Romance in Color
Page 147
“Got it,” she said.
He nodded. He took her hand and led her back to the couch. “Sometimes I can find all the right words; other times, God leaves me none.”
He took a deep breath and caressed the skin on the back of her hand.
“You are beautiful.” He ran a finger down her cheek and touched her lips. ”But that’s only the beginning. You have a good heart. Sarah said you were the one who fought for a relationship with her. The way you care for Luis is how a mother should care for her child—fierce and determined.”
Where was he going with this? Was this a breakup or the next step in their relationship?
“I want to continue to help with Luis, but maybe you were right. I need to focus on fighting this law. And you … you have other things to deal with.”
Breakup.
Chapter 19
Birds arguing in the bush outside her window and the angle of the sun woke Alicia the next morning. She glanced at the clock. Sunrise was a little later than normal. Autumn was edging its way to the coast.
With Luis still asleep, she pulled on a bathrobe and slippers and went to get a cup of coffee. She was trying daycare for Luis for just a little while so she could register for classes, and she was praying it would go well.
Another prayer was sent up to get the funding she needed to make her dream a reality.
“You look happy this morning.” Her mother pulled down a cup and poured the dark liquid into it. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
Her mother’s eyebrows arched, but she didn’t say anything as she sank into a chair.
Alicia relented a bit. “I’m taking Luis to the college daycare today to see how it works out.”
“I hope it goes well,” Serena said. “Your grandmother can’t handle him anymore, and I’ve got to get back to Los Banos and my job.”
And out of my life.
Silence stretched the tension between them.
“Will the daycare be open at night, so you can continue your evening classes? Or will Raúl still take him?” Her mom turned the page of the morning paper. “He seems like a nice man.”
“We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got too much going on, and …” It was time to put her goal out there. “I’m going to go to school full-time.”
The cup thumped on the table. “How are you going to manage that? What about your job?”
Alicia drank her coffee. Deliberately. Slowly. Then she sat down next to her mother.
“There’s a woman at school, Dr. Susan, and she teaches sociology. She’s helping me. She thinks I can do a four-year college and make the world a better place for kids like Luis. She believes in me.”
The implied “and you don’t” hung in the air.
The momentary hurt in her mother’s eyes shamed her. Why did she have to be so cruel?
“How are you going to pay for it? And what about Elizabeth? She gave you that job when you needed it.”
“I’ve applied for scholarships and grants. Dr. Susan thinks I’ll get one.”
“And Elizabeth?”
“We talked about it before I made my decision. I didn’t want to hurt her more than our family has done already.”
Her mother looked away.
She’d scored a direct hit, but it wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be.
“She’s going to sell the business anyway, because she wants to spend more time with Marcos. So, you see, everything is all taken care of.” She stood and placed her coffee cup on the counter. Time to get Luis moving.
“Alicia.” The command in her mother’s voice stopped her, just as it had when she was a little girl. “Sit down, please.”
She retrieved her cup of coffee and returned to the table, her knuckles white where she clutched the ceramic mug.
Her mother leaned back in her chair, as if taking care not to get too close to Alicia’s venom. “Your grandmother’s illness has forced me to look at reality more closely. She’s not going to be here forever. She won’t leave this house, so there’s no getting her back to Los Banos with me. As long as you’re here and Luis has daycare of some kind, I think things will be okay.”
“Of course.”
“But I’ve seen how Raúl looks at you, and you him. I don’t think your breakup will last forever.”
“It’s over. Really. We don’t want the same things.”
“Don’t lie to me—or yourself. Especially not to yourself. Differences of opinion can be overcome.” Her mother’s voice grew reflective. “I hid the truth from myself for a long time, and it caused a lot of pain for me ... as well as other people. And now”—her gaze met Alicia’s—“it’s causing a huge rift between me and the daughter I love more than life itself.” She gripped Alicia’s hand. “What do I have to do so you will forgive me—forgive me for loving your father more than I should have and bringing you into the world?”
The choking words tightened Alicia’s own throat with agony. She forced herself to look at her mother’s tear-stained face. “What you did was wrong.”
Her mother’s shoulders stiffened as the words pummeled her, but her gaze never left Alicia’s. “I’m not asking for your judgment but for your mercy. None of us is perfect.”
“If you had to do it over again, would you?”
“I can’t answer that. I don’t want to answer that.”
Alicia heard Luis stir in the other room and started to get up.
Abuela looked into the kitchen. “I’ll take care of him.”
Alicia started to protest, but her grandmother’s glare made her stop her words.
No escape.
“What made you so hard, Alicia? Your father doted on you. I always supported you, even when you got pregnant. Your grandmother has worked hard to help you with childcare. When are you going to descend from your throne and join the rest of us doing the best we can?”
The expression on her mother’s face took her aback. The softened features begging forgiveness had jelled into a mask of resilience.
