A Soldier’s Family (16 page)

M
anny shook his head at her and jabbed a pointer finger at the front door. She needed to cool her jets anyway. He refused to second-guess himself. If he’d told her, she would have fled.

Period.

Three seconds. If he could just get her to hush and listen for that long, he could convince her of Enrique’s bleak existence. The kid needed her forgiveness and needed it bad. Judging by Enrique’s devastated then despondent countenance at Celia’s outburst, his very life may depend on it.

Celia left the house as if flames in the floor kissed her soles. She stormed off the porch and onto the sidewalk before the door had a chance to slam shut.

And slam it did, right in Manny’s face, leaving an ominous echo in the room to go with the formidable chill.

Manny pivoted and set a sustaining hand on Enrique’s frail shoulder. “Wait here. We’ll work this out. Don’t worry.”

The kid swallowed and looked very unsure. Javier invited him to play a video game. Enrique pulled something from a plastic baggie and handed it to Manny. He mumbled something about it being a gift for Celia, then reluctantly followed Javier, who lured him to the game room.

Satisfied they’d be all right for now, Manny stuffed Enrique’s gift into his pocket. He opened the door and stepped outside, wishing he’d put on a jacket. Race tracks carved in the snow indicated Celia had lapped the huge yard seventy-times-seven and was now approaching the street. “Wait, Cel.”

She whirled, hair wild, arms tight across her chest. Angry tears streaked down both cheeks, leaving black mascara trails. Manny’s feet crunched across snow to her, remembering too late he forgot his cane. He’d been walking on it less and less.

“You knew?”

“Just barely.”

A harsh, gurgling sound grated up her throat. She put her back to him.

He reached for her, snagging her coat before she could tromp off. The motion tugged her off balance and she slipped on the ice. Manny tried to keep her from falling but his own feet slid in the meantime. They both went down, she on her bottom, he on his hip.

Something audibly popped.

He lay back and groaned.

Sitting up, Celia slapped hands to her mouth. “Oh! Your hip! Oh! I broke it again!”

Manny shook his head and sat up. Snow covered their backs. “It wasn’t my hip.”

She shuddered. “I heard something pop!”

“Yup.” He lifted his derriere and pulled out an exploded bag of baby marshmallows from his back pocket. “Enrique brought them as a peace offering but he was afraid to hand them to you himself. So I stuck them in my pocket to give to you. When I landed, the bag must have popped, letting the air out.”

“Hey! They cushioned your fall!”

“Yeah, squished the marshmallows though. Maybe you should spring for them more often. They only cost sixty-seven cents at Mayberry Market, you know.”

“With a budget as tight as mine, sixty-seven cents is crucial. That’s a box of macaroni, one dinner for Javier and me. It’s either lipstick or marshmallows, and I’m not about to—”

“Go without your lipstick. I know. Mind helping me up?” He reached his hand to her.

Celia stared at it a second before standing and gripping it. “I guess we should stop playing in the street, eh?”

“Yeah.”

She tugged him up, then dropped his hand like the hot end of a glue gun. Dismay and confusion clouded Celia’s eyes as she blinked at the house. “I don’t need this right now.”

The vulnerability in her muttered words tugged Manny’s heart and told him she neared the end of her rope, and not just with Javier. It touched him that she’d allowed him that small glimpse of fear and hurt.

He stepped closer. “Celia, please hear me out.”

Her gaze reached deep into him and she didn’t step back.

“I know you and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff. In fact, you can hardly stand the sight of me.” He grinned.

Both arms fell to her sides. “Not true. At least, not anymore.”

He chuckled. “Well, you’re honest. Look, I know you disagree with my advice regarding Javier sometimes. Okay, much of the time, but—”

She propped hands on her hips. “What makes you say that?”

He bit back a grin. “The way you squish your nose up like you’ve been baptized in pickle juice every time I say anything.”

“Oh. Well, I do that to everyone. I’m not good at covering my facial reactions.”

Not a new revelation. “Regardless of how you feel about me, I think I could get through to your son. I wish you would give me a chance.”

“I can’t very well argue with that. Javier respects you, Manny, like…” She drew a breath.

“Like his dad?” Manny finished for her.

Tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them fiercely, but more surfaced. She clicked her tongue and huffed out white breath, he figured more out of irritation for crying than anything. “Yes.” Her eyes averted. “Like his dad.”

Manny had to concentrate to keep his feet from moving forward. He should have been concentrating on his arms, too, because they snaked out to brush a comforting thumb along her arm. “You miss him, don’t you?”

Surprisingly, she didn’t budge. Didn’t flinch even.

He took another step forward, putting them forearm’s length away. She blinked once. A faraway look drove her tortured gaze to the glow of city lights where Javier’d said their home was. The one she’d shared with Joseph. “Very much.”

“You don’t have to hide your pain from me. I understand the suffocating grief of losing a loved one.”

“I know,” she whispered. White breath puffed out. Her gaze dulled. “It’s just awkward to talk about Joseph to you because I—” As if catching herself before spilling her most coveted secret, she gasped. Her eyes widened at him and she clamped her mouth shut.

He moved closer. “You what? Please say it. Admit to both of us that you care for me more than as a friend.”

“It’s just weird, okay? Trust me on that.”

“Speaking of trust, hear Javier out. For once, don’t interrupt or go on a rampage until he’s had a chance to explain.”

“Fine. But it better be good because you have no idea how hard it is for me to even be in the same room with that kid.”

“If you think it’s hard for you, imagine how Javier feels. And Enrique.”

She looked at Amber’s door. “Let’s go in.”

Celia noticed the kid’s anxiety spiked to outer space upon her return. Compassion sifted in around her ill feelings toward his dad. Obviously the child couldn’t be held responsible for his father’s actions.

When the boy stood, Celia’s heart melted further. She hadn’t noticed before his sorry state of dress: an extremely worn flannel shirt that needed a good mending covered a pair of outdated high-water pants. She glanced at his bare ankles, feeling sad that he didn’t even have socks on in this weather, and his shoes were soaked.

Her eyes zipped back to his shoes. Javier’s?

Celia eyed her son, who took notice of her careful scrutiny of his friend. She wiggled her finger at Javier, calling him over. “You better not have traded those shoes for drugs.”

“Mom, for the last time, I don’t do drugs. I’d smoke the stupid shoes first.”

“I suppose you were toking candy at the restaurant that day?”

He shook his head. “I just pretended to inhale. Did you ever see me blow out the smoke?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “No. As a matter of fact, I didn’t.”

“Well, it’s been weeks ago, so don’t you think my lungs would have exploded by now?”

She almost cackled because he looked properly annoyed. “Okay. Fine. You got me there.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Tell me the story on this Enrique kid.”

“He wants to die. I want him to live.” Javier pocketed his hands.

Tears welled in Celia’s eyes.

So others may live.

This kid was destined to be a PJ as sure as she had dynamite for a temper. She wiped her sodden cheeks.

Javier’s mouth went lax. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. I believe you, Javier.”

His eyes bulged. “You whu-ut?”

“I believe you.”

“You mean that?”

She nodded.

He looked at her funny, then tugged at her hair and pinched her skin. “You really my mom or an imposter?” Before she could comment, Javier dashed past her yelling, “Manny!”

The stout PJ pulled a Tom Cruise and skidded across the floor in stockinged feet, gained leverage on the throw rug and rushed to Javier, looking very much in rescue mode.

How long had he gone without his cane?

Javier hiked a thumb at Celia. “Dude, you got anything to take her temperature and pulse with? She’s acting way weird.”

He placed both hands on Javier’s shoulders and quirked a grin over his shoulder at her. Manny looked so at home in Refuge. Arm draped over her son. Padding across polished wood floors in dark, manly socks. Standing here in the room with them. Her. Him. Javier. Laughing, joking, working through issues together.

Much the way a family would.

Celia sucked in a gust of air. Oh, boy. Boy, boy, boy was she in real trouble. She flapped her hands as if that would help her brain sort it all out.

Manny approached. “You okay?”

“Yes. No.” Her arms launched into ultra-flail mode. “I don’t know.” Now hyper-flail. Her entire body jiggled from it.

Seeming to sense her thoughts had more to do with the two of them than with Enrique, Manny moved the focus of conversation to a safer place. “I meant, are you okay with everything—in there?” He hiked a thumb toward the others.

