A Soldier’s Family (15 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Wyatt

BOOK: A Soldier’s Family
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“I don’t know where things went wrong. I tried really hard not to harp or interrupt, to listen more than talk.”

Manny snickered.

She gave his arm a playful smack. “I know. Hard to believe possible.”

Manny took her hand, brought it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss there. Hopefully it sent a message that he cared for her. “I can be trusted.”

“I know.” The words floated out.

He took her other hand and squeezed both in his. “You need to get Javier into a good church.”

With widening eyes, she stared at their hands, then into Manny’s face. “I know.” Fear accosted her features.

“Let me help you?” he whispered against her hands before relinquishing them.

“How?” Celia tucked one hand into her other, clutching as though fighting off the urge to reach out and nab his hand back.

“Please trust me, Celia. Don’t try to do this alone.”

Maybe this was God’s answer to him. Maybe God placed Javier in Manny’s path to prove He wasn’t mad about Seth. Maybe God did trust Manny, after all. He hoped more than anything that could be true. And that this could be another family in the works.

“I know you mow lawns at the cemetery at night. That’s when Javier seems to get into the most trouble.”

Her mouth gaped. “How do you know that’s where I go?”

“Because I stooped to snooping.” Heat rushed his neck.

She stood. “You followed me?”

He stared up at her. “Once. And only to formulate a plan to help you. I needed to be sure it was a job you could live without. If you were taking care of elderly parents, I couldn’t exactly propose a job change.”

She sat. “I don’t talk to my parents.”

“That’s a shame.”

“No. It’s not. They’re not healthy. I had a very dysfunctional childhood.”

“Javier told me quite a bit. That why you won’t go to church?”

“Yeah. I have a hard time trusting.”

He shot her a wry grin. “I noticed.”

She shook her head at him. “I can’t believe you followed me. I could have you arrested for stalking, you know.”

He laughed. “I almost was.”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

“Yes. Half the police force closed in on me.” He chuckled. “They watch out for you. More than you realize. I think this is the most patrolled street in Refuge.”

“I know. They loved Joseph.” She sipped her cocoa. “What did you have in mind to help?”

He drained his cup of the last drop, then licked cocoa foam from his lip. “I’ve been thinking. I’ll let you know when I fully develop the idea. But it has to do with sending care packages to soldiers. You and Amber do so well with that. I’m really impressed with the gift packets to the teen shelter. I thought maybe you could set up a huge home base and do it for mass amounts of deployed soldiers everywhere.”

“Sounds interesting. I’ll research it.”

“I spoke to my C.O., Aaron Petrowski. He said Refuge Air Force Base would possibly pay you to develop and oversee a program like that.”

“And it’s something I could do from home after school?”

Manny nodded. “You could delegate a lot of the footwork to volunteers. Pray about it.”

“I will.”

“Joel is hiring two more employees at the DZ, so that’s an option for Javier, unless you want him back at the restaurant.”

“What’s the dizzy exactly? I always hear you guys say it.”

“Dee Zee. Short for drop zone. It’s a term for a skydiving facility. More specifically the rural area where parachutes are supposed to land, but is often used in context with the entire facility.”

She laughed. Then again.

He wondered what tickled her funny bone.

Her eyes projected humor. “Where parachutes are
supposed
to land?”

His facial skin heated. “Yeah. I know. The only grove of trees for miles…and I found it. Back to Javier.”

Her hands wrung together. “What if he won’t agree to this?”

“Celia, I know it’s hard, but please try to trust me.”

She leaned back. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Chapter Eighteen

M
anny set a second cup of steaming cocoa near Celia, then relaxed next to her on the navy-blue couch.

“Thanks.” Celia rested her head back.

“How long since you heard from him?”

“About three this afternoon. He was supposed to be back in an hour.”

Manny tilted her wrist to eye her watch. Just before seven.

“He didn’t come home for supper at five. He has no cash because he paid me all of it for the damages on your scooter. He never skips food.”

“Any recent arguments?”

“Not really. He’d been spending too much time on the computer. So I called him a cyber-spud, but he laughed about it. Didn’t seem mad. Just secretive. I jokingly drilled him about his Internet sites but he ignored me. Usual stuff.”

Manny nodded.

