California Sunrise (21 page)

“We hope to give you some techniques that have worked with Alicia’s son, Luis,” Raúl added. “And answer any questions you may have.”

“Exactly what we want.”

For the next hour they talked about the neurological patterns that made Luis’s mind different from what experts called “neuro-typical thinking.”

“Unlike a lot of kids who like lots of stimulation”—Raúl pointed to the toys lining the walls—“Asperger’s kids are better off focusing on one thing at a time. And if that thing has a repetitive movement, it’s even better.”

“Also, I’ve found if I talk to Luis before I move him from one activity to the next, it’s easier.” Alicia shrugged. “Never entirely easy, but easier. I don’t know if he understands what I’m saying or if he’s come to associate the sound of my voice with a change, but it helps.”

The care workers peppered them with questions. She was impressed with the insight they had into the problems. These people, mostly her own age, had a grasp of childhood development that the normal childcare provider didn’t. Her spirits began to lift.

When it was time to leave, Betsy walked them to the door. “I’ll have to talk to my staff, but I think we can implement some of the strategies you talked about so we can help out with Luis’s childcare as long as you’re a student here.”

“Oh, thank you.” She hugged Betsy, who returned the gesture.

“Dr. Susan told me you’re going to start a support group for parents of Asperger’s kids. May I give people your name and number?”

“Sure.” She wrote the information down on the pad of paper Betsy gave her.

“I guess you’re committed now,” Raúl said as they headed back to the car.

“Or I should be committed,” she replied.

“Sounds like you’ll be able to go back to work soon.” He chuckled.

“Yeah.” Selling skin-care products didn’t sound as exciting as it once had.

“Have you thought more about going to school full-time?”

“I don’t think I can do it right now. Not with
Abuela
still recovering. My mother won’t be here forever.” She settled into the passenger seat.

He navigated through the parking lot to the Latin tunes on the radio, a smile on his face, and his fingers tapping the steering wheel in time to the music.

“True, but childcare at the college is inexpensive. I can help out with evening duty of Luis and your grandmother if you need to have a part-time job or something.”

“You’d take care of
Abuela
?”

“Sure. She won’t bite.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” She stared out the window. “What about my job at the spa?”

“I thought you said Elizabeth hired someone.”

“She did. Dylan’s only temporary.” Or at least that’s what she’d told herself. Her life had turned upside down since she’d met Raúl and started school. Every plan she’d made was changing. Was she flexible enough to adapt?

She bit a cuticle.

Raúl glanced at her but didn’t say anything, merely went back to concentrating on the crawling commuter traffic.

Eucalyptus trees lined the highway. A fire from a number of years ago had destroyed most of the east side, but the west side held a dense grove of the fragrant and messy trees.

“Another get-rich scheme that failed,” Raúl said.

“Huh?”

“Investors spread those trees all over California in the late 1800s, hoping they could use them for timber projects. They grew fast, but shrank and cracked when they cured the lumber.”

“Interesting.”

“Goes to show you can’t always predict what’s going to happen. Things aren’t always what they appear to be. Decisions you make one year don’t fit you the next.”

“Are you talking about the trees or my life?”

“What do you think?”

At the top of the rise near Watsonville, strawberry fields covered rolling hills to the ocean sand. There were people who lived their entire lives in this one small area, like many of her grandmother’s neighbors. Were they too afraid to go over the mountains or across the bay? Or had they been content with what God had given them?

“I don’t know what to think. Or do. I don’t want to have a lot of debt when I leave college. In fact, I’d only planned on getting a two-year degree.”

“You can start there. Just take classes that enable you to go on to a university.”

“But that doesn’t prepare me to make a living. What if I never go on? All those classes will be a waste.”

“Nothing’s ever a waste, Alicia. Every piece of your life, no matter how difficult, matters in the end.” His voice held a note of surprise.

“What’s up?” She looked around to see if someone had had a fender-bender in the slow-moving line of cars.

