Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (7 page)

“I’m full up to here,” he said and held his hand just beneath his nose. “But for Santos, no sacrifice is too great. What did you make, pal?”

The proud expression on the boy’s face touched Cluny’s heart. “Brigadeiros! My most favorite. Mama let me make them all by myself today.”

“I can’t wait to try it.”

Graciella stood. “It will be better if we wait for a while. Isn’t it time for you men to take Queen for that walk?” She locked eyes with Cluny. “And talk?”

Cluny rose and took his plate. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s help your mom clear up the table first, OK?”

“No, please. I can accomplish it much faster without stumbling over the two of you. Go. Have your walk.” She nodded. “Take your time.”

He understood she expected him to use the opportunity to talk to Santos about Marv. About the war. She excluded herself from the man-to-man conversation. He set the plate down. “I never did like to pull KP duty. Let’s go, sailor, before she changes her mind.”

“What’s KP duty, Macfearsome?”

They walked to the front door of the apartment. “Kitchen Police. It’s the only part of being a Marine I didn’t like.” He turned and tilted his head at Graciella before closing the door.

Queen popped up at the sound of his voice when they approached his car. He unlocked the doors, let her out, and attached the leash to her collar. “You hold her while I check her water.” Reaching low, he lifted the nearly empty stainless steel pan from the floor of the back. “My water jug is empty.”

“Over there.” Santos pointed to the corner of the building. “Want me to show you?”

“Nope. They don’t want dogs on the property, so you stay right here.” He made his way to the corner of the building and found the spigot. After filling the empty plastic jug, he carried it back to the car. Santos was on his knees, scratching Queen’s ears and talking nonsense to her. Her tail whipped at the boy’s attention.

Cluny placed the water in the car and stood. “OK, let’s take this lady for a nice long walk. I have some things to tell you.”

The boy’s head popped up. “You do? About what?”

“Your dad and the war.” He walked ahead of them, allowing Santos to hold the leash. Queen wasn’t wearing her service vest, so she knew she could enjoy the walk and the boy like a family pet. It always astounded him when she recognized the difference. The dog’s intelligence was amazing. That he’d been privileged to acquire her was a blessing he did not take for granted.

He pointed to a vacant lot across the street. “Let’s go over there so she can relieve herself. She drank a lot of water while waiting for us.”

“Tell me about the war, Macfearsome.”

“Santos, I met your father in Iraq. One day while our unit was moving outside Fallujah, we were attacked by a large contingent of…”

Forty minutes later, he and the boy reentered the Jefferson apartment to the soft sounds of Latin music. When Graciella’s eyes questioned him, Cluny pressed his lips together and nodded. Yes. They’d had the talk.

“Did you have a nice long walk with Queen?”

Santos nodded. “Yes. Macfearsome told me about the war and Dad.”

She tilted her head and asked him, “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“Not now, later maybe.”

“OK. I set out the brigadeiros. The coffee is ready. Shall we go back to the table?”

Santos smiled solemnly on his way to the kitchen. “Yes. Come and taste them, Macfearsome.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He touched Graciella lightly on the back and whispered, “He’s fine. A little more grown up, but fine.” He’d told the boy as much detail as he felt the child could absorb. At nine, he was entitled to the facts about his dad’s navy service, the importance of his actions on the battlefield. He didn’t glorify it because there was little glory in war, but he told the truth.

When they reached the table he said, “Santos, my man, this is the respectful way for a gentleman to behave when at the table with a lady. Doesn’t matter if it’s his mother, wife, or sister. Let me show you.” He held Graciella’s chair. “After all the ladies are seated the men may sit. It’s an old Wyoming cowboy custom.”

“What if somebody holds the chair before I can?”

“No problem, remain standing until all the ladies are seated.” Once her chair was positioned correctly, he let his fingers trail across her back when he moved to his own seat. He eyed the platter of good-sized balls of chocolate, some coated with chocolate sprinkles and others with coconut or colored sugar. “Your brigadeiros? You’re teasing me, you bought them. They look perfect.”

Santos grinned and nodded. “I really did make them.”

“Without help from your mother?” The kid’s proud face lit up the room.

“Uh, huh. I learned how when I was eight, and got tall and didn’t have to stand on a chair to reach the stove. Before then Mama said it was too dangerous for a child, but I’m big now.” He reached for the platter and passed it to Cluny. “Take one of each and tell me what you like the best.”

