by Lynne Hugo
“Gary, looks like you should get out of the sun, and I need to change Gracie. You want to play with her awhile, while I fix her bottle?” I said.
He was diverted. “Definitely.”
“When is Gus coming, though?” Louisa wanted to know as I lifted Gracie out of the backpack. We had this down to a perfect science now. “I’d like to get some of these leaves raked, and start some supper, but—”
“He said his shift ends at four thirty and he’d come over then. I should call him if that’s not all right.”
“What he wants is an invitation to supper. I know that man,” Louisa said, looking at her watch. “We’ll see.” I’d thought she might be glad. “Guess these leaves aren’t going to get raked now,” she said. Maybe she was glad. I couldn’t tell.
“Have we got something nice we can put together?” I asked, trying to sound like that was really what I wanted to know.
“No idea.” She wasn’t giving up anything. I rolled my eyes when her back was turned and took Gracie into the house.
* * *
I checked a couple of times as she was making dinner. The usual enormous salad, a cheese and vegetable pasta casserole and rolls. She’d made a lot, but then she often did, and we’d have the leftovers for lunch the next day. I noticed she didn’t set the table.
At a little after five, Gus knocked. It was Gary who let him in. I was feeding Gracie and Louisa was pretending she hadn’t heard it. The men shook hands, but as best I could tell, Gus didn’t tell Gary one thing except hello before heading straight for Louisa, who was hiding out in the kitchen. She gave him the evil eye—still mad at him for being mad at her—and I thought, oh Lord, this is going to be ugly. But he just put his arms around her and gave her what looked like a sweet kiss. He whispered to her, the first time his voice hadn’t been loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and right when I wanted to eavesdrop, too. After that, she raised her face to his, and her face had softened into a smile. Whatever he’d said to her, I sincerely hoped he’d consider selling me the script for the next time she got mad at me because I was mad at her.
Then I realized: Oh! This meant Gus wasn’t mad at Louisa anymore.
But nothing had really changed. What had happened had happened. What had been done had been done. Had they both just decided that human beings who love each other are surely going to frustrate and disappoint each other and that the way to stay together is to assume that, and then consider the intention of the other’s heart?
Or, on the other hand, maybe he’d told her something new. Could be either. I couldn’t wait to find out.
Gus turned and spoke to me in his voice, which sounded as if he were using a megaphone. “So, Miss CarolSue. Good to see you! How’s the little one doing?”
Louisa might be fine with him now, but remember, he was the one who’d told me that I couldn’t raise Gracie, so I wasn’t feeling all gooey toward him.
“She’s doing extremely well, Gus,” I said, managing to be civil.
“Glad to hear it. Well, it’s Gary that I really need to talk to, but he suggested that he owed it to his family, being as how you all . . . anyway, he just said to come tell everyone at once. That okay with you?”
Louisa and I agreed, of course. “But the baby—”
“We can keep things under control,” Gus said. “Maybe we could all sit down? In there?” He pointed to the living room. “I don’t suppose you have a bit of that special tea made up, Louisa?”
“I can fix it,” she said.
This was ominous. We needed to be sitting down and have special tea. Gracie gurgled at me. “Let me finish feeding her and then I’ll give her the bottle in there,” I said. “You don’t think this should wait?”
“S’all right,” Gus said. Which would have been reassuring if he hadn’t added, “Hey, honey, I’ll take my special tea without the tea, just the special if that’s okay with you. Gary? You want the same?”
We all knew Gary didn’t drink, so I almost fell off my chair when Gary said yes.
Louisa made herself and me some special tea the right way, and by the time it was all set up in the living room, Gracie was finished. The worry and dread I carried was far heavier than the baby as I carried her in.
“So,” Gus began after dramatically clearing his throat. I would have thought he was enjoying this except that he looked so awkward, so uncomfortable. “Gary’s church asked me to come to their meeting last night to answer some questions for them. Gary said it was all right with him, so I did.” He looked at Gary. “I thought I might be able to help. Provide information, you know. Like about Barnes, as best I could.” Gus shifted his weight and took in a breath. “See, they were wanting to find out if they could press charges against you, how to go about that. About their building fund money. Embezzlement.”
