Crave for Me

by Rayman Black

  “There are things I have to say to you, too, young lady,” he began.

  I reached into my purse and pulled out the envelope Samantha gave me. I laid it on the table between us and he paused, staring at it.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “This is over twelve thousand dollars,” I said. “This is three years of savings. It’s an act of good faith to prove they were telling the truth when they insisted Mike wouldn’t take money from you.” I nudged it toward him across the table, meeting his shocked gaze. “It’s a mark of his character, and Samantha’s.” I smiled sadly. “It was really good to see her.”

  Dad looked at the envelope in horror. “That means she - “ He reached out a hand toward it, then shrank back. He raised his startled eyes to mine. “She told me the truth. He told me the truth. They weren’t - I thought - “ He trailed off and his eyes filled.

  “Oh, Dad,” I said, reaching out for his hand. He let me take it, squeezing back as tears tacked quietly down his cheeks. “It’s good that she’s happy. It’s good that he’s trustworthy. Don’t cry.” I got up and pulled a paper towel from the roll.

  He took it from me and wiped his eyes, shaking his head. “All this time, lost, and for what? Because I wouldn’t listen? Because I let my anger and judgement cloud my vision.” He looked at me, devastation in his eyes, and my heart twisted. “What can I even say?”

  “You can say you’re sorry,” I said gently. “You can say you love her and you trust her judgement. I can think of a lot of things you might say.” I sat down beside him again. “And I can pretty confidently say that she’s ready to listen.”

  Dad was quiet for awhile, staring at the envelope. When he sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat, it was so unexpected I jumped.

  “So what about you, Katie-cat?” he asked. “I suppose you feel I’ve been unjust to you, as well?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know about unjust to me, but you were pretty unkind to Chris. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” I thought about the afternoon we spent together, about how I felt when I was around him. I decided I might as well make my position clear. It was bound to come up sometime or another, anyway.

  “Dad, I love Chris. He’s a good man, a man I can trust, and I want to spend time with him. We’re staying married. We’re committed to it, to each other, and we’ll figure it out as we go.” I looked at him searchingly, willing him to understand, to accept and support what I was saying. “Whatever any of us may feel about how we got married, we did get married. We did make a promise. I want to keep it. I hope you can understand that.”

  He studied my face for a long moment. “You’re not my little Katie-cat anymore, are you?” he asked quietly. “You’ve grown up, just like Samantha did.” He leaned forward and laid his hand over mine on the table. “Will you forgive an old man for his foolishness? I should have more trust in my daughters. I’m sorry, Katie.”

  I turned my hand and linked my fingers with his, like I used to when I was a little girl and we would go for walks. “Of course I forgive you. And Samantha will, too.” I paused, then asked, “What are you going to do?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I need to talk to your mother. I suspect she’s known all along. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s with Samantha right now. Her ‘book club’ happens to be in Worcester.” He quirked a smile. “It would be just like her to let me come to my own senses and do whatever the hell she wants to, anyway.”

  I smiled. “That’s why you love her,” I said. “I think you should call Samantha. Right now. And buy Mom something nice with the money.”

  Dad looked like I slapped him. “I wouldn’t touch that money for anything,” he said firmly. “I want nothing to do with it.”

  “Samantha isn’t going to take it back,” I said. “That’s a lot of money. What are you going to do with it?”

  “I guess we’ll donate it to a worthy cause,” he said, and shrugged. “There’s always someone who could use some help.”

  An idea dawned in my head, and I grinned. “I think I know exactly what you could do with it.” I told him about Chris, his experience as a kid all the way up to the gofundme page he showed me earlier. “This would tip it right over a hundred thousand dollars, and make a real difference in these people’s lives.”

  Dad sat quietly for a long time, thinking. Finally, he pushed the envelope close to me and said, “Take it. Give it to that family. Maybe it will help make sure the boy finishes college.” His eyes were sober when he added, “Katie, I really am sorry. And I would appreciate a chance to apologize to Chris, too. I think he deserves a better chance.”

  I smiled. “I think so, too, Dad. He’s incredible. I think you’re really going to like him.”

  I heard my mother open the door then, calling a hello to my father. He rose and went to meet her in the hall, and by the low, careful tone of his voice, I knew he was telling her about our talk in the mysterious marital shorthand they developed over the years. I wondered how long it would take for Chris and I to understand each other with little more than partial phrases and facial expressions. I grinned at the thought, and pulled out my phone.

  This went beyond great. I want to tell you about it. Were you still willing to pick me up? If you’re willing, my parents would like to talk to you, too.

  I added a couple of hearts and sent it. For the first time in what felt like years, a sense of peace came over me. Everything was going to be okay. The people I loved were all in my life, and I felt more like myself than I had in a long, long time.

  My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down, smiling as I read his reply.

  As you wish, my fair lady. See you in a bit.

  26

  Chris

  “You sure about this?” I asked Katie, tossing her bag in the backseat next to mine. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. I thought I smelled coffee on the air.

  Katie laughed and handed me one of the two travel mugs she carried. “It’s not fancy, but it’s strong,” she said. “And yes, I’m very sure about this. Why, aren’t you?”

