Tumbling Blocks (23 page)

His voice became lower, a distant rumble. “Please, don’t tell Gabe. She wants to tell him herself.” He dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told her I’d let her decide when to let people know, but I didn’t want you to think it was something worse. And I didn’t want to lie to you. I can understand why she’s trying to control this, but I’m growing weary of the charades.”

I knew about the disease. My friend, Oneeta Cleary, had lived with it for as long as I’d known her. She was the wife of Jim Cleary, one of Gabe’s captains and his most trusted employee.

For as long as I’d known Oneeta she’d been in a wheelchair. Her mind was as bright and active as any woman I’d ever met, but her body had an agenda all its own. We’d never actually discussed her condition, but now I wondered why I hadn’t asked more questions about how long she’d had it, how quickly it had progressed, was it getting any worse. It shamed me to think that I hadn’t ever asked about this important aspect of her life.

“When did she find out about it?” I asked.

“About six months ago. Her condition is controlled now with shots, and most days she feels normal. She sometimes has trouble keeping her balance, and she doesn’t drive anymore. We take life day to day.” He turned his head to look at me, blinking slowly. “Then again, shouldn’t life always be like that? Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to anyone.”

I murmured agreement, my heart fluttering in my chest. How would Gabe take this troubling news? “Do the girls know?”

He nodded. “Kathryn told them right before we left with strict orders not to call Gabe. She wanted to tell him in person. There just hasn’t seemed to be the right moment for it. Between you and me, I think their past might be hindering a truly intimate talk.”

“I think you’re right.” I turned around and rested my back against the porch railing, looking into the lit house. Sam’s laughter, so similar to his dad’s, rang out, followed by Teresa’s girlish giggle. “I should try to find Gabe.”

“Maybe not,” Ray said. “Though I can’t presume to tell you what to do about your husband, it might be better to leave him alone for a little while. I’ll talk to Kathryn and suggest that they go for a drive as soon as they can, try to talk about things.” He touched an age-spotted hand to his chest. “I’m sorry if my being here makes things harder.”

“Oh, Ray,” I said, impulsively hugging him. “I’m
not
sorry you’re here, and I’m so happy that you and Kathryn found each other. Gabe will be too, once he figures things out.”

After a few minutes we went back inside and along with everyone else did the best we could to salvage the evening. Kathryn slipped me a couple of curious side glances, obviously wondering what Ray and I talked about the half hour we were out on the porch. He’d probably tell her later. Though it would be hard, I’d keep my word and not tell Gabe about his mother’s condition. It seemed we were destined in our relationship to hide things from each other. Every time it happened, I wondered how much that would hurt our still-fragile relationship. Still, this wasn’t my call. I would try my best to convince him, without giving anything away, that he and his mother needed a heart-to-heart talk soon.

Since it was a work night, by nine p.m. everyone had gone home. The tree was decorated beautifully, though most of it was done by Sam, Teresa, Beebs and Millee. I was sorry I missed out on one of the things I loved most about this holiday. But I was glad Ray and I talked. It gave me hope that things between Gabe and his mother could be resolved on this trip, which was more important than me hanging a few Christmas ornaments.

“Everything will be okay, sweetcakes,” Emory said as I walked him and Elvia out to the sidewalk. He pulled me into a tight hug. I could feel Elvia’s hand patting my back.

“I know,” I mumbled into his chest. “Gabe’s just going through a tough time.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Elvia said, hugging me after Emory.

Once everyone was gone, I shooed Kathryn and Ray to bed, telling them that what little cleaning up there was to do would relax me while I waited for Gabe. Kathryn gave me a worried look, her blue-gray eyes reminding me so much of her son’s. She started to say something, then apparently changed her mind.

“Good night, Benni,” she said. “Dream sweet.”

Dream sweet.
Those were the same words that Gabe often said to me before we went to sleep. When we were dating and were longing so much for each other every night, those were always his last words to me: “Dream sweet,
querida
.” I wondered if Kathryn said them because Rogelio had said that to her. A nighttime wish for beautiful dreams passed down from husband to wife to mother to son to husband to wife.

Gabe came home about ten p.m. Boo, exhausted, had fallen asleep against a dozing Scout. Both of them lay on the floor next to the sofa where I sat in the dark, the room lit only by the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights. I’d been staring at the lights for almost an hour wondering if I should go search for my husband. A cold burst of air followed him into the room.

“Hey,” he said, coming into the living room. Scout lifted his head, then laid it back down again. Boo gave a little puppy chirrup and snuggled deeper into Scout’s warm chest.

“Hey,” I said, not getting up.

He stood in front of the flickering tree, his face a map of sad planes and crevices. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets, appearing as if he were waiting for me to say something.