Gary’s head went down into his hands, face-first.
“They were looking for information. I answered their questions.”
“For the love of God, Gus! Are they pressing charges?” Louisa erupted from the couch, where she was next to Gary. I was in the wingback chair so I could set Gracie’s bottle down on the little side table when I needed to burp her. Gus was over in Harold’s recliner. Louisa didn’t like it when he sat in that chair, but she’d never asked him not to, so how would he know that was something else connected to Harold that would always be sacred? Sometimes I wondered if I was grieving the right way, when I compared myself to my sister. I guess we go on the way we go on, though, and maybe there’s no right way.
Gus held up one palm. “Whoa,” he said. That kind of response is guaranteed to light my sister’s fire, but instead of flipping out, she shut up. “Okay,” he said. “I don’t think so. They can, and they still may, but I think they’ve come to a resolution that, if Gary agrees to it”—he faced Gary and paused, waiting for Gary to take his face out of his hands and look at him—“it may keep this whole matter out of the court system.”
Gary’s voice was hoarse. “I already said I’d get a second job and pay it all back.”
“Well, son, they’re not willing to wait for that. From their point of view, see, that’s their money that should be in the bank and drawing interest. You know how that works. Anyway, to cut to the chase, a donor came forward last night and contributed all the money to replace what’s missing. Plus the lost interest.”
Louisa’s mouth dropped open. It was almost comical the way she gasped, except that I imagine mine had too. Gary’s expression was complete disbelief.
“None of my members have that kind of money,” Gary said.
“Well, I can’t speak to that. And the person doesn’t want his identity known.”
“Wait a minute,” Louisa said, wrinkling her face, narrowing her eyes. Skeptical. “There’s more to it. There’s got to be.”
Being the sensible one, normally I’d be the sister to say that, but Gracie had just spit up on me and Marvelle, behind me on the top of the chair, was taking random paw swipes at Jessie’s face when the Lab put her front paws on the arm of the chair and stood on her hind legs every now and then to lick Gracie’s face. All Louisa had to do was pay attention. I was surprised she didn’t let Rosie Two and the girls in the house tonight and expect me to manage them, too.
Gus sighed. “I’m afraid there is a catch. It seems they want to keep the church going, but they’re not entirely sure about you, Gary. Uh . . . they think you, well, to rephrase their concerns, they aren’t pleased with your recent . . . uh . . . moral leadership. ”
Gary said, “They’re kicking me out . . . of my own church, aren’t they.”
“No, no. It’s not that, not exactly. They want you to take a sabbatical. An unpaid sabbatical. They can see their way to maybe having you back after that.”
“How long? I can get by for a month, anyway.”
“A year. Minimum.”
“A year? Who’s going to run the church?”
“Don’t know that, son. Won’t be you. Brother Thomas seems to be sort of taking charge righ
t now. Since I have a connection to you because of, well, your mother, I guess, and the legalities about your baby over there”—he gestured at Gracie who was nodding off on my shoulder now—“I was asked to just fill you in. The not pressing charges, well, it’s all tied to you agreeing to this. That was the church’s condition—”
“But they got the money from that person,” Louisa objected. “I don’t understand.” She’d reached over and put her hand on Gary’s knee.
“The donor could have put the condition of not pressing charges on it . . . There was a lot of talk about options,” Gus said. “Anyway, the point is that, Gary, you’ve got to decide if you think you can beat this in court and you want to let them go that route. Might go to mediation, but not likely a prosecutor would go for that. Court’ll order restitution even if all you get is probation and community service. Make it hard in the job market later. Or, you can take their offer, and maybe even come back to your church. If you think you want that. But now it’s all between you and them. Brother Thomas wants you to call him.”
