A Soldier’s Family (14 page)

S
he couldn’t have shown up at a worse time.

Through a crack in the brocade drapes, Manny watched Celia trudge across Joel’s yard.

She looked like a Latina Red Riding Hood donned in a long red cape. A fuzzy crimson hood pulled over her head lent her a childish appeal. Rings of black curls spilled beneath it.

Snow dusted her rosy cheeks. She blinked white flakes off long eyelashes. Shiny black boots carried her across a white blanket of sparkling snow. Gloved hands carried a small wooden basket by the handle. She studied the ground as she walked.

He wondered if he could pretend not to be home. Today was not a good day. Loneliness consumed him as did boredom. Not to mention he’d battled one of the heaviest spiritual assaults on his mind since turning his life over to Christ. His self-control had been a casualty.

Visiting Joel and Amber’s church had helped, but that was only one day a week, two if he got up the nerve to go on Wednesdays.

Manny wished Celia would go, and bring Javier. He understood why she had a hard time putting herself out there. He was certain Refuge Community Church’s family would provide stability and support. Manny thought it odd she wouldn’t try for Javier’s sake, but he guessed she had hang-ups just as he did.

His was guilt but he was working on that. He’d gotten prayer for it Sunday. The partial release he experienced afterward made him all the more determined to encourage Celia and Javier to seek prayer. He’d prayed hard all week for God to move her heart to want to come to church.

And now she stood in the yard, looking up at the two-story structure. As if half expecting Frankenstein to answer the door, trepidation lined her features.

Why?

He knew instinctually how hard it was to maintain a steady, stable walk without a good church home. Obviously, Celia’s childhood church experience hadn’t been like his. Well, here she was, knocking on the door.

Manny ambled to it, using his cane. He held the door open a stitch and peered out. “Yes?”

She shivered on the steps. “Javier doesn’t happen to be here, does he?”

Manny shook his head. “No, why?”

“He’s running late. I thought maybe he stopped by here.” She glanced up and down the street. For a second he thought she’d turn to go, but she faced him again. “May I come in?”

“For a minute. I have things to do.” Such as eat popcorn and blitz out in front of the TV.
And be bored out of my mind and feel sorry for myself because my team’s on a mission and I’m not. Not to mention beat myself up because I failed miserably at being a Christian today
.

Okay, so maybe he could use some company. Too much time spent with himself obviously drove him nutty.

Manny opened the door.

She breezed past, her perfume awakening his senses.

He pulled in a steady breath, then swallowed. “Can I take your cloak?” He made no motion to do so, and tried to appear less than enthused so maybe she’d get the hint and hit the road.

No such luck. She moved farther inside.

He sighed and stretched an arm to help with her cloak.

She stepped from his reach. “Got it, thanks.” She peeled the thing off and draped it on the wooden coat rack near the front door. The garment smelled of her.

He moved away from it and folded his arms across his chest, trying to breathe as shallow as possible and survive.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me to sit down? I had a long walk.” She flashed a cheeky grin.

He refused to let it affect him or elicit a reaction, though it proved quite a challenge. Manny led the way to the family room. “Have a seat. I’ll make hot chocolate.”

“And I’ll annoy you by helping.” Celia transferred the basket from the sofa table to the kitchen counter. “Speaking of hot chocolate, here’s a winter gift basket for you.”

Suspicious, Manny eyed the basket. “What for?”

She shrugged. “Just because.”

He peeked inside. Peppermints and red-and-white-striped candy canes fenced rows of hot-cocoa packets that rested on a gold-and-green-striped towel. No marshmallows though. “Thanks.”

Celia had two cups out and water on to boil by the time Manny closed the basket.

“I usually make homemade but I get the feeling you’re not up for company. I’ll make the quickie kind while I say rude things to make you feel guilty, then get out of your hair.”

He almost grinned.

Sliding sounds permeated the air as she poured packets of dark powder into cups. She wiped her hands off with a towel and faced Manny. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

He made a play of eyeing his watch, though the battery met its demise days ago. “Fine. I’ll humor you. Why are you here?”