“After he left, I looked at the page he was viewing and felt horrible. He was ordering my Christmas present online, though I don’t know where he’d get the money.”

“Oh, man, Celia. I told him I’d take him to buy your present, but he said he could only find it online since it was from a mail-order beauty-supply store. I told him to let me know how much and I’d let him work it off.”

She put her face in her hands and groaned.

Manny tilted her chin up. “Want me to go help look for him?”

She chewed her lip. “If he’s not home by nine, which is his curfew on school nights. Maybe he forgot he told me he’d be home in an hour. I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Celia planned to stay here until nine? With the two of them alone in a dimly lit house and a cozy fireplace crackling? And wearing that perfume he liked?

This was going to pop-quiz his self-control.

Especially when Celia set her cocoa down and snuggled beside him. “Got any movies to pass time?”

Tons. “No. They’re all boring and drab.” He scooted away from her. She retrieved the basket of DVDs from the coffee table cubbyhole and plucked one out. “This sounds good.”

At least they were all rated PG.

Twenty minutes later Celia relaxed against him and her breathing pattern changed. No doubt she’d fallen asleep. Firelight flickering off her caramel skin mesmerized him. Burnt golden-brown embers visible through orange flames made her eyelids glow. The red flames matched her lips, which he really ought not to stare at.

Maybe he’d just see if her eyelashes were real. He leaned in, trying to detect a glue line. He moved closer, maybe an inch or so. Her breath floated across his face. He held his, looking for any sign of natural lashes beneath fake ones, then decided they must be real. He really couldn’t be sure. He wondered if she’d feel it if he gave them one little tug. He reached his hand forth then withdrew it.

He wished she’d wake up. Keep him company. She shifted. He leaned in once more, to see her lashes. Who knew why he was so obsessed about it? He used to steal his sisters’ and glue them on the dog’s hind end. Then draw lips beneath them with a washable marker so the dog’s tail resembled a nose. His sisters had deemed him a canine terrorist, but it hadn’t bothered the dog. Manny and his dad had laughed their heads off.

He leaned a hairbreadth away from Celia, and reached.

Celia awakened with a start and jerked to a sitting position. “Yow!”

Heat crept up his neck.

Yep. Real, all right.

She rubbed her eye. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I mean, I was just bored and trying to see if they were real.”

“They most certainly are. See?” She batted them at him for good measure.

He stood, reaching for his cane, then ambled to get her cloak.

She stretched. “What time is it?”

Manny rubbed frost off the window to peer outside. “Eight.”

“You let me sleep through the movie?” She took her cloak from him, wrapping it around her shoulders.

Manny kept a safe batch of airspace between them. “I was about to wake you.”

“How, by ripping my eyelids off?”

Heat rushed his neck again. “Only a little tug. We need to look for Javier now. The roads will be too bad to drive on soon.”

Celia buttoned her cloak. “It’s just snow.”

“Ice storm’s coming later, though. You don’t need to drive in that.”

Hood up, she tugged on her gloves.

He pulled on his coat. “While you dozed, I left a message on your home phone for Javier to call my cell if he returned.”

“He won’t know where I am when he gets there.”

“Good. Maybe he needs to understand what he puts you through when he doesn’t call or come home on time.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

He swiveled to face her and reached for both her hands. “Pray with me?”

“That, I can do.” Celia closed her eyes and prayed with Manny for her son. “Thank you,” Celia said.

Manny pulled her close, she thought for a hug, but when he held her, panic surged.

This was a bit too cozy for her comfort. He said he was a hugger, and that would be fine except his hugs affected her more than they should. What if he kissed her again? Like a match tossed carelessly in dry woodland, things could easily blaze out of hand. Scared of her reaction, scared she felt too secure in the haven of his arms, scared she’d want to stay here forever, she put her hands flat to his chest and shoved.

His eyes blinked open then shuttered to unreadable. He scooted away and searched her face.

“I’m not up for affection.” That was a dumb thing to say. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.”

His face yielded to disappointment but he masked it. “No problem. Sorry if I overstepped my bounds. Again.”

Instantly she knew he meant his actions at the reception. Great. She’d gone and offended him again. It wasn’t him she didn’t trust to be alone this time. It was her. She couldn’t act on her attraction to Manny. If she did, she might fall in love. Physical attraction was not enough of a foundation to base a relationship on. Problem was her heart could skid out of control even if she subdued her body.