This opportunity wouldn’t last. If she didn’t bridge the gap right now, she may never have the chance again. She would lose so much. So would Luis. How could she deny her son a grandmother?
Looking deeply into her heart, she searched for the crack in the brittle ice around her feelings for her mother. Her parents had loved each other so much they were willing to risk the condemnation of the church for their mortal sin, painfully dangerous for someone as religious as her mother.
When she’d asked Elizabeth how she’d found forgiveness, Elizabeth had said, “I can’t undo what’s done. If I clutch the anger, I only become a victim. Better to count my blessings, like you and Sarah.”
She’d called her boss a saint, and Elizabeth had laughed. “Just realistic,” she’d corrected.
Her mother was still waiting for her answer.
Alicia touched her hand, a gesture she’d often used as a small girl to get her mother’s attention.
Her mother turned her hand palm up, and Alicia slid her hand into her grasp.
“I want ...” she began, finding it difficult to speak past the lump in her throat. “I want to forgive you ... to be able to ...” Tears began to flow as she realized what she really wanted—something that could never be again.
She desperately wanted to be a little girl again, safe in the small world of her family.
“I know,” Serena said, standing and pulling Alicia up with her. “I wish that things had been different, that I’d been a stronger woman.” She cradled Alicia’s head in her hands. “But then I wouldn’t have you. And you are the most precious person in the world to me.”
“Mom, I’m so sorry. I love you.” Alicia let her mother gather her in her arms as she cried out all the pain and hardness in her heart.
• • •
“Good thing the fog stayed out,” Raúl said as he helped Peter move the wooden table to its position at the edge of the parking lot.
“If we didn’t need the fog for the moisture, I’d be happy if it stayed out to sea all the time,” Peter replied. Once they set down the table, he stretched with his fist in the small of his back.
“Back pain?” Raúl asked.
“Always. You’re a doc. What do you think I should do?”
“I work on little people. They don’t have back pain.”
“Give ’em time.”
Raúl laughed, his spirits higher than they’d been in a long time. He was finally doing something. The only problem in his perfect world was the rift with Alicia.
People started arriving a few hours later, first dribbling in, then it seemed like someone had opened a gate, and streams of humans flowed into the area, all bearing casserole dishes. Raúl told people where to put their offerings and showed them where the line began at a table laden with paper plates, napkins, and plastic forks, knives, and spoons. Iced tea and sodas were available in another area.
The sun was warm on his back, adding to his general happiness. He was anxious to hear what Peter was going to tell those assembled and how they’d receive the message.
“How’s it going, bro?” Juan asked as he carried over the chili he’d made that morning.
“Good. No. Better than good. It’s great.” He smiled and took the pot from Juan’s hands. “Better get in line. Food’s going fast.”
“I will.” Juan scanned the crowd.
An edge of nervousness scratched at Raúl’s happiness.
“This probably isn’t the best time to talk about this,” Juan said. “But I think I need to head out in the next few days. I have been here a little too long. The feds may be getting close, and I am not ready to go back to Mexico yet.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“Sí.” Juan gave his arm a friendly punch. “But I’ll be back. Can’t leave my little brother chasing señoritas on his own.” He looked toward the parking lot. “Speaking of señoritas, I think yours has arrived.”
Raúl followed his brother’s gaze. Alicia was picture-perfect in her white blouse and multi-colored skirt. Heels of some sort—did they call them wedges? Whatever they were, they made her hips sway in a way that was beginning to drive him mad.
Why had she come?
“Later,” Juan said and started toward the food line.
“Oh, yeah, see you.” Raúl never took his eyes off her.
“Hi,” she said when she reached him.
“Hi.”
“I decided to hear what your group had to say.” She held up the plastic container she had in her hand. “Brownies. Where do I put them?”
“Let me show you.” He wasn’t sure what to say. The desire he had to be with her was still strong, but he sensed landmines ahead—more arguments about his cause.
“There are a lot of people here,” she said.
“Gives me hope. Maybe we can defeat this thing.”
“Have you figured out why Joe Wilson started this proposition?”
“No.”
Why couldn’t she let it alone?
She put the container on the table and opened it.
He snatched a brownie. “Oh, my God, these are so good,” he mumbled around the dark chocolate in his mouth.
“It’s the only thing I can make.” She laughed.
Their gazes caught. He wanted her in his life, but his experience hadn’t taught him how to be on opposite sides of an issue and still be friends, never mind lovers.
A familiar figure caught his gaze as it stalked down the path to the gathering.
Joe Wilson’s face was broken into planes of anger, and he was headed right toward them.
Raúl released Alicia and put himself between her and the man striding their way. “What can I do for you?” he asked once the man was within hearing range.
“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?”
“Having a potluck. Did you bring anything? That’s the price of admission.”
“Hell, no. I came to speak with whoever’s in charge. I know what you’re doing. You’re going to find a way to get all these people to vote against my bill.”