“Nothing out there.” He tapped his chest. “In here. That’s the first time I’ve looked at anything that way, including my own life. While the experience may be terrible, it’s how I deal with it that makes the difference. For years, I’ve been angry with the government for deporting my parents and leaving me with that wretched excuse for an uncle.”

“And now?”

His smile was broad, and he grasped her hand. “Now? Now I think I’ll try love.”

“How is your grandmother?” Elizabeth asked Alicia as soon as she walked into the store the next day.

Raúl had agreed to take Luis for a few hours so she could check in with Elizabeth and run some errands. Her mother had protested, but Alicia had been firm. She really needed to do something about her relationship with her mother.

“
Abuela
’s getting better. She’s ordering everyone around.”

“That’s usually a good clue.” Elizabeth chuckled.

“How’s Dylan doing?” She leaned against the counter, trying to look at ease.

“Working out fine. She’s coming in this afternoon so I can go help Marcos with the vineyard. Harvest isn’t too far away.”

Although August had just arrived, already the hints of fall had made their presence known. The fog, heavy in July, clung to the bay’s edges in August. School shopping was in full swing, while at the same time, traffic to the shore increased as the valley tech workers and college students eked out their last moments of freedom.

“Have you been able to attend your classes?”

“Yes. Raúl’s been taking care of Luis on my class nights.”

“Oh?”

Alicia rearranged some lotions on one of the shelves. “We’ve become close again.”

“Whatever happened at the Fourth of July picnic got resolved?”

“Yes.”

“So what’s bothering you?”

She sighed and flopped onto the Victorian sofa by the window. “I had this great plan ...”

“And now?” Elizabeth poured water laced with cucumber slices and ice from a pitcher into two glasses.

“Thanks.” Alicia drank thirstily, unaware of how parched she’d been.

“It’s the business class, isn’t it? You don’t like it.”

“Not a whole lot. In fact, it’s pretty boring.”

“Especially stacked next to sociology.”

“Something like that.”

The doorbell clanged, and a middle-aged woman in highly pressed slacks walked in. “Oh, what a cute little store.”

When she started to browse, Elizabeth gave a small shrug. “Stay. We can finish our talk after we’re done.”

Alicia nodded.

By the time the woman left, she had taken several samples of Elizabeth’s skin-care line and a brochure.

“Another convert,” Alicia said.

“Yes. To me, that’s one of the most exciting parts of running this store—getting women to understand little things can make a big difference. It’s my passion.” She patted Alicia’s hand. “But it doesn’t look to be yours. Do you have any idea what you want from life?”

“I was kind of handed something to care about.”

“Luis.”

“Yes. Raúl and I went to the childcare center yesterday and talked to them about Asperger’s kids. They were really interested. It made me feel good—like I wasn’t only helping Luis, I was helping other kids and families.” Her pulse increased. “And I’m working with my professor to set up a support group. It scares me to death—what do I know about support groups? But Dr. Susan said she’ll help me. And even give me extra credit.” She wanted to bounce up and down like a little kid. “There’s so much that needs to be done. I can make a difference.”

Elizabeth’s smile held a tinge of sadness.

“Oh,” Alicia whispered. “You were counting on me. I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for me. After what my mother did to you, that was so good of you. And now I’m going to let you down, too.”

“Too? You haven’t let me down, Alicia. If anything, you’ve exceeded my expectations. I didn’t know how you’d turn out.”

“Yeah. I was already pregnant at sixteen—a failure.”

“Actually, it was the nose ring and the hummingbird tattoo that frightened me.”

She gave Elizabeth a quick glance. A half smile played on her boss’s face.

“Pretty scary in your world.” The nose ring had disappeared within a few months, but she was still proud of her skin art.

“When you started here, before you had Luis, it was a desperate move. You were so young. Two years may not seem like much, but a lot has happened in those two years, and your life perspective is very different. It makes sense that your goal for the future has changed.”

“I wish I could go to school full-time.”

“It’s something to consider, but you’re the only one who can make that happen.” Elizabeth smiled. Then she was quiet. Something had shifted in their conversation, as if she had withdrawn to another place.

