Redemption (Reunion Book 1)

by Adrienne Ruvalcaba

“You found me,” she giggled on the other end of the line.

  “Hi, Beatrice. I’m sorry to call you so late on a weeknight, but—”

  “Don’t you dare be sorry,” she interrupted. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you again. Your mother told me all about how busy you’ve been now that you’re the mayor of Bay City.”

  “Yes. I am often busy,” he agreed with a chuckle.

  “You don’t have to worry about driving up to Galveston to meet me. I already told your mother that I’m more than happy to come down there. I understand that you have a lot of responsibilities on your plate. How does this weekend look for you?” she asked.

  “Actually, Beatrice, I called to tell you that I don’t think we should plan on meeting each other. I know our mothers probably got together like a couple of matchmakers and decided how many kids we should have before asking us,” he said as he strived to keep his tone light and relaxed.

  There was silence on the other end of the line, and he expected the call to go dead at any moment. She surprised him by releasing a quiet chuckle. “So, you don’t remember me,” she stated with a touch of regret in her voice.

  “Am I supposed to?” he asked quietly.

  “Considering the fact that we made out at your parents’ last big party, I think you should remember me. I gave you my number, and you said you’d call, but you never did. I always thought it was because you misplaced my number,” she answered.

  Diego searched his mind trying to remember her, but he came up blank. “How long ago was that?” he asked.

  “It was their spring party a few years ago,” she reminded him.

  Suddenly, his inability to remember Beatrice made perfect sense. That party had taken place only a couple of days before his run in with Delilah. He remembered being attracted to Beatrice now. Funny how running into Delilah had chased thoughts of all other women out of his head. “I remember you now. I’m really sorry I didn’t call you back. I think I did lose your number,” he fibbed as feelings of guilt began to surface.

  “I forgive you,” she said.

  Telling a woman you’d call her and then never doing so was just the sort of behavior his father frowned upon. It was also the sort of thing that would make Delilah give him that look he remembered so well from the first time he saw her their freshman year of high school—the look that said he was immature. He cleared his throat and said, “I was attracted to you, and I would have called you if I hadn’t lost your number, but things are different now. I don’t know what my mother has said about my current situation, but I’m not in a position to date right now. I have too much on my plate at city hall. I just called to let you know that I appreciate your willingness to give me a shot, but I have to focus on work right now. I’m sorry my mother bugged you and led you to believe things were different with me,” he said quietly.

  There was another long, tense silence, but she finally sighed and said, “I understand. It was nice talking to you, Diego.”

  After he hung up, Diego climbed into bed, where he spent a large portion of the night tossing and turning.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  An hour into the Caring Corps meeting, Diego shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There seemed to be more grievances than usual at today’s meeting.

  Reverend White spoke up again for seemingly the hundredth time, cutting off someone else midsentence. “I think the problem is that these young people nowadays don’t have any respect for authority or for the Lord,” he said. His comment garnered a few amens from the other people gathered around the conference table. “Back when I was young, we had more respect for pastors. We addressed them by their proper titles and listened when they tried to give us some wisdom,” he continued.

  Diego fought the urge to slouch down in his seat. This meeting was supposed to focus on team building and finding solutions to some of Bay City’s most pressing social issues, but, as expected, only complaints about youth and millennials had been presented so far. As a part of the generation that every person in the room seemed to find at fault for their problems, Diego had to let a lot of negativity role off his back to keep the meeting moving forward.

  “The other day, my next door neighbor had her music turned up loud all night. Why isn’t there any enforcement of the noise ordinance?” one of the women on the far side of the table demanded.

  At that point, the police chief spoke up with, “Ma’am, did you call the non-emergency line to make a complaint?”

  “Well, no. I thought she ought to have known better,” the woman scoffed with a frown in his direction. “Young people these days…”

  Diego tuned out again as the words ‘millennials’ and ‘protestors’ were bandied about for the next few minutes. He abandoned any hope of refocusing the meeting in a more positive direction. He was the youngest person in the room, and he felt their disappointment in almost every statement or glance directed at him. He would bet his house that not one of them had voted for him.

  Following a brief lull in the meeting, his secretary Edna looked toward somebody seated behind him and asked, “Did you have something to add, ma’am?”

  Diego turned just in time to see Delilah stand up and smile at everyone, commanding the immediate attention of the borderline hostile room. She wore a simple cream colored dress, and her hair was styled in a ponytail. As he watched, her normally soft voice rang out in the now captivated room.