Cluny used the small tongs on the platter to place three balls on his dessert plate. “May I have more than three?”

“Yes, but you can’t eat that many, I betcha.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Graciella chuckled. “Would you like some coffee, Cluny? It’s decaf. I don’t drink regular coffee this late.” She held an insulated pot.

“I’d love some. I’m a decaf man myself.” She filled his cup. He said, “Thank you. Is he right about not eating more than three?”

“I am right, huh, Mama?” Santos placed two chocolate balls on his own plate. “I made extra for you to take home, Macfearsome. The box is in the refrigerator. Don’t forget to take it when you leave.”

“No chance in that happening.” He started to reach with his fingers then pulled back his hand and looked to Graciella. “Fork or fingers?”

“Your choice. There’s only one rule. Enjoy.” She reached for the platter and placed a coconut-covered confection on her plate then picked it up in her fingers and nibbled. She made a soft humming sound and rolled her eyes. “Santos, these are your best ever.”

Cluny tasted the candy and sighed. “I’ve been completely spoiled here tonight. The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is kick down my kitchen.”

They laughed at his joke and exchanged inconsequential table talk while enjoying the treat. He noted Graciella had poured coffee for her son, who then added a generous amount of cream and sipped it with aplomb. Must be a Latin custom, Cluny thought. He tipped his head in the direction of the stereo. “Is that samba music?”

“Mom!” Santos blurted.

“I’m right here, son.”

“Mom, why don’t we teach Macfearsome to samba? He told me he only knows the cowboy two-step.”

“Is that right?” She smiled. “We’ll remedy that cultural gap when we’re finished here. You game, Mr. McPherson?”

“Oh, I’m game, ma’am.” He was tickled when she got his double meaning. Her cheeks pinked, and he warmed low in his belly. They finished the chocolate with little conversation.

* * *

Graciella cranked up the music, and Santos nearly doubled with laughter watching Cluny try to imitate his subtle movements to the rhythm of the beat. “You’re all stiff, Macfearsome. Do it like this.”

“I would if I could, buddy, but I’m not as loose in the hips as you are.” He shook his hands and tried again.

He was clumsy in his attempt to follow her son’s lead, but Graciella enjoyed the big man’s effort. Tall, slim, and strong, he had trouble relaxing enough to do the foreign movements with grace. A good sport, he seemed to be enjoying it, wearing a big smile the entire time.

“Here.” She stepped in front of him. “Let me help. Relax your back and shoulders.” She put her hands on his hips and gave him a good shake, then directed his movements. He loosened a bit beneath her light touch and was making progress when she suddenly stopped and stared over his shoulder. She snatched her hands away from him.

Cluny turned to see what had startled her.

A willowy young woman stared at them, shock and outrage on her flawless face.

“Krystal,” Graciella said, hand to her throat. “I didn’t hear you knock.” She quickly turned down the stereo. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I came to see my nephew.” Her glare jumped from Graciella to Santos to Cluny. “I knocked, but it seems you were having so much fun you didn’t hear me.”

Graciella cleared her throat. “Krystal, this is our friend Cluny McPherson. Cluny, Krystal Jefferson, Marvin’s sister.”

He extended his hand, but Krystal stared at him, her eyes stony and cold.

“Auntie Krystal, Macfearsome knew Dad. He told me about the war.”

“Is that so?”

Cluny’s hand brushed Graciella’s. “Perhaps I’d better go.” He touched Santos’s shoulder. “Good night, buddy.”

“Mama? Can I go with Macfearsome and say goodnight to Queen?”

“Yes, you may. Thank you for coming, Cluny. We enjoyed your company.”

“Good night.” He tipped his head at Krystal. “Ms. Jefferson. Come with me, Santos.” They left the apartment.

Krystal stared at Graciella. Several seconds passed before she spoke. “Who the hell is the white guy?”

Stomach churning, Graciella clenched her fists and walked toward the kitchen. The insult stung. Krystal resented her for being of European descent. “I told you, Krystal. He’s a friend of ours. It’s none of your business, but Marvin and his team saved the lives of several Marines in Iraq. Cluny was one of them. I asked him to tell Santos about it.”

Krystal followed her. “I don’t want him to hear any claptrap about my brother dying to save a bunch of white guys.”