  We got into the car and I put it in gear, checking my mirror and looking around me before I pulled out into the street, never mind that there was very little traffic this early on a Friday. I glanced over at Katie and grinned. “Well, it is a little crazy,” I reminded her. “Most people take time to plan and prepare for road trips. They don’t decide to leave the night before.”

  She waved that away. “We’ve done crazier things. Besides, it’s necessary, isn’t it? If we want to give this money to the Reyes family, we have to get it to Brooklyn. Are you telling me you’d rather mail cash and hope it makes it than take an impromptu day trip? Yeah, I didn’t think that was a great idea, either. Besides, you’re not on again until tomorrow and I have no classes until Monday. Today’s the perfect day.” She grinned. “What’s four hours each way? And this is every bit as important as the Grand Canyon, don’t you think?”

  “You’re incredible,” I said, reaching over to hold her hand. “And I can’t believe your dad is giving away all this money.”

  Katie shrugged. “His honor won’t let him take it, my sister’s honor won’t let her take it back. What else are they going to do with it? I’m glad they agreed this was a good way to use it.” She smiled. “Really, I’m just glad they’re speaking again.”

  “It’s hard when family doesn’t talk,” I agreed, thinking of Jeff. “Listen, before I forget, my folks are having a dinner next weekend, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. My mom cooks a huge dinner twice a month and we all come if we can. I thought it might be a good time to meet them.”

  “I’d love to,” she said. She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Have you told them about me?”

  I nodded and smiled at her reassuringly. “They were surprised, of course, but they’re looking forward to meeting you. I have no doubt they’re going to love you just as much as I do.”

  Katie plugged her phone in
with the auxiliary cord and music filled the car. “I hope you like Ed Sheeran,” she said. “I’m a little obsessed.”

  We took turns driving and picking music, and the time passed quickly with laughter and jokes and a stop in Connecticut for breakfast. Mid-morning traffic was in full swing when we finally made it to Brooklyn. I was behind the wheel again, and Katie read the directions to me turn by turn as we navigated the unfamiliar city.

  “GPS says it’s just a couple more miles,” she said. She flashed me a quick smile. “Are you nervous?”

  I shook my head, but that wasn’t fully true. I was nervous, at least a little. Mixed with it were little sparks of excitement, and an old and awful shame. “I’m not sure I can face her,” I said, slowing down to wait for a break in traffic to turn left. “What can I say? ‘Hello, my name is Chris. I saw your husband shot sixteen years ago and now I want to give you money.’ She’s going to think I’m insane and call the police.”

  Katie laid her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Take a deep breath,” she encouraged. “It’s going to be okay. No one blames you for what happened, and what you’re doing here is a good thing, not a guilt thing. Don’t let old lies rob you of your joy.”

  I didn’t answer, but only because I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure I agreed with her. I still blamed me plenty, if only for letting so long go by without really doing anything to make it right.

  The restaurant was easy to find once we were on the right street. It was a small place with colorful hand-lettered signs in the windows advertising the specials. I found a place to park down the street. Katie and I walked back to the restaurant hand in hand.

  “What if she’s not there?” I asked. “Do we wait?”

  Katie shrugged. “For awhile, sure. But we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Relax, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.”

  I smiled at her, feeling some of my trepidation lift. She was right. For so long I had carried this burden alone, but first Jeff and now Katie had shown me that I wasn’t actually alone in it at all. She had come with me on the spur of the moment simply because she knew it was important to me. Whatever came next, she would be here for that, too.

  I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. “Here we go,” I said.

  A small bell jingled as the door opened. Katie preceded me, and we entered a small space completely filled by four small tables and some chairs. There was a short counter in the back with a cash register sitting on it and a swinging door beside it that obviously led to the kitchen. The dining room was empty.

  “Hello?” I called, exchanging glances with Katie. “Is anyone here?”

  An older woman bustled out of the kitchen, words of apology on her lips. She smiled and gestured us into the room, but her voice became a blur in my ears and the edges of my vision went a strange kind of fuzzy. I felt the blood drain from my face.

  It was the woman from the alley. “It was you,” I whispered, staring at her. The smile slipped from her face and her brow wrinkled in concern as she looked from Katie to me. “You came into the alley. You found him. I didn’t know you were his wife.”

  Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “You’re that boy,” she said, pointing her finger at me. “When Luis died. You were there, weren’t you? You’re the boy who hid behind the tree.”

  Shame reared again at her words, and it must have shown. Her face softened. “Oh, muchacho, it still haunts you, doesn’t it?” She nodded and laid a hand on her chest. “It haunts me, too. It will never go away.” She stepped forward and held out her hand to shake mine. “I am Daniela Reyes, but maybe you already knew that. I’m sorry that I don’t know your name. I didn’t think to get it at the time.”

  I shook her hand. “Chris Owens,” I said. “And this is my wife, Katie.”

  Daniela and Katie shook hands, too, then the older woman gestured to the tables. “Please, sit anywhere you like. I will bring tea. I think you did not come just to see my little place, right?” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen, the door swinging behind her.

