A Man's Heart (19 page)

Leaning against the old counter, Cruz met Jules's eyes over the rim of his cup. “You okay?”

Nodding, she looked away. She'd woken Crystal and told her about the death and they'd had a good cry. She hesitated to speak openly of the death yet; words only made it real.

Crystal heated water in the microwave for herbal tea, and then sat down at the table. For a moment, silence covered the room. Each appeared lost in thought. Finally Cruz spoke. “Someone has to tell the children.” They hadn't prepared the children for death, praying it was too soon.

Jules reached for a tissue when tears spurted. He glanced at Crystal. “Can you help me, Crystal?”

“I'll do anything, Cruz, but telling Ethan and Livvy that their mama is gone should come from you and Jules.” She reached for Jules's hand and squeezed it. “They love ‘Aunt Jube' and the news might be easier to accept coming from you.”

Jules brought the tissue to her nose. Crystal was right. She'd developed an uncanny sensitivity when it came to the children's needs. “Where's Adan?”

“He can't handle this.” Cruz glanced away but not before Jules detected moisture in his eyes. “He's taking … her death pretty hard.”

Crystal rose. “I'll dress and go over. He doesn't need to be alone right now. Is he sleeping?”

Cruz shook his head. “He hasn't slept all night.”

Her sister left the room and Jules stood. “The children should be awake anytime.”

He nodded. “Should we tell them in there—here?”

“Let's keep a normal schedule. Let them come to us.”

Within ten minutes Jules heard the patter of bare feet on wood floors. Livvy was out of her single bed, heading for the kitchen and breakfast. The child, though exceptionally bright, would have no idea what life changing news awaited her this morning. She burst into the kitchen, dragging a blanket, her Cinderella Barbie, all giggles and warm fuzzy smiles. Her face lit when she spotted Cruz and she went directly into his arms.

He caught her up, lifting her over his head, inducing a round of giggles.

Jules was drawn back to the day she had come home. Sophie had done the same thing; lifting her baby daughter over her head and got a face full of oatmeal. Jules watched the playful antics, recognizing Sophie's infectious spirit still flourished in her little girl.

Minutes later a tousle-haired Ethan arrived, joining the rowdy activities. Rounds of tickling and giggling slowed the inevitable, and Jules was grateful. How did they tell two young children that their mother was never coming home?

Finally Jules took control of the situation and sat Livvy in her chair. Cruz settled Ethan at the kitchen table. Sobering now, the two adults faced the children. Jules reached and took hold of Cruz's hand. He didn't pull away.

He began. “I have some sad—”

“… but happy news,” Jules interjected. Kids didn't understand death and dying. They had to make this acceptable to their limited knowledge.

Cruz glanced at her, frowning.

She mustered a smile. “Happy in so many ways, Cruz.”

He nodded. “Aunt Jube is right. It is happy news, but a little sad too.”

Ethan and Livvy gazed back, intent.

“This morning, very early, God took your mommy to live in heaven.”

Ethan cocked his head. “Heaven? Where the angels live?”

Cruz smiled. “Where the angels live.”

Kneeling beside the table, Jules reached for Ethan's hand. “It's a special honor to go to heaven. Mama is going to be very happy there. No more hospitals, or sickness or pain.”

Livvy reached her hands out and wiggled her fingers. Jules rose to fix a bowl of Cheerios.

“Can Mama come home now?” Ethan asked.

“No, son. Mama has to stay in heaven now.” Cruz looked away.

Livvy's smile faded. “Uncle Cruz cry?”

“He's a tiny sad this morning.” She patted the child's
head and spoke to Ethan's concern. “Your mother didn't want to leave you ever, but she knew that someday you'll go to her.”

Ethan's brow knitted. “She isn't sick anymore?”

“No, she isn't. She's very happy.”

“She won't ever come home?”

“No. She can't ever come home.”