Manny stood and leaned on the chair arm with both hands. “Let’s look for Javier.”

“What about when the roads get bad?”

“I notified police to keep eyes peeled for him, since they’re out patrolling anyhow.”

“Thank you for sticking close to me and helping.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Cel.”

“Me, neither. I mean, you know what I mean.” Her face heated until relief fluttered down his face. He stood straighter and calm entered his demeanor. “I appreciate this. Maybe it would be wiser for us not to remain in a house alone unless a third party is here anyway so your reputation isn’t compromised with our neighbors.” But his face spoke of needing to be together, though he wanted to do the right thing by her more.

“If you’d feel better about it, we can head out to look for Javier.” Though worry attacked her mind, Celia had an odd sense of peace about Javier’s safety.

 

After scouring the streets for Javier with no results, they grabbed a cup of coffee from a drive-through, then returned to the house because the roads had turned treacherous.

The police phoned with frequent updates, assuring Celia they were on the lookout for Javier. She wished he’d at least call.

Once at Celia’s, Manny walked her around front to her door. Like the moths above their heads, circling the faint yellow glow of her porch light, his eyes flitted across her face and came to rest on her mouth. Then as a moth too close to flame, he darted his gaze away.

She wanted to reach for him. Tell him it was okay. She wanted him to kiss her.

But it wasn’t okay.

Manny wasn’t a dude with a desk job.

Then he leaned in, looking very intent on a good-night kiss. Panic spun Celia, nose to her door, fumbling her key in the slot. His warm hand on her shoulder nearly made her drop them. She concentrated to slow her breathing, her pulse.

He’d almost kissed her.

She’d almost let him.

“I’m sorry, Celia. I just thought—”

His words trailed off but not in her mind. He just thought he’d seen permission in her eyes.

He’d thought right. Only he couldn’t know.

She twisted the knob and summoned courage to face him.

He’d stepped back, holding his head at an angle, studying her with eyes that she knew saw right through any facade.

She swallowed. Icicles tinkled in the night wind. The few moths that winter hadn’t chased away flitted around them. The light buzzed softly above. The moon cast shadows across Manny’s face, but lit his eyes. Eyes she knew washed over her in purity. Not a hint of sensuality, just care and deep longing. But for what? Companionship? Connectedness? Comfort?

Love?

Manny shifted, breaking the penitent silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me when Javier gets in, no matter how late.” His voice ran as thick as cold honey.

“I will.” Celia shut the door, hating that the honey in her own voice had betrayed her, too.

Her mind turned to wonder where on earth her teenage son was at ten o’clock on a school night.

Chapter Nineteen

“I
shoulda been there to protect him,” Manny rasped. His own voice and his heart pounding in his ears woke Manny from the nightmare that held him hostage. Drenched in sweat, he flipped the lever on the recliner and stood. His heart squeezed, hounded by guilt from the dream that always reminded him that he’d killed his own son through neglect.

Not on purpose.

Where the thought came from, Manny couldn’t be sure, but for the first time since his son’s drowning, he began to believe it. How many times had he heard, “Accidents happen,” and wanted to scream back, “But they don’t have to.” Every accident Manny could think of was one-hundred-percent preventable. He’d never been able to accept platitudes, especially since that particular accident ripped a human life from this earth and Manny’s heart out, then destroyed his marriage and led to his wife’s suicide. Or accidental overdose, he didn’t know which.

Regardless, the accident had torn two people from his arms, and incapacitated Manny with torturous guilt that wouldn’t let him enjoy life outside of being a PJ and rescuing people. He didn’t think he deserved God’s forgiveness. Though he believed it, he hadn’t been able to forgive himself until coming into the covenant refuge a relationship with God provided.

Should he pray? Manny wished Joel were here. He’d know what to do. He went in the kitchen to call Celia.

“Knew you’d be awake. Can you come down? I’m in need of a mental makeover, and I have it on good faith you’re a pro at those.”

Within minutes Celia arrived. Armed with an arsenal of cocoa packets, she put water on to boil in the kitchen. Manny strode over to stare out the door’s oval glass. His phone chimed. He eyed the time on its face. Midnight. He didn’t recognize the number, but it looked local. He flipped open the phone.

