs. The man ran abreast of them for a while before sprinting to the front and turning, arms open to block their passage.

  Miguel stopped short. He backed away, and Daniel followed, keeping the same space between them. Lucky stretched his neck to sniff at Daniel’s legs, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice. “Where are you going, Miguel?”

  “Away. Me and Sara got somewhere to go.”

  “Drop the tough act, Miguel. You don’t have anywhere to go and you know it. Besides, you’re still recovering. You aren’t strong enough to be on your own.”

  Miguel glared, but a part of him admitted that Daniel spoke the truth. “I won’t let ya take us to an orphanage.”

  “An orphanage?” Surprise filled Daniel’s face. “Where’d you get that idea? Oh, I know. That was the plan when we first found you, but that’s all changed now. Even before I knew who you were, I’d changed my mind about that.”

  Knew who I was? Miguel heard but didn’t understand. Had Sara been right? Had Daniel known his mother? Or maybe even his father? Another thought slipped in, unbidden. Was it my father’s shoe I put under the Christmas tree?

  “Let me go,” he said aloud. There was movement behind him and from the corner of his eye, Miguel caught a glimpse of Cristina. Sara was in her arms, clinging to her and crying.

  “I can outrun you,” Daniel said. “At least right now. But I don’t want to make you do anything. Can’t you just hear what I have to say? Then”—his voice choked—“if you don’t want to stay with us, that’s all right. I’ll find you another place with a family who’ll take care of you.”

  “What about Sara?”

  “She goes with you—you belong together—but not like this. Don’t you see? She might get sick again. You almost died yourself. Don’t let me have this on my conscience as well.”

  Miguel hovered with indecision. Part of him wanted to hear what Daniel had to say, the other was afraid. What did he mean when he said “before I knew who you were” or “if you don’t want to stay”?

  “Please, Miguel.” It was Cristina’s voice, not Sara’s, but it had the same pleading quality Sara’s had held when she’d asked to stay until Christmas was over. What should he do? The hopeful expression on Daniel’s pale face finally convinced him. How desperately he craved for Daniel to want him!

  “All right. I’ll listen.”

  “Come on, then.” Daniel didn’t walk too close to him, but Miguel sensed he was alert and ready to catch him if he ran.

  Alone, Miguel thought, I could make it. He glanced at Sara and rejected the idea.

  “I knew Manuel Silva, your father,” Daniel said, as if reading his thoughts. “We were friends.”

  Miguel jerked his head toward him in disbelief, but the name struck a chord within him. How much could Daniel tell him about the man he couldn’t remember?

  “I knew your mother, too. Ana Paula.”

  A tear leaked from Miguel’s left eye. Ana Paula! So that was his mother’s name. He had the card once more in his pocket, but Sara wouldn’t give him back the necklace or tell him where it was. Had she lost it? He knew she wasn’t wearing it, so she must have. The knowledge saddened him, but he’d been too sick to waste energy on more tears.

  They reached the boat, and Miguel stared at it with surprised delight. The small cabin craft floated easily on the water. The design was compact but had plenty of space for a young boy to explore and roam on the deck. Waves slapped gently at the sides, bringing a man’s face to his mind—dark hair, short beard, skin deeply tanned by the sun. Was that man his father?

  “Come aboard.”

  Miguel didn’t have to be asked twice. “Cool,” he muttered. In fact, it was the most wonderful boat he’d ever seen.

  “I bought her used and your father helped me rebuild her,” Daniel told him.

  “He did? But what’s her name? I didn’t see it painted on the hull.”

  Daniel grimaced. “The original name was worn away, and I never got around to naming her. Everyone calls her No Name.”

  Miguel frowned. That wasn’t any kind of a name for a boat this exceptional.

  Sara was busy investigating the boat, and Miguel wished he could join her. Still there was more he had to learn. “How’d you know my father?” he asked, faking an arrogance he didn’t feel. “Why didn’t ya tell me before?”

  Daniel’s face turned gray. “Those are fair questions. Come on, let’s go inside the cabin. There’s a stove there that’ll warm us right up.”

  Cristina and Sara followed them inside. The cabin was full of old things hanging on the walls and Miguel stared about curiously. He especially liked the old-time map pinned over the wooden bench.

  Cristina set a match to the tinder already laid in the old black stove. She sat next to Daniel on the bench, with Sara between them, but Miguel wanted to face their explanations standing on his own two feet. Lucky watched him lazily from where he sprawled by the stove.

  “It wasn’t until I saw the ship on Sara’s necklace that
I realized I knew your father. You see, we had the name of our ship engraved on the charms when we bought them. It was The Santa Maria. I know Manuel gave his to your mother.” Daniel sighed. “She was a beautiful woman and they were very much in love.”

  Miguel snorted. “Then why’d he go away and let her die?” He was determined to hate the man for not having the time to be his father, but more especially for leaving his mother all alone.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Daniel said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He loved you and your mother, but he died. He was killed before Sara was even born.”

  Shock reeled through Miguel. And gladness. He didn’t have to hate his father! He hadn’t left them after all!

  “He loved you,” Daniel continued. “You should have seen his face when he told me Ana Paula was expecting you. He was so thrilled that his feet hardly touched the ground for months. He talked about how he was going to build a boat and give it to you one day. And Ana Paula, why, the times I saw you with her, she wouldn’t let anyone hold you, and certainly not someone as clumsy as me. You weren’t more than a baby.”

  A warmth sprang up inside Miguel. He’d known his mother loved him, but his father had loved him, too. Had wanted him!

  “When your father died, Ana Paula must have gone to live with his sister because of money problems.”

  Things were beginning to make sense to Miguel. “Octávia?”

  Daniel nodded. “I believe she loved you, too. From what Sara tells me, your life with her wasn’t easy, but there are reasons why stuff happens. I checked the records, and I found out that your aunt had a baby that died before you were born. Maybe it was then she began to drink. I’m not sure—I can only guess. I think that when the time came for her to take care of you, she was already so addicted to alcohol that she couldn’t pull herself out.”

  “She done the best she knew how,” Miguel said, coming to Octávia’s defense. Hadn’t Senhor Fitas told him that same thing?

  “Exactly. That doesn’t excuse all the bad things, but it does make them easier to understand. I hope knowing about your parents makes it easier still. You were very lucky to have Ana Paula and Manuel for parents. They were wonderful people. They loved you so much. I wish . . .” His voice drained away, but Cristina took up the slack.