  “I couldn’t help but notice the number of comments directed at the younger generations, or the millennials, as some of you call us. Some of you see the all the recent protests as a purely negative thing, but there are many in this community who can see the positives associated with a population of youth and young adults who are willing and ready to engage. For years, I’ve consulted with community-based organizations and guided them through the process of applying for federal grant money. In just about any federal grant program that supports volunteer service, young people with energy to invest are considered a hot commodity. Where you see protestors and troublemakers, I see young people yearning to find a way to help make a change. They are passionate in their pursuit of justice, and they want to be engaged in actions that will result in direct changes to the community. In other words, they are hungry for civic engagement opportunities, but they find few of them here in this town. Clearly, the citizens of Bay City are interested in community action. Mayor Gonzales never would have been elected if people here didn’t care about social justice and community action. He wasn’t elected on government experience, he was elected because the work he did for social justice spoke for him, and it spoke volumes. I met with some of the protestors today, and all they want is to see the passion for justice that got Mayor Gonzales into office continue, so that it makes their neighborhoods better.

  “Today, I met with several program directors who believe wholeheartedly that the time for talking has passed, and the time for action is now. Has anyone in this room heard of Oscar Molina?” When nobody spoke up, she continued, “Oscar runs a program on the south side of town. He pairs up elderly drivers who need help grocery shopping with young drivers who have a learners’ permit and need practice. The elder drivers get a ride to the grocery store, company, and help with the groceries, and the younger drivers get some extra driving experience and the chance to help someone. Most of you haven’t heard of him because he doesn’t have any funding. Oscar is an example of a person who saw a need and asked himself what he could do to fill it.

  “Another person I met with was Jannetta Smalls. She lost her daughter to child abuse several years ago. Her ex is now in prison. She holds anti-violence rallies in the park every week during the summer, because she knows violence increases in the summer months. She provides a space for people who have lost loved ones to violence to express their grief and comfort each other. These people rallying in the park aren’t protestors; they are people like you who are looking for ways to make their community better. Even if they were protestors, peaceful demonstrations are the right of every citizen
in this country. When I first agreed to consult with the city, I was told that the focus of this meeting was to be proposed solutions to some of the cuts the state government has made to social programs. So far I have heard a lot of complaints about the group that gathers in the park, but how many of you have actually talked to Jannetta?”

  Diego watched in astonishment as everyone around the table shifted uncomfortably, as if Delilah was the teacher administering a scolding to a naughty class.

  “Who are you?” one of the clergy members asked Delilah.

  George Kitzar answered, “That’s Miss Delilah Johnson. She is a grant writer who is consulting with the city on a couple of important community projects. She helps non-profit organizations apply for grant money to fund their programs.”

  Pastor White started to applaud, and everyone else in the room followed suit. Delilah looked surprised for the briefest instant before taking her seat. Her cheeks held the slightest hint of a flush as their eyes met in the crowded room.

  “Maybe we should invite Miss Smalls and Mr. Molina to the next meeting. It sounds like they have some good ideas that could benefit a lot of people,” Pastor White said to Diego with his first smile of the day.

  After the meeting concluded, several people rushed to introduce themselves to Delilah. Diego was held back by questions, most of which were about Delilah, coming at him from every angle. The general reaction to Delilah was so positive, Diego was glad he wouldn’t have to run against her to be reelected. It took almost twenty minutes for the room to clear, and when Diego finally made it to Delilah’s side, he couldn’t think of anything to say to her.

  She smiled up at him, and he released a pent up breath. “Thank you,” he said fervently. “You really managed to turn that around.”

  “Yeah, they were being a little rough on you… I’m glad I was able to help out,” she said with another smile. “I have some interesting things to tell you about today,” continued as she placed her portfolio on the conference table and began pulling out papers. “Some of the program directors I met with today weren’t on the list you gave me. There are three programs that have no funding or official status, but what they are doing is so positive, I’ve come up with a plan of action to get them to where they can apply for funding and resources sometime this year. I met with a woman named Gabrielle Brooks today. She has been planting a community garden for more than five years now. She uses youth and teen volunteers to do all the work, she delivers fresh produce to the elderly, and she allows able bodied people to harvest their own.”

  Clearly she was still in work mode, so Diego stashed his personal feelings away for the time being. He owed it to her and the city to concentrate on the job at hand. “Okay, I don’t have anything else scheduled this evening, so you can tell me all about these additional programs right now if you want,” he said.

  “You’re going to be so excited about these,” she said as they sat down at the table.

  He spent the rest of the evening pouring over her notes and listening to her talk about people that he likely never would have heard of if not for her. The thought that they made an excellent team repeatedly crossed his mind, and he had to remind himself that she was leaving in a month.

  ***

  The following morning, Lilah awoke to her cell phone buzzing in her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Delilah, I hate to keep asking, but I need another favor from you today,” Diego said over the phone.

  Lilah sat up and rubbed her eyes as she asked, “What do you need? I have quite a few appointments lined up for today.”

  “At 8:00, I have a meeting with the superintendent, and at 9:00 I am going to meet with the principal of the high school. The principal only tolerates me, and the superintendent can’t stand me. I think the meetings might go better if you come along,” he replied.

  Lilah checked her watch. It wasn’t yet six a.m. Her first meeting of the day wasn’t until 9:30. “I’ll come,” she told him. “But, before the meetings, you’re going to have to explain to me why they don’t like you, what you hope to accomplish with them, and how you think I can help,” she added after a moment of silence.