“Manny, that you?”

Manny stepped past Celia to the outside and tugged the front door shut a little too hard. “Where are you, Javier? Your mother’s worried sick.”

A swallow. “I know. Look, can I come by and bring a friend?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether I want to be here to see you scalped.”

“She’s that mad, huh?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Maybe if she knew where I was, she wouldn’t be. I don’t know. Maybe she’d be even madder. Look, I got someone here in real trouble. I—I know I don’t deserve it, but we need help. Manny, I need you. I don’t know where else to turn for help.”

Through huge picture windows flanking the massive, beveled-glass front door, Manny canvassed the living room. He’d lost sight of Celia. The wingback chair she’d been lounging in sat empty. “Your mother is here.”

“Where are Amber and Bradley?”

“Spending the weekend at the pond. How far away are you?”

“Couple blocks. Mom have her bag?”

“That suitcase-looking thing lined with more studs than a rhinestone cowboy’s rodeo ring?”

Javier snickered. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

“No. She came down here in a hurry. She just has her humongous purse.”

“I’ll stop by the house and get her bag. Mom can’t go too long without her makeup.”

Manny laughed. “You’re probably right. You trying to butter her up?”

“Something like that.”

“Then butter me up too, because you have some explaining to do. Bring marshmallows and extra gloves if you have any.”

“Got gloves. No marshmallows. Mom says we can’t afford them. We’ll be there in a sec. Pray Mom won’t blow her top when she sees who’s with me.”

“Girlfriend in trouble?”

“No! Dude, yuck. Trust me when I say I’m still in that ‘girls are gross’ stage.”

He snorted at the cell phone. “Ri-ight.”

“Okay, there are some pretty chicks out there, but seriously, I have no inclination to pursue them until I have my career squared away. I promised that to my dad when he had the big abstinence talk with me weeks before he passed away.”

“Then you mind giving me a clue about who’s coming with?”

“Enrique.”

The son of Joseph’s murderer.

“He called. I felt like I needed to go find him. He wasn’t at his house so I cut through the park on my way back home, and saw him. He was gonna blow his brains out or take a bunch of pills. I talked him out of it and we’ve been walking around. I didn’t have a phone to call, and I didn’t want to leave him alone. He was scared to come to my mom’s house, but he said he’d come to yours. Well, Joel’s.”

“I understand. I think your mom will, too. Why’s he want to end his life? Did he say?”

“Yeah. Thinks everyone hates him. All the kids at school shun him because of what happened. Everyone in town knew my dad.”

“And his dad murdered yours.”

“Right.”

“Now you’re helping him.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”

“Javier, I’ve never been so proud to call someone my friend.”

“What? Ah, dude, don’t slip. I’ve been telling him all about you. You’re the closest thing I have to a dad now. I bragged about how big and tough and fierce and brave you are. Don’t let me down by acting like Soldier Softie.”

Manny chuckled because Javier sounded serious. “I’ll do my best. His mother know where he is?”

“She’s wasted. Been a drunk since the murder trial.”

Manny thought it really sad, and such a waste of life. “Maybe we can help her, too.”

“Help who?”

Manny turned. “Hey, Celia. Didn’t hear you come out.”

“That’s ’cause I snuck out the side door to see where you went.”

Manny eyed the snowball in her hands. “I think your mom’s about to launch an attack, Javier, so bring your friend and come home.”

 

Home.

The word trickled through Celia’s heart and mind, warming to her toes. For a moment she let her mind run with the fantasy that they could be a family.

Then she came to her senses. “Was that my son?”

“Yes.”

“I knew he’d call you before me.”

“That bother you?”

“I’m not sure.”

Manny nodded, then ran a hand along the back of his neck, the way he always did when he had hard news to break.

She dropped the snowball. “What?”

“Celia, he has someone with him who might be upsetting for you to see.”

She blanched. “He got a girl prego?”

Manny laughed. “No, I think he’s more into parachutes than girls right now.”

“Well, I don’t know what’s worse. One can make me a grandmother and the other can make me not a mother.”

Manny shook his head. “You’re going to have to try to trust him more, Celia. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”

She huffed. “Okay, hotshot, I’ll try things your way. For one month and that’s it.”

“What if my way works better?”