  “She remembers you,” Katie whispered as we settled ourselves at a table by the window.

  I nodded. “I wasn’t sure if she even knew I was there,” I said, keeping my voice low, too. “I hid until the ambulance arrived. It would have been a shock to go through what she did. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t even seen me.”

  Daniela came back carrying a tray containing a bowl of chips, a bowl of salsa, three teacups, and a teapot with steam billowing from its spout. I stood to help her set everything on the table. When it was arranged to her satisfaction, she sat down, making a soft oof! sound as she settled her weight off her feet.

  Daniela looked at us curiously. “What brings you here? Why have you come to see me?”

  I shrugged, unsure what to say now that she sat before me. I had imagined this scene so many times, imagined the impassioned speeches I would give, but now that I had the opportunity, my mind remained stubbornly blank.

  “I wanted to see if you were okay,” I said finally. “I’ve thought about your husband every day since it happened. I didn’t remember you at first, and for a long time I couldn’t remember any details. But for the last ten years I’ve wanted to find you, to see how you were doing. I feel like I played a part in robbing you of your husband. I wanted to make amends.”

  Daniela stared at me for a long moment, clearly flustered by my words. “Why would you feel responsible for what happened to my Luis?” she asked finally. “You were just a nino. What could you do? Hiding behind that tree saved your mother the grief of losing her child, young man. It was the right thing to do.” Her face hardened. “The only one responsible for Luis’ death is the drug addict who killed him. Don’t let him take your life, too, in guilt and shame.”

  As if her words were the absolution I needed, I felt the weight of my burden lift. For the first time since the terrible event happened, I realized without a doubt that I could have done nothing other than exactly what I did that day. I couldn’t have saved Luis Reyes. I closed my eyes and let out a quiet breath.

  “How did you find me?” Daniela asked curiously. “This was so long ago. I don’t even live in the same borough anymore.” Her eyes were sad. “I couldn’t stay there after - Jorge and I needed a new start. I didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

  Katie seemed to realize I couldn’t yet trust my voice and she jumped in. “Chris’ brother owns an insurance company in Boston, where we live,” she explained. “He has a private investigator on staff for major claims, and he asked him to look for you. It took him a long time to find you.”

  Daniela looked uncomfortable. “What did he find out?”

  Katie glanced at me, then at her bag, before answering. “Just basic stuff,” she hedged. “Your name, where you live, that you own this restaurant.”

  “That Jorge is in school and it’s taking a toll on you,” I added. “And that’s part of the reason we came here today.” I explained about the gofundme page I made, and the donations it had received. As I spoke, I worried for the first time that maybe she wouldn’t want her private business aired in public like this, that maybe I would offend her. But as I named the amount and gave her the details, her face only showed amazement.

  “All of these strangers are giving me money?” she asked. “Why me? I am not the only widow of drug violence in this city, much less the country or the world. What makes me special?”

  “You have Chris looking out for you,” Katie said, squeezing my hand. She lifted her bag onto her lap and pulled out the manila envelope, now looking a little worn from its confinement in Katie’s purse. “This is the first installment. This donation is cash, so we wanted to bring it to you personally.”

  Daniela took the envelope with shaking hands, looking inside with wide eyes. “Dios mio,” she breathed. She turned her gaze back to us. “How can this be? Are you angels sent by God?”

  I l
aughed shakily. “No, ma’am. Just flesh and blood like you.” I reached over and touched her hand. “It would make me proud to know I helped Luis Reyes’ wife and child to be okay in his absence. Nothing can bring him back, and money can’t replace him, but it was all I could think of to do to help you.”

  Daniela’s eyes filled with tears. “You have a rare heart, muchacho. Thank you for your kindness.” She dabbed her eyes with a paper napkin and blew her nose. “You will let me feed you before you go, yes? I insist. The tamales were made just this morning. I will bring you some.”

  She stood up quickly and bustled away. Katie sat back in her chair and rubbed my back in small circles. “I want to go back there and hug her, but I’m pretty sure she just offered to feed us so she could go cry in private for a minute.” She cocked her head and regarded me. “How are you doing?”

  I shrugged, sitting back and laying a hand on her knee. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “There’s a lot going on inside me right now. She’s a lot more peaceful than I expected.”

  Katie nodded. “She never got bitter,” she observed. “I don’t know if I would have been able to manage such grace if it were me. But then I guess she had to, didn’t she? There was her son to think about. She still had to raise him.”

  I nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Soon Daniela returned, with another heavy tray holding plates heaped with food. The rich, spicy scents hung heavy in the air, making my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

  “Thank you, Daniela,” Katie said, laying her napkin in her lap.

  “Aren’t you going to eat with us?” I asked her, when it looked like she was going to retreat.

  “Please,” Katie added. “We would like to get to know you a little while we’re here.”

  Daniela hesitated, but finally she nodded and went to get a plate for herself. She joined us at the table, and I noticed she took a much smaller portion than what she’d given to either Katie or me. We started to eat and Katie’s eyes widened on the first bite.