Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (22 page)

"Mari is
not
injured. He twisted her arm behind her back, so she's gonna have a bruise but-"

When he would have risen from the chair, Sharon gently eased him back. "But we have another problem."

Jeff stilled, finally hearing the urgency in her voice. "W-what is it?"

"Luz is coming this afternoon. I had to hit Marisol with the news right after the Phil episode."

He swore violently, then remembered the older woman's presence. "Jeez— I'm sorry Sharon."

"It's okay, Stud. Those are my sentiments exactly." She rested against the edge of the conference room table. "So— here's the deal. If you go in there all fired up about the Phil thing-"

"Hell, Sharon. I'm sick about it. I wasn't here. She could've-" Jeff shuddered at the possibilities.

"I know, Jeff. But right now, Marisol is terrified. If you go in there yelling about Phil— you're not going to be able to help her get through this afternoon. She's this close to losing it." Sharon held her fingers an inch apart. "I need you to talk her down. Reassure her she's not going to lose Hector."

Dispelling a ragged breath, Jeff wrestled for control. Sharon was right. He was jacked up. With fear. With anger. And guilt— for not being there when it happened. But none of those emotions would help Mari. From the fear roiling his gut, he needed to somehow summon calm.

"You're . . . you're right." Meeting her gaze, he nodded. "I can't show her how scared I was. I need to focus on her."

"Luz is coming here at four. That means Mari can get Hector from the bus and walk him back here to the daycare before she arrives." Her voice was a low, reassuring buzz in his brain. Soothing, yet focused. "We'd rather Luz not know any of the particulars about Hector's routine-"

"Because she could still pull something, right?"

Sharon scowled. "I assume Mari explained what happened once before?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Jeff nodded. "How do you do this job, Sharon?"

"Not every situation is this bad. Lots of mothers leave here successful . . . they land jobs, they take care of their kids and they move on with their lives." Her eyes reflected a weary history. "Those stories help us get through days like today— with Phil trying to hurt Annie. And Luz— unwilling to let her son be placed with a capable person who clearly loves him."

"I need to see Mari." Rising slowly, he squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Sharon. I promise I'll do my best to be helpful."

"I know you will, Stud."       

***

Worried how he would find her, Jeff entered her office cautiously. After Sharon's description, he assumed he'd find Marisol weeping hysterically. Instead, she was quiet . . . gazing out the window. Almost deceptively calm. Unsure what he should do, he crossed the room and pulled up a chair.

"Mari, honey? Are you alright?"

Barely acknowledging him, Marisol continued to stare out the window. "I don't have any tears left. I guess that's a good sign."

Why wouldn't she look at him? "Sharon wanted to remind you about Hector getting off the bus." Checking his watch, he paused. "That's in thirty minutes. Why don’t I go with you?"

"I don't know."

The defeat in her voice sliced through him. "Honey— can you look at me?" When she didn't respond, Jeff sighed. He was about to enter uncharted waters. Comforting someone he cared about— and not knowing what the hell to say. "I know . . . you're scared. I know it all seems hopeless. And I— know I can't . . . change any of that," he admitted. What was he doing? Hell— he was supposed to be making it better. But how could
anyone
make this better? "The truth is . . . I'm scared, too. I don't want to imagine your life without Hector in it. But, Marisol— we're not going to let that happen."

Still nothing. It was as though she had built an impenetrable wall around herself. As though it somehow might stop her from feeling pain or fear. "Let me help you, Mari. Please? Let me in, love. Can you look at me?"

Her gaze finally dropping from the window, she turned slowly toward him. "I can't keep doing this, Jeff." Her voice was a painful whisper. "I can't bear it. She does such a number on Hector when she shows up. She works him over-"

"We can help Hector get through this," he reminded. "No matter what she says . . . we'll be there to counteract her words. We love him. That means we can protect him." Cautiously, Jeff slid closer. "Let's do this together," he suggested. "If you just lean on me, Mari— I swear I won't let you fall. I'll be there with you . . every step of the way."

Relief coursed through him when she finally nodded. Helping her stand, Jeff took her carefully in his arms. For the first time since meeting her, Marisol seemed vulnerable. Isolated. As though the world was crushing in on her.

For a long time, Jeff just held her, not saying a word. There was nothing he could say to make the ordeal better. There was only hope that by doing it together, he would help her get through it. When it was finally time to meet the bus, Jeff led the way, Mari's fingers locked tight in his.

***

Hector was thrilled to see Jeff waiting for him at the bus stop. Trusting him completely, he launched himself into Jeff's arms, completely skipping the last two steps off the bus.