Celia cast a sidelong glance at Enrique, who darted frequent, pensive looks their way. She returned her focus to Javier and took a calming breath. “Yes. Tell me everything.”

Javier reiterated how he’d sought Enrique out at school then the restaurant. By the time he got to the part where he’d spent the past few hours walking the frigid park with Enrique after having found him on the verge of ending his life, Celia could hardly breathe. Someone had almost committed suicide tonight, and God had intervened, and used her son to do it. That Enrique ended up here wasn’t an accident. She closed her eyes.

Give me strength to do what I know to be right.

She opened her eyes and approached Enrique. “May I talk to you a minute?”

Apprehension accosted Enrique’s face and body posture.

Celia smiled. “It’s okay. I only bite on Wednesdays.”

A shy half-grin escaped Enrique, who stood slowly. She could practically hear his knees knocking together.

Celia propped an arm around Enrique’s shoulder. He trembled beneath it. “Listen up, Droop. Javier likes you. He’s really picky about his friends. That must mean you’re pretty special. Any cool friend of Javier’s is a friend of mine, as long as I approve of the friend. In your case, I do.”

Enrique blinked as if she spoke words from another galaxy. “But…but my dad—what he did—”

“Doesn’t matter. What’s past is past and what’s done is done. No matter how hard you and me and Javier and your mother wish we could change that day, it’s not going to happen. We just have to pick up the pieces and move on from here.”

He nodded and swiped at tears.

“That starts with calling your mother and letting her know where you are. Let her know you’re safe. You
are
safe, right?”

“I am now.” He eyed Javier. “Thanks to him. Tonight’s the first night I haven’t felt like the world’s biggest loser ever since—” He swallowed hard and lowered his face, shoulders slumped.

Celia tilted his chin, getting eye-to-eye with him. “Enrique, I’ve been right where you are. To the depths of such dark depression that I didn’t see any reason beyond Javier to go on. You may not see tonight that tomorrow holds a reason to live, but how will you ever know if you don’t take a chance on a new day?” She’d been where his mother lay, too, chained to a bottle. But now wasn’t the time to address that.

Enrique seemed stricken and unable to speak.

“God’s mercies are new every day. Every single day.”

He appeared crestfallen. “Not for me.”

“Yes. For you. There are no exceptions. Not one. You hear?”

He eyed her, then Manny who leaned in the doorway with his arms folded loosely against his chest.

“It’s true,” Manny said.

Enrique didn’t appear completely convinced, but looked like he desperately longed for the words to be true. “We used to go to church. Well, Mom and I did anyways. That was before—”

The shooting that changed all our lives.

A thought struck Celia. “Where are you spending Christmas?”

“We don’t…we’re not, I mean, we haven’t celebrated anything since—” The poor kid couldn’t even say it.

He was way worse off than she. He hadn’t coped well with the murder. According to Javier, his mother hadn’t coped at all, except through alcohol. For the first time since Joseph’s death, Celia thought of her husband’s murderer’s family. She’d never considered the toll on them. It became personal and overwhelmingly clear that the crime had ripped not one family apart, but two. Until tonight, she never once cared about the family on the other end of this tragedy.

“It’s high time you did celebrate Christmas, don’t you think? Call your mother. Mention I need to speak with her. I’d like to invite you and her to Christmas dinner at my house.”

“I got a sister, too.”

“She’s welcome to come, as well.”

“And a dog. He’s my best friend. My only friend until tonight.” Enrique passed a look of deep thanks to Javier, who nodded much the same way Celia observed Manny do over the last few weeks. Probably an unconscious trait Javier picked up from Manny since he looked up to him so much.

Celia ruffled Enrique’s hair. A raggedy mop of a thing that also needed a date with her scissors. “Fine, as long as the dog won’t mind being terrorized by a psychotic cat. He can run wild in the backyard and eat roast leftovers. I don’t do turkey for Christmas.” Amber’s mom always overdosed them on it at Thanksgiving dinner at the pond.

The boys begged to stay the night with Manny then returned to gaming. Celia went to help Manny make beds. “Working hard or hardly working?”