Graciella whirled on her. “He died saving the lives of fellow American soldiers! Not a ‘bunch of white guys.’ I will not have you poisoning my son’s mind with your racial prejudice and rage. I’ve raised Santos to be color-blind, just like his father and your parents. I will not allow you to teach him otherwise.”

“He should be educated on the true history of African-Americans in this sewer of a country. Not sold a load of fairytale shit about equality and brotherly love!”

“I’d like you to leave.”

“I came to see my nephew.”

“Leave now! Do not come to our home again unless you are invited.”

The hatred in the woman’s eyes frightened Graciella, and not for the first time. At a loss for a solution, she thought again about taking Santos and returning to Brazil. Her son was an American citizen, but she had never completed the process. If she left the U.S. she didn’t know what would happen to her veteran’s pension or her son’s benefits, and she might never be able to return with him to his country of birth.

“I’ll leave, but I’m warning you—don’t think you can get away with keeping him away from me or my parents.” She stormed from the apartment, slamming the door hard. Marvin’s parents were nothing like their daughter. They were decent and kind. They never spewed racial vitriol. Leaning heavily against the sink, she trembled and pressed palms to her chest to calm her racing heart.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cluny dumped Queen’s water pan in the gutter and snapped on her service vest. She crawled over the console into the front seat while Santos watched with interest.

“Is she working now?”

“Yep. She’s back on the job.” He shook Santos’s hand. “It was good talking to you, sailor. I hope to see you again before too long.”

“When I grow up I’m going to be a Frogman like my dad.”

“Good for you. He’d be proud. So would I.”

“We might go to the beach again this week. Can you and Amber come?”

“Sure. I have a few vacation days left. Have your mom give me a heads-up. I’ll see if I can talk Amber into joining us.” As if he’d have a chance in hell of going to the beach without her.

The smack of angry footsteps heading in their direction caught the boy’s attention. “Uh- oh, Auntie Krystal and my mom must have had another fight.” He took an unconscious sidestep closer to Cluny.

Krystal stopped and grabbed Santos’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“No!” He yanked away from her grip.

“Do as I say!” She reached toward him again. Cluny intercepted her hand.

She gave him a murderous look. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Santos doesn’t want to go with you. If you’d like to return to the apartment, we’ll ask his mother’s permission first. Until then, don’t put your hands on him again.” Every muscle in his body tensed with anger at the woman’s rough handling of the boy. There was no way he’d stand by and let her continue to scare him. He faced Santos. To give him credit, he looked more angry than frightened with his narrow shoulders thrown back and chin thrust forward.

“You’ll be sorry you ever got in the middle of our family business, white boy!” She stormed past them to a dark sedan where a big man stepped out of the driver’s side door. Cluny watched over the roof of his Pontiac as he held Santos to his side. The boy didn’t see the unfolding drama. When Krystal got close to the guy’s car, he opened the passenger door, grabbed her by the hair and thrust her inside. In seconds the car roared down the street.

“Whoa.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “What’s with your aunt? Why is she so steamed up?”

“I dunno.” Santos hung his head and fell back against the car. “I want to go inside with my mom.”

Hand on the boy’s shoulder, he said, “Come on. I’ll walk with you.”

Santos trudged along beside him. Cluny accompanied him to the apartment where Graciella stood in the open doorway. Her face was full of stress lines, and she wrung her hands.

He stopped in front of her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Anything I can do?”

“No. I’m horribly embarrassed you were caught in the middle, Cluny.”

The glimmer of pending tears wrenched his heart, so he joked, “Don’t worry about me, ma’am. I’m a Marine.” He embraced her in a brief hug and grinned when she pushed back and slapped his shoulder. “I can see you’re OK.”

She blushed and drew Santos to her side. “We’re fine. Thanks for your concern.”

He tipped a small salute at Santos. “See you around, bud.”

Behind the wheel, he scratched Queen’s bony head. “You missed all the fun tonight, girl.” There had been fun, but that last ugly scene left him unsettled. Graciella had understated her sister-in-law’s personality when she’d told him Krystal was a pain in the ass. If he were a betting man, he’d bet she wasn’t shooting with a full clip. The woman looked a good ten years younger than Graciella. That meant Krystal Jefferson had been a kid about Santos’s age when her big brother, Marv, went off to war for the last time.