“Then I’ll try your way more, but don’t expect me to admit it to you.”

“You need to contact me and let me know how he’s doing.”

Panic bolted through her. “Why? You’ll see for yourself.”

“Probably not. Found out today my doctors released me to active duty three weeks from now.”

Celia felt like someone had punched her in the heart. “You’re leaving?”

“’Fraid so.”

She tucked a curl behind her ear, hoping he wouldn’t notice her tremble. “Just like that?”

“Celia, it’s my job. I have to go back. I
want
to go back.”

“I know. I suppose I should be happy for you.”

Hope flickered in Manny’s eyes. “But?”

Should she tell him? Confess she cared for him more than a friend? But wouldn’t that be voicing the obvious? She got the feeling he was waiting around for her to make a move. It wouldn’t take much to topple head over heels for the guy, and then what? She’d have to wage a war against fear like she’d never known. Every time he’d go on a mission, which would be often, she’d have to wonder if he was coming back.

Was loving Manny worth the risk?

Celia knew the answer to that in a heartbeat. “What if I gave you a reason to stay?” she whispered.

“What if you gave me two reasons instead? You and Javier are a package deal, right?”

Tears formed in Celia’s eyes. “You make me so mad.” She stomped for better effect.

His brows cinched together. “Huh?”

“How you always make me cry. And I am
not
a crier.”

Confusion gave way to the biggest grin she’d ever seen grace Manny’s dark face. He moved close. Celia peered up, half-expecting to see that look he’d had right before he almost kissed her the last time. But his face contained a look of total mischief instead.

“What are you up—?”

Manny surged forward and Celia stiffened against the coldest snow clods she’d ever felt ski down her back.

“You big brute! No fair.” She scooped up a snowball, but he and his cane dove in the front door.

It shut as snow splattered glass.

To Celia’s surprise, a smaller snowball thumped against her back. She spun, expecting to see Manny, but Javier stood with a friend and a grin instead, both pensive.

Celia instantly recognized the boy beside Javier as the short kid from the restaurant. He stared at the ground, looking as scared as he had the day Celia accosted him by the Dumpster. So this was Javier’s mystery friend.

She didn’t sense him to be a threat, though. Instant bullets of compassion hit her for him, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. He looked high or drunk or something. Eyes were red and puffy. Javier looked straight and sober. And scared, whereas the friend looked…scarred.

Mercy fell around her like snowflakes. Swipes sounded as Celia dusted snow off her arms. “Shall we head inside before the sun comes up?”

The boy swallowed and darted a furtive glance at Javier, who eyed her with apprehensive caution. Just the way he did when he knew he’d been hiding something from her and was on the verge of being sniffed out on it.

“Come on, Javier. You, too, Droopy,” Celia said in a teasing tone to the speed busser boy as they entered the house. “Do you need to call your parents and tell them where you are?” She shut the front door.

The boy shook his head emphatically and Celia thought he paled by shades. His gaze dropped to the polished floor like a chunk of wood and stayed there.

“Just why not?” Grinning, Celia planted fists on her hips.

“My dad—doesn’t live at home and my mom’s passed out. I doubt she’d answer the phone.”

“We have to at least try.” Celia tugged Manny’s cell from his belt loop. “What’s your number?”

As the boy rattled off numbers, Celia poked the keypad then paused. “Her name?”

Foreboding spiraled forth as he opened his mouth to answer.

“T-T-Trina Pallazio,” the kid stuttered.

The room froze when Celia’s head snapped up. It seemed ice layers had coated every surface, including humans.

Celia craned her neck. “Excuse me?”

“Trina. Her name’s Trina.” Distress apprehended the boy.

“Pallazio. As in the wife of Ricky Pallazio?” The man who shot her husband then left him to bleed to death?

“Yes.” The kid eyed the door and made a move toward it.

Celia beat him there.

Dismay and anger whisked her world off-kilter. One part of her whispered, “Stop and be reasonable.” Another screamed at the top of the lungs of injustice. What on earth was her husband’s killer’s son doing with hers? Why hadn’t Manny prepared her for this meeting? What was it all about anyway?

Whatever it was, she was far from ready for it.

She whirled on Manny, knowing he rode her heels into the foyer. “How could you do this to me, Manny? You should have told me instead of let me stumble into this situation blind.”

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