"Carino— you shouldn’t leap off the bus like that. What if Jeff wasn't looking?" Offering a wave to the smiling bus driver, Marisol knew her scolding was pointless. But she'd learned that focusing on normal, everyday activities helped her cope with the dread of dealing with Luz. It also helped mute her worried vibe so her mood wouldn't affect Hector.

"Jeff was lookin' right at me. How could he miss?"

Forcing a lightheartedness she didn't feel, Marisol smiled. "What if he dropped you?"

Hoisting Hector in one arm, Jeff smiled. "With these biceps? Honey— get serious."

Giggling, Hector flexed his arms. "When I get old, I'm gonna have big guns just like Jeff."

"Old?" Jeff shot him an exaggerated grimace. "Dude— you're killin' me."

Hector leaned against him. "I meant big," he corrected. "When I'm
big
like you."

"Guns?" Giving Jefferson the once over, Mari relaxed a notch, his playful mood proving infectious. "Already, you've taught him that terminology?"   

His expression sheepish, Jeff captured her nervous fingers with his free hand. "Gotta have strong arms to power the ball into the outfield, right Hec?"

"Jeff says if I eat a bunch 'a spinach, I'll be able to swing the bat so hard— it'll bust open the baseball."

She smiled over his boast. "I see you're employing the Popeye method of strength training?"

"Hey— it worked for me," Jeff admitted. "I ate tons of vegetables because of that cartoon." Mari couldn’t help noticing how wonderful it felt— his sturdy hand holding hers, Hector snuggled safely against his chest, giggling as Jeff told silly jokes. His magic worked on her as well. Instead of locked in worry over what the next few hours would bring, Mari was smiling, soothed by Jeff's easygoing confidence. Making her laugh. Making her happy.

Any passerby watching them would smile over the idyllic scene, the perfect little family. Because they were perfect together. Jefferson was so at ease with Hector. Marisol had no trouble envisioning him behind a stroller— or with a sweet, tiny infant cradled in his arms. At one of the most stressful moments of her life— not knowing yet what game Luz played, it occurred to her that Jeff was the man she wanted by her side as she endured it. This was the man she wanted to spend her life with.

The discovery made her even more appreciative of his reassuring presence. Raising their entwined fingers to her lips, she pressed a kiss to his hand, letting him feel her smile. "Strong arms can be useful," she admitted, "for many things in life."

***

Chapter 10

"What happens next?" Jeff waited while Mari closed the door to the daycare before he spoke.

Pausing to watch Hector chat with Miss Robin, Marisol smiled. His earnest brown eyes were wide and animated as Hector relayed a story to his teacher. "We wait."

"When do you tell Hector that Luz wants to see him?"

Marisol sighed, drifting from the door. "When she actually appears at the door. Half the time, Luz never shows." Nodding toward her office, they walked together. "About a year ago, we stopped telling Hector when she might be visiting."

Jeff hesitated beside her. "What was he— four?"

"It did more damage than good. He was old enough to understand. He'd get excited— thinking she would be . . . better. Normal. That she finally wanted to be his mom." Mari sensed his body tensing next to her. "All it did was get Hector's hopes up. Then, he'd be devastated when she didn't come. Or worse— Luz
would
show up. Filling his head with lies before she disappeared again." Resting her back against the corridor wall, she acknowledged Jeff's sober expression. "Weeks after a visit, Hector would still be asking when Luz was coming back for him. . . because she'd promised— that next time she'd take him home."

"How is he so happy? Still smiling. Still laughing. He's the most amazing kid, Mari."

She knew exactly how Jeff felt. "I think it actually helps that he was so young when this all started. Hector was only two when DSS got him the first time. He was three when I started fostering him." Mari's smile was troubled. "I guess we're lucky he doesn't know any different."

"So— we just wait? We can't just— tell her to go to hell? I want . . . a judge who will finally listen." Pulling her against him, Jeff held her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm not exactly helping by talking this way."

Loving the reassuring sound of his heartbeat under her ear, Mari lifted her head. "You've helped a great deal. This afternoon— I was . . . lost. You got me back on track." Resting against him, she sighed. "On a terrible day— you had me laughing . . . feeling joy." Her gaze met his as her voice dropped. "I'd say that was pretty amazing."

"I don't know how you've done this for so long. It needs to end."

Absently, she rubbed her aching forearm, wincing when she brushed over the tender spot. Probably, she should have iced it longer— but there hadn't been time.