The boy appeared to digest the news. “Does she have those things in her arm in heaven?”

“Needles? No, she doesn't have anything in her arms that hurts anymore. No more medicine, no more tubes or treatments. That's why this is sad but happy news.”

Cruz knelt beside the child. “It's okay to cry, buddy.”

Ethan peered at him. “I don't want to cry. Mama's not sick anymore. She doesn't have all those needles in her arms, and she's really happy.” He pursed his lips, as if deep in thought. “I think she wants to stay in heaven.”

Hot tears rolled down Jules's cheeks. “I think so too.” If only an adult had a child's innocent wisdom.

Ethan nodded. “It's like when Speck got runded over by a truck. He gets to live up in heaven now.”

“That's right. Just like the time your ole dog got hit by that truck,” Cruz said.

“Mama said ole Speck was in a better place and we could cry, but not for long. Old Speck wouldn't want to come back if he could.”

“Your mother was right; she and Speck are in an extraordinary place now,” Jules confided in a hushed whisper as she set Livvy's cereal in front of her. “She's special now; very special.” Not that Jules could think of a single instance when Sophie wasn't unique.

Ethan sat for a moment, and then said, “Did she wanna go?”

“Oh yes — she wanted to go,” Jules assured him. “She didn't want to leave you and Livvy, but she knew that Aunt Jube and Uncle Cruz would take good care of you until someday we'll join her up there.” She glanced at Cruz. “Someday, Uncle Cruz and I — Crystal and Adan, we'll all go to meet her, and that will be a really joyful time.”

“And me too?”

She turned to touch the tip of Livvy's nose. “And you too.”

The little girl with Sophie's eyes and features nearly took Jules's breath when she said, “Mommy's an angel now.”

Jules knelt to kiss her chubby cheek. “She always has been, sweetie. Sent to earth to be your mommy and my best friend.”

“I choose to meet her there, instead of her coming back to the hospital,” the boy stated. “Can I have some bacon with my cereal?”

“You may. I'll get it for you.” Jules glanced at Cruz and they exchanged a mutual relieved sigh. Why hadn't they known that a child's complete trust would recognize the glory of death when adults ran from it?

But how long could Jules run from the fact that she'd lost two of the most precious things in her life in a brief few months? Pop and Sophie.

C
onfident that she could not make it through the memorial service two days later, Jules plowed ahead with Crystal's support. Pop's service had been different; he'd lived a long life and Jules knew that he was ready to meet the Lord. Sophie was ready to meet her Maker, but her life had been cut short and Jules couldn't shake her resentment.

Sophie, as thoughtful in death as she was in life, had arranged her own service. She requested that her ashes be scattered into the wind on Heaven's Rise.

Mellon's Mortuary overflowed with floral tributes, and some area residents had to stand outside the building to pay their respects. The Delgados were loved and respected in the community.

Before sun-up the next morning, the family met and carried Sophie's ashes to Heaven's Rise. Jules assumed that Cruz and Adan would do the honors, but as the small party gathered near the rise where Sophie had sat so many times and pondered life, Cruz stepped over and handed the vase to her. When Jules met his eyes, she saw Sophie in his depths. Sweet, sweet Sophie, who was no more. “She would want you to send her home.”

Swallowing back the huge lump in her throat, Jules stepped to the edge of the rise and when the sunrise burst forth in warm, welcoming rays she opened the container and Sophie flew to eternity on a soft summer breeze.
Say hi to Pop for me. I love you.

The family then gathered in a circle and released twenty-eight yellow balloons, in honor of each year of Sophie's life here on earth, into the sky, soaring, reaching for the peace that lay beyond. The balloons lifted and flew, catching the drafts and forming a beautiful symmetrical pattern. It was as though Sophie were offered up and caught into angels' arms.

Crystal stood nearby holding Olivia in her arms. Ethan stood by her side. Lifting his hand, he waved, “Bye-bye, Mama.”