She extended a cup of hot cocoa toward him. “I want you to take my son skydiving. And I want to come to church with you.”

Manny leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Since he never took the cup, she set it on the counter with a
clunk.
“Manny, this is
really
hard for me. You have no idea.” Her lips and hands trembled but her eyes and words remained steady and direct.

“Wait. Wait.” Manny laughed. “Did you just say you want me to take Javier
skydiving?
”

“Yes.” She paled. “Well, not by himself. I mean, can’t you strap him to you or some weird thing like Joel did to Amber on their first date?”

Manny looped a thumb in his jeans’ pocket and grinned. “You mean, the one when she compromised his hearing because she did the shriek-’n-flail all the way down? That would be called a tandem jump.”

“Yeah, that.”

“And you want to come to church?” he asked, wanting to be certain his own hearing wasn’t in question.

She nodded, looking everywhere but at him.

Talk about double divine bombshells. Good ones, though. Profound thankfulness consumed him as his mind shuffled through her requests.

God actually heard his prayers. And acted on them.

It actually worked to change a human heart.

Maybe Joel was right. Maybe Manny didn’t have to be experienced at prayer for it to work or for God to hear him.

“Wow.” Manny thought he might need to sit down.

She pushed her sweater sleeves up. “Just ‘wow’?”

He crossed the ankle of his good leg over the injured one. “Celia, I do know how hard this is on you. I just want to be sure you’re not making these decisions out of haste.”

Her arms took off again. “You better take me up on it before I change my mind.” Hands to hips now, she scowled at him in typical Celia style. Now, that was more like it.

He grinned.

How he’d missed the little fireball this week.

“Well! Are you gonna do it or not?” It came through her mouth more as a demand than a question. And what a mouth. He wanted to kiss her and warm it up.

Manny shook his head to clear the memory of how good and right she felt tucked in his arms.

Today was definitely a bad day for her to be here. He’d been tempted in every way possible. Even watched a show he knew his eyes shouldn’t partake in. He’d been fighting off ultrasensual images all day for it, too.

“Well?” She stomped. Snow dusted the wood floor in a perfect white oval around her boot. Small foot. He hadn’t realized that before, just how petite she was. The perfect size for him. The perfect challenge.

He needed her fire. Life became too boring without her every-five-minute flare-ups. Where’d she been all his life? He determined to win her heart, right then and there.

Peace engulfed him instead of self-loathing and guilt and self-abasing thoughts that he didn’t deserve another family. Manny began to wonder if God may have sabotaged his parachute that day a few months ago. Something felt so right about this. So…he hated to put a religious term on it, but so…
ordained.
It fit. Like this was meant to be. Some might term it
fate,
but Manny now knew the hand that dealt it.

Only he’d had it all wrong before. The hand was full of mercy and compassion and loving kindness. Not punishment and wrath and guilt and shame.

Manny laughed. “There’s just something funny about this.”

“What?” Her scowl deepened.

So did his chuckle. “You coming in here and ordering me to take your son skydiving.”

“Manny, I feel like such a failure. I’m here to confess I need help with my son. He was heading off the deep end before you came along. I’m more scared for him to fall back into that than where his admiration of you may lead. I see joy in him when you’re around. He’s even been reading his Bible, something he hasn’t done since his father died.” Her chin quivered. “I’m no good as a single mother. I—I think I may have ruined him.”

Manny didn’t know what came over him. He only knew the fallen look on her face said more than words ever could. She felt like a failure as a parent, and he knew the torture of that feeling all too well.

Before he thought better, he closed the space between them and pulled her into his arms. “It’s not your fault. He has choices.”

She stiffened in his arms. “But I—”

“No, Celia. Stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’ve lived a lifetime doing it.” He released the hug and set her at a safe distance. He wanted to show support and comfort. Let her know he would be here for her without making her feel like he was hitting on her. Even though today he was sorely tempted.

She leaned back, grinning. “You’re a fine one to talk.”