Gary sat still, as if he was trying to absorb it. In the way of human beings everywhere, I suppose, my sister—who’d loathed everything Zachariah Barnes stood for and the bill of goods he’d sold Gary after Cody was killed—well, now she was working herself up to fight for him to keep the church that she’d always considered crackpot. I saw it on her face before she spoke.
“But it’s Gary’s church! They can’t—”
“Sister,” I interrupted her. “Give him time to think. He’ll know what to do.”
She didn’t like my inserting myself, I could tell, because she started with what was going to be Shut up, CarolSue in only slightly nicer words, but Gary stopped her.
“She’s right, Mom. I gotta think.” He stood up. “Thanks for coming, Gus. I’ll take it from here.” He stood and crossed over to me. “She’s sleeping? Too early for bed, though, isn’t it? Give her to me. I want to hold her some.”
I transferred Gracie to his arms. She roused and whimpered, and Gary offered her the pacifier. Then he took her blanket out of her carrier, wrapped it around her and went out the front door. I admit, it scared me. Louisa, Gus, and I all sat quiet, still in our places, nothing to say. Emotion drained slowly from the room along with the remaining daylight, replaced with uncertainty.
Maybe five minutes passed like that. Then Louisa got up and switched on the floor lamp. “Gus, honey, would you like another special tea without the tea? CarolSue? How about a refill?”
“Sure would,” Gus boomed. And I allowed as I’d have a touch more myself. As we were coming back to life, Gary came back in with Gracie. Louisa reached for her, and he put the baby in her arms. “I’m going to get going. Thank you, Mom and CarolSue. Thanks, Gus. I’ll be in touch with Brother Thomas in the morning.”
“I thought you’d stay to supper,” Louisa said.
“Not tonight, Mom. But thanks. Jesus loves you.”
“Okay, son.” This was a typical exchange for them.
After Gary left, Gus said, “I’ll be on my way, too.”
“Not on your life,” Louisa said. “What’ll I do with all this food if you don’t stay to supper? Don’t you irritate me now.”
“Wouldn’t dare, honey.”
Everyone was trying to act and sound normal, as if we still weren’t waiting for the moment we’d lose our Gracie, and now, to find out if Gary would be either charged with embezzlement or accept being banished from the church he’d started with the only remaining hope of his life.
* * *
Later, after we’d eaten, Gus had gone home, and Gracie was asleep, Louisa and I did the dishes. At supper we’d all talked about Gary, but briefly, so as to not reawaken the terrible worry that Louisa, especially, was tamping down. We agreed that it was up to him entirely, and it was best not to advise him one way or the other. “Who’s giving the money?” Louisa said. “And how much is it anyway?”
“Person wants to remain anonymous. I imagine they’ve got their reasons,” Gus said. “As to the amount, I guess you could ask Gary, but maybe it’s best to stay out of it, honey. He’s a grown man.”
I agreed with that, and then we let it drop.
And once Gus was gone, I could ask her: “So . . . Gus was mad at you, and you were mad at him for being mad at you. He comes in and whispers in your ear, and all of a sudden, you are no longer shooting death rays at him? What did he say?”
“He said, ‘I’m an idiot, sweetheart. Let’s take a nap.’ ”
Chapter 34
Gus
It had gone about as well as it could have at Louisa’s, he supposed. God, he hoped Gary would have the sense to take the deal. Oh, it was Gary’s mess, and in Gus’s world, he should pay the consequences, but damn, he couldn’t abide standing by while the woman he loved lost her son to prison and her granddaughter to—was it Guatemala? Someplace dangerous, anyway—after losing her grandson and her husband. He couldn’t do anything about losing the baby, which sounded like the baby, too, was dying. Gus didn’t mean it like that, but he knew it might feel that way to Louisa. He could keep Gary out of prison by making the money contingent on no charges, but the decision was up to Gary. Gus hoped Gary would think of his mother. Part of Gus wanted to shake some sense into him on that score, but best to stay at some distance and have only Rhonda and Gus himself know what he’d done.
He was sitting in his office at the station, replaying it all over his second mug of coffee, when he backtracked and noted, with some surprise, that to himself he’d thought of Louisa as the woman he loved. Huh. Well, maybe so. Maybe so.