Crystal drew him close, weeping openly.

Later the mourners walked to their vehicles. Jules stood at the rim of the rise, unwilling to let Sophie go.

Cruz touched her arm. “Come on, Jules. Sophie's not here.”

“I know … I'll be along shortly.”

Nodding, he walked to his truck, shoulders bent. Adan hadn't smiled once in the past two days. When hope was a reality, they'd accepted God's timing but now that hope was gone, the enormity of what lay ahead rested heavily on Sophie's brothers. Two small children. In a single last breath, once again Cruz's life had changed and Jules felt his grief in addition to her own.

When the dust from the vehicles disappeared, Jules sat down near the ledge where she imagined Sophie had taken her heavenly flight. There'd be no more long talks, shared giggles, or cleansing cries. She'd have no one to call in the middle of the night when fears wouldn't let her sleep. Sophie always
made her feel better. No more rodeos, planning weddings or marveling over new births. That part of Jules's life was over, still faintly rising in a flawless blue sky, a yellow display celebrating Sophie's life and the ones who deeply loved her.

She sat on the outcrop talking to Sophie for a very long time. About nothing; about everything. Quietness surrounded her. Up here, life was surreal, not so frighteningly real. A soft breeze touched her cheeks. Early morning sunshine drenched her hurting soul. Up here, Sophie still sat by her side, laughing, crying, and sharing her loss.

It was past one when Jules was confident enough to face reality. On the drive home, she found the Tracker pulling into The Grille. She hadn't eaten this morning; her appetite had rejected food for days. She was now responsible for Sophie's children's future. What an awful position Sophie had thrust upon her. She loved one man, and highly trusted the second one. Either would make a good father someday, but Sophie's wishes would be carried out. Jules prayed that she would make the right choice when one became apparent.

Adan's truck sat in front of the café. Jules hoped that he wouldn't want to discuss the tense situation today. The wound was too raw. She needed time to think the situation through.

Cool air washed over her when she entered the building. A few customers sat at tables. She spotted someone at the pool table.

She gave Nick her order, and then took a seat at the counter. The thought of food turned her stomach, but she'd cave in from hunger if she didn't eat.

The crack of pool balls hitting felt ceased. A man stepped to the jukebox and plugged in four quarters. A woman's voice started …

Blue Bayou.

Closing her eyes, Jules sensed Cruz before he approached the counter. He must be driving Adan's truck today. She should have known that; they often switched vehicles. He extended his hand, and she blindly reached and accepted it. Wordlessly, he led her to the small wooden dance floor where he turned and took her into his arms. Their feet slowly moved in unison.

His heady presence filled her senses. Their bodies effortlessly moved to steel guitar strains, coming together like an intricate puzzle. The refrain played through her mind …

How she longed for happier times.

Snuggling tighter, she absorbed his strength, his scent, his familiarity. They were an intricate conundrum; so complicated, so complete when they were together. Like soda and pizza. Or ice cream and hot fudge. Why did it take grief to draw them, to make them set the past aside and rest in each other's arms? Months of tension now culminated in this obscure grill in a pool of misery, months when they could have both taken and given consolation.

The steel guitar cut in, its aching refrain touching her very core. He released her; she twirled and then returned to his arms, settling back as gently as a feather.

Sophie, are you watching? You'd like this, wouldn't you. Me and Cruz. In each other's arms, dancing as though the past didn't exist, as though he loved me as much as he did four years ago. I love him as much—no, more. If I could go back in time, I'd marry Cruz and Pop would have to find another way to grow the farm. The potato plant, if it materializes, will bring wealth and prosperity, but it can never replace what I gave up.

The steel guitar and xylophone took over, the tropical
strains sweeping her to a sultry beach where water gently lapped the shores. The strength of his arms held her, holding on as though he still held a part of Sophie. Jules didn't care if she served a need. He served hers in more than a thousand unexplainable ways.