“That’s the plan.”
“That’s illegal.” Joe Wilson waved a finger at Raúl’s face. “Illegals don’t have the right to vote!”
“What makes you think these people are illegal?” His good mood started slipping away.
“I can tell just by looking at them.”
“You’re nothing but a bigoted old man. Please leave. Now.” His fists clenched of their own volition.
The warmth of Alicia’s touch slowed his racing pulse by a few milliseconds. “Are you Joe Wilson?” she asked.
The man gave a sharp nod.
“I’m glad to meet you.” She held out her hand. “I’m Alicia Fuentes.”
Joe stared at her hand, obviously caught between prejudice and good manners. Finally, he gave her a brief shake.
“Welcome to our potluck,” she said, taking a step closer to the man. “Even though you didn’t bring anything, there’s more than enough food.” She waved her hand at the laden tables. “Please stay. I, for one, would like to hear what you have to say about this proposition.”
What was she doing?
“I ... I’m not staying.”
“Please change your mind. Sometimes when you break bread with people, you get to know them better.”
She was making things worse. The last thing Raúl wanted to do was eat with his enemy.
But his uncle had advised him to understand those against him so he could fight more effectively. “Yes, there is more than enough,” he said.
“Aren’t you the same guy who told me never to contact you again? The pediatrician?”
“Sí. I was rude. Forgive me.”
Joe Wilson stared at him and then at Alicia. He glanced quickly toward the people in the food line. Some had become aware of the drama at the edge of the crowd and were watching curiously. Peter started to walk toward them.
“I’m not staying. And I’m not giving up.” Joe Wilson licked his lips and pushed his cap back on his head.
“Mr. Wilson?” Alicia’s voice was honeyed but not obsequious.
“Yes?” The edges of the man’s face softened a little.
“I have a little boy—fourteen months.”
“Aren’t you a little young to start having babies?” The edge was back.
“It wasn’t on purpose, but he’s here. He ... has some issues. I am legal, so your new law wouldn’t affect me, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to need medical care for my child and not be able to get it. Can you?”
Any budding sympathy left the man’s face. “Actually, I can. It’s exactly the reason I want to see this bill pass. You people took my son from me. If it hadn’t been for an illegal taking up space in the emergency room, Tommy would have lived. He was only eight. Eight.” Pain whipped at his voice, like baying hounds at a fox’s tail.
“I’m so sorry.” Alicia put her hand on his arm.
He flinched, and she pulled back.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Wilson?” Peter had reached them.
“You and your kind can leave my country, that’s what you can do.” Wilson stalked toward the parking lot, fists clenched.
“Do you think that’s true? What he said about his son?” Alicia asked.
“What do you mean?” Peter asked.
Raúl relayed what Wilson had said. “I’ll check into it,” he added. “I can’t believe a doctor would deliberately hold off treatment for someone who needed it.”
“But what if it’s true?” Alicia asked. “How could that have happened?”
”And you are?” Peter cocked his head.
“Alicia Fuentes.” She held out her hand. “Raúl and I are … friends.”
The wo
rd almost broke his heart.
Chapter 20
As he watched Joe Wilson leave the potluck, Raúl noticed two vehicles entering the parking lot. They stopped at the edge of the pavement, and three overly pressed men got out.
He looked around for Juan but didn’t see him. He started to edge around the crowd, hoping to spot his brother before DHS did.
The men strode toward the group, occasionally glancing at papers they held in their hands.
Raúl spotted Juan about the same time the lead official did.
Too many people stood between him and his brother. Small children grabbed at Raúl with sticky fingers, and acquaintances wanted to talk.
“Sorry. I’m busy,” he muttered over and over while he made his slow-motion progress to warn Juan. While he wasn’t a big man, his broad shoulders made it difficult to slip easily between groups, especially if he didn’t want to leave any bruised bodies in his wake.
His heart pounded as he neared the other side, cursing himself for choosing to plow his way through instead of circumventing the crowd altogether.
What would he do if the feds arrested Juan? What could he do? Would the lawyer he’d hired to enable his parents’ return be able to help?
His breath was short as he finally broke through.
Too late.
Cuffs were already around Juan’s wrists.
A lump in Raúl’s throat gagged him as he suppressed the urge to scream profanities. Everyone’s attention needed to be on Peter, not on the drama at the edge of the lawn.
“What are you doing?” he asked the man clutching Juan’s arm.
“Who are you?”
“Dr. Raúl Mendez, American citizen.” Just to make things clear.
“Well, this man is not, Dr. Mendez. What’s more, he’s involved with the cartels. We don’t need his kind in our country.”
“He’s fighting the cartels, not with them.”
The man shrugged and began to walk toward the lot, Juan in tow. The others fell behind. “Not my call. I just execute the warrant, don’t write it up. That’s what they have lawyers and judges for.” He stopped. “Mendez. A relation?”