“What’s wrong?” Alicia asked.

“Nothing.”

Alicia’s throat tightened. Should she push it?

She put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm.

Her boss turned, her eyes glistening.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

“Change is always difficult, even when you know what’s happening. Moving on is the best for you.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It also frees me to make a decision I’ve been thinking about. I’m going to sell the shop.”

Her stomach plunged. The lifeline to her old life would be gone.

“Don’t look like that,” Elizabeth said. “It’s not going to happen immediately. There are things that have to be done.”

“What about your products?”

“I’m finally getting into the small boutiques I always wanted, particularly in Europe. The company I’ve hired to produce the line is working out well, so much of that is managing itself. With the income up, I can hire a distribution team. The business is running itself.”

“That’s great for you!”

“Yes. I’ll have more time to travel with Marcos.” Her smile lit up her eyes.

“How did you know? I mean, why did you think he’d be right for you? After … Joe? And all that time alone?”

“I guess I knew there was something there from the moment I met him. He was different from anyone I’d ever met, yet so familiar I thought I’d known him all my life.”

Yes.
Her spirits lifted. Raúl had the same effect on her.

“Won’t you miss the shop?”

“In some ways, but I’ve learned that changes often bring a loss of some kind, as well as the freedom to try something new—kind of like the Chinese symbol for crisis, a combination of danger and opportunity.”

Alicia laughed, but the sound had a thread of nervousness. Danger and opportunity described almost every aspect of her life. Raúl could turn out to be too controlling or too secretive. She could get a scholarship or not. Her dream to become an advocate for Asperger’s kids could be an amazing success ... or a total failure.

• • •

“Our immediate objective is to defeat Joe Wilson’s proposal,” Peter Ramanos said.

Raúl wondered how he planned to do that but didn’t want to ask the question. He was too new to the movement.

“We must work together ... and find others to work with us,” an older Anglo woman said. Rumor was she’d worked with Cesar Chavez in the United Farm Workers organization.

“But how do we find them?” a young man, wired with energy, asked.

“Cesar said if you really want to make a friend, go to someone's house and eat with him.”

“So we invite ourselves to a lot of people’s houses?” The young man’s scorn irritated Raúl.

“Sometimes.” The woman’s smile said she’d heard the tone many times before and had risen above the ignorance youth sometimes brought.

“How about a potluck—a picnic?” another voice contributed.

“That could work,” Peter said.

Soon the place was abuzz with ideas and lists. Raúl found himself volunteering to distribute flyers in the northern part of town and Costanoa. Juan could help while he was at work.

A flicker of fear teased his mind. Was Juan getting too comfortable in Watsonville? If he was too visible, would the feds catch on and send him back to Mexico?

Lately, Juan had been restless. He complained about being trapped in a life that was going nowhere. He’d hinted it might be time to go south, consequences be damned. Raúl had talked him out of it, but he wasn’t sure how long Juan would last without something to do.

He forced his mind back to the meeting. There wasn’t anything he could do about Juan, no matter how much he wanted to. These were things out of his control.

“We need to get some of the more established Latino families to come to the event,” Peter said. “Some of them are conservative and would vote for this bill.”

“Don’t forget progressive Anglos,” the former UFW associate said. “They will support your cause.”

“Not only the progressives, Debbie,” Peter said. “People who believe in fair treatment of children exist across the spectrum. We just need to present the problem the right way.”

Another discussion ensued. This time, Raúl took a more active part. Finally, they hammered out their message.

“When we talk about this, we need to maintain control of our emotions,” Peter said, looking directly at him. “No matter what we think, we need to avoid getting angry with the person we’re talking to. Anger doesn’t solve problems. If we keep the focus on the objective, we will not be defeated.”

His own anger had cost him an opportunity to find out why the man would sponsor a bill to remove services from children. There had to be a reason. From what he’d learned, the man was rich by farmworker standards but earned far less than his technology peers across the hill.