“Connie,” he called through the open door, which drove her insane. She said he should quit being a lazy ass and walk out there to talk to her like a normal person. It wasn’t exactly respectful, but she was easy to like, so he didn’t really care, and he kept right on doing it anyway. “Did you give me all my messages?”
No answer. She was pretending she couldn’t hear him.
Gus sighed and got up, walked around the partition and out into the short hall area. “Connie!”
She turned from her phone board and flipped her headphones down around her neck. “Oh! Goodness. Were you speaking to me?”
“Did you give me all my messages?”
“No, I sold the ones I didn’t care for at a garage sale up the street. What do you think I did with them?” She rolled her eyes. Did all women do that?
Gus sighed and hoped she would mess something up someday and that he’d catch it. He’d thought Gary would have called him by now. Or Brother Thomas. Or, not that he hoped this, the prosecutor. It was pushing noon and nothing, though.
He checked his email again. Nothing there, either.
The phone on his desk buzzed. “Line two,” Connie said. “Someone named Juan Ramirez, I think he said.”
Nobody Gus knew. “I’ll take it,” he told Connie and switched over. “This is the sheriff,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Connection is fine, sir. This is Juan Ramirez. I’m an attorney with Legal Aid, presently representing Rosalina Gonzalez. She said you had visited her, and I got your name from the log at the detention center.”
“And?”
“Miss Gonzalez asked me to call you. I believe you have the ability to bring her daughter to the detention center?” It sounded to Gus like he sighed. “An immigration judge is coming to Indianapolis, so they’ll be bussed there for court rather than transferred to a federal facility first.”
“They’re going to let her take the baby to court?”
“Arrangements will need to be made if Ms. Gonzalez is deported. But maybe you could bring her for a visit again? Her court assignment will be either tomorrow or the day after, I believe.”
“It’s not a great time for the family.”
“It’s a worse time for Ms. Gonzalez.”
Gus leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. The lawyer was right, but damn. Damn. If she was deported, it would be right after court
. Likely from Indy. “Understood. All right. I’ll call them and try to bring the baby today.”
“The schedules are capricious. What we are told is not always reliable. Please do it as soon as possible.”
Gus said he would, hung up and spoke to Rhonda in his head. I don’t care. No one should keep a child from its mother. You were good, Rhonda, but you needed her, too. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
* * *
As he expected, Louisa and CarolSue didn’t take it well. “Today? And you mean she could end up deported—like tomorrow or the next day? From Indy?”
The undressed answer to that was yes. He’d tried to explain it clearly, even made sure he spoke slowly and loudly so Louisa could take it in and tell it correctly to CarolSue. She had, because Gus overheard what she said and CarolSue’s reaction. And then, worse, he had to say he was coming to pick Gracia up to take her for a visit. Yes, today. He’d be there at one o’clock. No, later really wouldn’t work and he was sorry about the nap schedule. Louisa’s voice was breaking when he hung up. “Love you,” he whispered, after the phone was in the cradle. He couldn’t let Connie hear that, certainly. He wondered if Louisa would forgive him, especially since he saw no chance that CarolSue would.
* * *
At 12:55, Gus pulled into Louisa’s driveway slowly, not wanting to make noise on the gravel, meant to convey that he was sorry. Likewise, he knocked quietly at the front door. It had rained earlier, and he wiped his feet carefully while he waited. Louisa came, and let him kiss her cheek. “I know this is really hard,” he said. “I’m sorry, honey. Her lawyer called this morning.”
“We want to go with you,” she said as he stepped into the house. “We’re ready and so is Gracie.”
He wasn’t prepared for this. Maybe she didn’t understand what Justice Center meant. “Honey, it’s a jail. No place for—”
“We know. CarolSue wants to know Gracie’s mother, and so do I. We’re her family. We’re all family now.”
“I guess . . .” He wasn’t happy about it. “But you’re not going to—” He was going to say pressure her to change her mind, but he stopped himself because she was handing him something.