He loved the fire in her words. “I missed you something fierce this week.” Whoops. Had he meant to say that out loud?

Her eyes rounded and her cheeks flushed. “You mean, Javier?”

He pulled her close again, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Of course. But I missed you, too.” His chest and voice tightened.

In a flash, the kitchen seemed too small and private and too dark. Much as Manny wanted to hold on to Celia for all she was worth, he couldn’t or he’d end up kissing her again. He gave her shoulders one quick squeeze and set her away. “Let’s talk over cocoa. I need to keep an eye on the weather.”
And a short leash on my self-control.

Sincerity glistened in her eyes as she stepped to the counter. “Thank you, Manny.”

He let her pass with cocoa. “For what?”

“For letting me in. Making me feel better.” She set the cups on two coasters and plopped down on the couch.

Pondering her words, he sat beside her, leaving a fair amount of space between them. He sensed her “let me in” phrasing meant more metaphorically than just him opening the literal door to her this evening. Manny sipped cocoa, wishing he had some marshmallows to melt in it. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. Thick, black curls spilled over and through her slender fingers. It took every ounce of willpower not to brush even a fingertip over the silky mass to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

Wild and untamed hair compared to today’s trendy styles, yet it suited Celia and fit her personality. From her Southwestern house decor to pointy-toed shoes to her red-tapered nails to her suitcase of a purse to dense, dark hair and classy clothes, everything was distinctly Celia.

After a moment when she didn’t look up, he bent forward to peer at her. As if sensing his close proximity, she turned her head sideways. He noticed right away her moist palms and eyes smudged with makeup that hadn’t held up under tears.

The Latina fireball who prided herself in never crying, especially in front of people, sat here bawling her makeup off.

Manny set his cocoa down.

This was serious.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad.” He took a chance and reached for her hand, surprised when she let him.

“I—He. Oh, boy.” She blew out a breath, lifting curls off that spot where the cute freckle resided. “I don’t even have guts to tell you this.”

Manny chuckled at how her hand swung his all over the place. He doubted she could talk without moving them.

Her face went back in her hand and his, since their fingers remained entwined. “I may have royally messed up. He insisted he needed to go check on a friend, but he refused to tell me who the friend is. I’m having a hard time trusting him. He says I can’t see that he’s trying. The pipe I found in the closet?”

“Yes.”

“Javier swears it’s not his.”

Ouch. Pings of guilt hit Manny because he already knew that. Javier had confided much about Enrique. How Javier kept it so Enrique couldn’t smoke it. Also as incentive to never do drugs. A visual reminder to pray for the son not to turn out like the father. Celia still didn’t know the short kid from the restaurant and Joseph’s murderer’s son were one in the same.

Manny fought a guilty fidget but remained in listen mode so she’d continue. While she sipped cocoa, Manny recalled things Javier had confided. Such as that his classmates had pointed Enrique out. Javier had seen how the other kids treated him and had felt sorry for him. But Enrique, knowing who Javier was, had avoided him. So Javier had applied at the restaurant, knowing Enrique worked there then befriended him. Javier had realized that the kid had lost his father the day of the murder, too. Not to death, but to prison bars.

“I let him go to the friend, and he hasn’t returned when he said he would,” Celia finally said. “What if I trusted him and something happened? Or what if he pulled a fast one on me?”

Manny didn’t think so, but how to convince Celia of it. No wonder Enrique had looked like a crab ready to molt when he’d had to bus the table next to Celia. How much could Manny tell her without breaking Javier’s confidentiality?

“Celia, I spoke with Javier about the pipe. I don’t honestly think he’s drugging.”

“But he was smoking outside the restaurant.”

“He was.” Javier had said for a few weeks he’d tried to drug his grief into oblivion. Then he’d discovered Enrique was way worse off than he, and had also started drugging to cope with the pain and shame his father’s crime brought on the family. Enrique and his mother felt shunned by the entire town. Seeing the effect it had on Enrique had repelled Javier from drugs. Not to mention Javier had promised his dad before he died to avoid them.