  Diego sighed into the phone, “I meant to bring this up last night, but we stayed so late talking about the other meetings we have coming up; I forgot. I hope to get their support for a new program that I want to propose at the next city council meeting. I also want to pitch it to the Chamber of Commerce. In conjunction with raising the minimum wage, I also want to encourage local businesses to establish part time positions with the opportunity for full time employment upon graduation for high school students who are not planning to go on to college. I’m thinking of calling it Hometown Bound. According to the latest poverty report for Matagorda County, quite a few young people drop out and end up on welfare in their twenties. Since funding has been cut for food and cash assistance, I think it would be a good idea to start looking at ways we can decrease the number of people who finish high school and don’t immediately enter college or a job. According to the last school report, a lot of the students who drop out say they did so because they knew they weren’t going to college, so they figured finishing high school was a waste of their time. I think that with dedicated part time jobs for students in this category, they have more incentive to finish high school, especially if they know a full time position is waiting for them when they graduate.”

  “Diego, I love that idea,” Lilah said into the phone. In part, she could hardly believe she was talking to the same boy who had so frequently upset her in high school. Obviously, he was no longer that obnoxious teenaged boy; he was now a man with an impressive agenda. “I’ll come to whatever meeting you need help with tomorrow. Why doesn’t the superintendent like you?”

  “Come on, Lilah. I think you and I both know why the superintendent doesn’t like me. He was the principal when we were in high school. I don’t think he’s thrilled about losing the last mayoral election to a former student of his. Thanks for being willing to help me out again today. You have a knack for saying what needs to be said without putting people on the defensive. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re so pretty,” Diego said.

  A slow smile spread across Lilah’s face as her grip on the phone tightened just slightly. “I’m just happy I’m able to help out in some small way,” she said.

  When he spoke again, his voice washed over her like a warm ocean wave. “You’ve helped out in a big way. I’m actually glad I don’t have to run against you; you would probably beat me,” he said.

  “That’s quite a compliment,” she replied quietly.

  Several hours later, after the conclusion of both crucial meetings, Diego and Delilah walked down the halls of the high school. One their way to the door, the trophy case caught her eye, and she stopped in front of it.

  “Do you ever think about your old high school glory days?” she asked as she looked up at him.

  Diego thought carefully before he answered. Before their ten year reunion, he had thought about high school with a great deal of fondness. In the past three years, he had started looking back on his time in high school from a different perspective. “I try not to dwell too much in the past. I usually try to think about where I am now and where I want to be.”

  “Do you think you are on track to reach your goals?” she tilted her head back and asked.

  “I don’t know. Before you came back to town I was worried about whether or not I would win the reelection. Actually, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to run again,” he confessed.

  “And now?”

  “When you are around, I feel like I can do anything.”

  They turned away from the trophy case, and Diego’s hand slipped around hers. She enjoyed the warm contact and tried not to overthink the moment.

  “This new building is nice,” she observed.

  “This might not me the same building we went to high school in, but walking these halls with you brings back a few memories,” he said.

  Lilah turned to
him and asked, “What kind of memories does it bring back?”

  “Mostly good memories for me, also a few wistful ones. It would have been nice to walk with you to class a few times. I noticed you always carried a lot of books with you back then,” he said with a smile. “I always thought you were kind of small to be carrying around so many books.”

  Lilah thought about her reasons for avoiding her locker senior year and weighed telling him the truth. Eventually, she said, “Yep, those books were pretty darned heavy, but I had a good reason to avoid my locker senior year.”

  “What reason was that?” he asked softly as he pressed her against the wall.

  Lilah’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him and whispered, “It was too close to yours.”

  He gave her a pained look and said, “If only you had liked me just a little bit back then, things would have been so much better for both of us.” The regret in his eyes caused a sad, little sensation of longing in her heart.

  “How?” she asked, feeling like she was playing with fire, but completely unable to stop herself.

  “Maybe we could have been high school sweethearts,” he whispered as his face neared hers.

  “Oh,” she breathed as his hand came up to cup her cheek.

  His lips were an inch from hers when he said, “Delilah, if I had ever seen you at your locker between classes, I would have offered to carry your books. I would have offered every day until you said yes.”

  As his lips covered hers, she wondered how she could have possibly resisted. Warmth emanated from him in palpable waves as he gently sucked her lower lip. Her response was an involuntary little sigh that ended abruptly when the bell above them rang. The shrill sound startled them apart just as teenagers began flooding the hall.

  That Friday, Lilah arrived for her five o’clock meeting with Diego wearing her casual flats and a simple, little fit-and-flare dress. She had spent the day running around town making last minute preparations for next week’s ‘surprise’ bridal shower. It was Friday, and Cheryl was supposed to arrive on Sunday. Lilah knew Cheryl would want to know all the party details, despite the fact that she wasn’t supposed to know anything.