"Is that where he-"

Forgetting that Jeff was watching so closely, Mari startled, lowering her arm. "It's just sore. Maybe a little bruise."

The flash of anger in Jeff's vivid, green eyes did not match the softness of his voice when he finally spoke. "Mari— for your sake— and
only
your sake," he clarified, "I'm filing this away until later."

Weariness seeping through her very bones, Marisol couldn't summon the energy to placate him. "Good, because I need to pretend to get back to work while we wait for Luz to show up." Just thinking about it made her pulse tick up. "And I may need you to talk me down again later."

In a heartbeat, Jeff's expression softened. "I'll be right here," he promised. "And— under the circumstances, I think we need to do something
seriously
fun tonight."

"Seriously fun sounds great." Delivered to her office door, Mari was once again amazed by his ability to soothe her. Together, they would get through this.

***

Hector was quiet that evening. While Marisol seemed to take his mood in stride, it bothered Jeff. Mari had been through this before— probably a dozen times. But
he
hadn't. The meeting with Luz had been disturbing. Unsettling. Clutching Marisol's hand as they watched Luz on a closed circuit television, Jeff had experienced a degree of helplessness he'd never known was possible.

A strung out woman, shaking with nerves, or more likely the need for a fix— as Mari had corrected him, was in a room down the hall from where they sat. Making demands of the DSS staff person sitting with Hector. Sweet, vulnerable Hector. Sitting across from a weepy, defiant, belligerent shell of a woman. Who was
supposed
to be his mother.

Jeff was surprised to realize he knew how to read the little boy. Hec's eyes had held the shimmer of confusion— of
wanting
to like his mother, yet also fearing her because she was acting so strange. His body language had been guarded— as though he half expected her to leap over the table at him. It would go down in memory as one of the hardest things he'd ever endured— sitting there with Mari . . . helpless . . . while Hector was subjected to the ranting of a crazy woman.

"Hey bud, wanna go out and throw the ball around? We still have time before it gets dark." He needed to move— walk—
anything
to shake off the remnants of that dreary image. More than anything, Jeff wanted to help the little boy feel better. Feel safe and secure. But that was probably the last thing he could provide at the moment.

Hector set aside his toy soldiers. "Could we take a walk? Like . . . just you and me?"

Glancing toward the kitchen, where Mari was putting away the brownies they'd just devoured, he called out to her. Her head appeared around the doorway, as though she'd heard their conversation. "Go ahead. But Hector needs his bath in twenty minutes."

Pretending not to see the worry etched on her features, Jeff forced a smile. "Come on, Hec. Let's take a spin around the block. But I'm warning you— after that gigantic brownie sundae, you might have to carry me part of the way home."

The little guy rewarded him with an impish smile. "Don't worry. I had three broccolis for dinner, so my muscles are already growin'. I'll carry you."

"Make sure to take Jeff's hand when you're in the street, carino." Mari turned hastily back toward the kitchen, but not before Jeff spied the glimmer of tears in her eyes. And maybe for the first time, he finally understood
exactly
how she felt.

Dusk was settling as they left the house, the sweet scent of jasmine blanketing the humid air with its perfume. As Hector's fingers slipped into his hand, Jeff felt a corresponding ache settle in his chest. "You okay tonight, Hec?"

Hector's gaze was focused on the street, his eyes seeking out anything unusual in their path. Jeff followed his lead as they drifted first to a pebble he wanted to kick, then a stick. His expression excited, he picked it up. "We should keep this, Jeff. When we go to the park, we could drop it in the stream and watch it float."

"Why don't I put it in my pocket for you?"

Handing it to him, Hector hesitated, his mind clearly on bigger issues. "Sometimes— seein' her makes me sad."

Five minutes in— and Jeff was already out of his depth. Pausing as he searched for the right words, he finally gave up. There were no
good
words for this situation. "I think whatever you feel is okay to feel."

"What if I feel . . . mad?" Little fingers fluttered anxiously in his hand.

Squeezing his hand, Jeff turned Hector to face him. Then dropped to his haunches. It was suddenly very important that he be able to look him in the eye. "Hec— I think you're the bravest, coolest, smartest boy I've ever met." His gaze was unwavering as he stared into unhappy brown eyes that had seen far too much in five years. "If you feel mad— I think you've gotta go with it. But— being mad without knowing
why
doesn't help get rid of it."

"What do you mean?"

Spying a bench as they neared the playground, Jeff nodded to it. "Let's sit for a minute, okay?"

Settling on the park bench, Jeff scooped the little boy into his lap. "When I was a little older than you, I got really mad at my dad because he took my older brother to a baseball game— and he didn't take me."

Hector's eyes widened. "Didn't he like you?"

Jeff smiled. "He liked me a lot. But he thought I was too young to go to the game so he only took Jake. He told my mom he would take me the next year. But I didn't know that part." He paused as Hector settled back against his chest. "So— I got mad . . . and I stayed mad for a whole week after the game. And it made me quiet and sad-"

"Did you cry?"

"I did— almost every night in my room," he confessed. "But here's what I learned from that. When my dad finally figured out I was mad at him— he asked what was bugging me. And when I told him how angry I was about the ballgame, my dad was floored."

"What do you mean?"

"It means— my dad never
knew
how angry I was. He said if I'd only told him what was bothering me— he would have fixed it sooner." He tipped Hector's chin up to look at him. "So— I was mad for a week, but I held it all inside. So— no one could help me fix it. And no one could make me feel better."

"What did your dad do after that?"

Jeff released a steadying breath, praying he was getting his point across. Was he doing the right thing? "He sat me down and told me he was sorry that he'd hurt my feelings."

"So— telling your dad made you feel better?"

"Telling my dad made me feel way, way better." He gave Hector's hand a squeeze. "And once he knew how I felt, he took me to a game the following week— just me and my dad."

"What if— the thing you're mad about is really, really big?"

Swallowing around the lump in this throat, Jeff winced. "Then you should tell someone you trust. Because, maybe that person could help you feel better."

"Can I tell you?"

His whispered request had Jeff's heart plummeting to the pit of his stomach. "You can tell me anything, Hec. Always."

"I . . . don't like that lady— and I know . . . I'm supposed to." Hector's confession came out on an anguished whisper. "An'. . . I don't wanna see her again. She's scary and mean."

Throwing his shuddering frame into his chest, Jeff caught him in a tight hug. "It's alright, buddy. It's
okay
to be mad at her. And it's okay to not like her."

"It is? Are you sure?"

"Sometimes people want to be good— but they're not strong enough to be nice. Being mean is easy."

"Is being nice hard?"

"It's more work," Jeff explained. "Because you’re thinking about the other person instead of just yourself. Like remembering to say please and thank you, right?"

"But people like when you do that. Mari says I have to be polite."

"Mari is absolutely right. But some people don't like being nice. And when they realize they're mean— they take it out on other people so they don't feel bad about themselves." Jeff paused, searching for an example he would understand. "Like a bully. They act mean because they're afraid you won't like them the way they really are. So they'd rather have you be afraid of them."  

Hector's head popped up from his shoulder. "You mean like Tommy and Jason's daddy? He was mean to them." 

"Exactly. Tommy's dad doesn't want to make the effort to be nice'"

"Or polite," Hector interrupted.

"So, what I'm telling you Hec, is that it's okay to not like that woman. But you shouldn't waste time being afraid of her."

"But she's scary-"

"Bud— you're gonna have to trust me on this one, okay?" With everything he had, Jeff didn't want Hector to be afraid. "We won't let her hurt you. I promise."

"But— if she ever did . . ."

Jeff realized that simply telling him not to worry wouldn’t stop Hector from being afraid. He needed to feel in control. "Okay— here's what you're gonna do," he directed. "If she ever scares you—
ever
, then you have my permission to be mean."

His eyes widened. "Mari would get mad at me."

Jeff shook his head. What the hell? Let him feel empowered. "Mari would want you to fight back. If that woman ever scares you— then you can do
anything
you want to fight her. You can yell
really
loud. You can punch. You can kick."

Hector's shoulders began shaking with his laughter. "Can I . . . bite?"

"Yup."

"Scream?"

"The louder the better."

"Spit in her eye?"

Chuckling, Jeff gave him a squeeze. "If your aim is good- go for it." When Hector finally stopped laughing, Jeff settled him against him. "But you won't need to do any of those things because there are lots of people watching out for you."

"She wiggles too much an' she talks funny— like she's goin' too fast." Stifling a yawn, he paused. "We get in trouble at school if we don't sit still." Hector slung his arms around his neck. "I want Mari to be my mommy."

Rising to his feet, Jeff planted a kiss on his forehead. "Mari loves being your mom."

"She's nice to me. An' she never yells at me. And she cooks good. And I like my room— and all my stuff."

"Pretty soon, she'll be your mom forever."

Hector went slack in his arms. "Can you carry me back, Jeff?"

"I thought you ate three broccolis?" Hector's sticky smile brushed against his neck, filling Jeff with a sense of contentment he'd never experienced before.