I didn’t. This time he would have to ask for my help. This time I wouldn’t push myself or my solutions on him. Ray was right; this was Gabe’s battle, and only he could punch his way out of it. After a long minute, I stood up and walked over to him, putting my arms around his waist, laying my head against his broad back. I couldn’t give him solutions, but I could give him comfort.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Gabe said.

I didn’t answer. I wanted so badly to tell him what to do, to go talk to his mom, that time was running out for her, for all of us. That life was too short, too fragile to let his anger and his pain steal any more of his days than they already had.

“I’ll just tell everyone I had a bad day. I’ll just . . .” He let his voice drift away, knowing that the remedy wasn’t that simple.

My head against his back, I could feel him swallow, holding back his emotion. I couldn’t help it, I had to say something. It just wasn’t in me to step back from the people I loved. That was as much a part of me as Gabe’s reluctance to connect with the people he loved was a part of him.

I moved around and laid my head on his chest. “I love you, Friday. Please, do me a favor. Talk to your Mom. Who knows when she’ll come out again?”

“I’ll try,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of my head. His arms tightened around me. “I promise I’ll try.”

THE NEXT MORNING BOTH GABE AND I HAD DRESSED AND eaten before Kathryn and Ray even stirred. Gabe was rinsing our breakfast dishes and I was taking Boo out for one more potty break before heading off to work when Ray came into the kitchen.

“Hi, Ray,” Gabe said, his voice friendlier than it had been since Ray’s arrival. Ray took it in stride and said good morning.

“Where’s Kathryn?” I asked, trying to keep my face neutral. She’d better talk to her son fast, because I was not known for being able to keep any kind of secrets from Gabe. My expressive face combined with his ability to detect any kind of duplicity usually made it impossible. But he’d been so self-absorbed this morning, reliving, I suspected, his bratty behavior last night, that he didn’t notice any strangeness in my tone.

“She’s moving a little slowly this morning,” Ray said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “She’ll be up and about directly.”

“Is Mom okay?” Gabe asked, turning to look at Ray.

I glanced over at Ray, holding my breath. His expression didn’t change one iota.

“I just think she did too much yesterday,” he said, smiling at Gabe. “You know Kathryn, she never does anything halfway.”

Gabe surprised me by giving Ray a small smile back. “I’ll go in and say good-bye. See what she wants to do for dinner.”

After he left, I asked Ray, “Is she okay this morning?”

He nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, cupping his narrow hands around his mug as if to warm them. “Nothing a day of rest wouldn’t fix. It’s not just the disease, you know. Kathryn and I aren’t spring chickens anymore. Getting out of our routine, the weather change, the time change, plays havoc with your system.”

“I hear you.” I glanced over at the closed kitchen door, then said in a lowered voice, “Do you think she’ll tell him today?”

He shrugged and took a long drink from his mug. “I learned early in our relationship to never try to predict what Kathryn Smith Ortiz would or would not do. Actually, it’s a great deal of her charm for me.”

I laughed, totally understanding what he meant. “Like mother, like son. Those Ortizes do have a way of getting under a person’s skin.”

“And capturing our hearts.”

I picked up Boo, who was scrambling around my feet, and buried my face in his sweet-smelling puppy fur. “Well said, stepfather-in-law.”

“What’s well said?” Gabe asked, walking back into the room. “Mom and I are having dinner out tonight.” Then, realizing, I hoped, how exclusionary that sounded, he added, “If it’s okay with you two.”

“Fine with me,” Ray said.

“I’ll take Ray to Liddie’s,” I said. “He can’t visit San Celina without eating at Liddie’s.”

“Good idea,” Gabe said. “Well, off to the salt mines. You two have a good day.” He came over, kissed me quickly on top of the head and left the kitchen whistling under his breath.

“Maybe tonight will be the night,” I said.

“Let’s hope so,” Ray said in a good-natured but resolute tone.

I was pulling into the parking lot of All Paws on Board when my cell phone rang. The screen read Constance Sinclair.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” I said before she could start in on whatever it was she was going to start in on me about. “May Heinz, Pinky’s housekeeper, said that you said that I was going to go to Pinky’s house and look around.”

“When did you hear that?” Constance demanded.

“More important,” I replied, “why are you making plans and telling people about them before you contact me? I told you that I’d thoroughly investigated whether Pinky Edmondson was murdered and found that she wasn’t. Constance, you have to let this go.” Behind me, Boo was whining. He already knew what going to All Paws meant: playing with other dogs. “Just a minute,” I whispered to him.

“What?” Constance said.

“Nothing, I was talking to the dog.”

“What?”

“Nothing,”
I repeated. “Why do you think me going through Pinky’s house would make a bit of difference? What do you think I’ll find?”

“I don’t know.
That’s
why I want you to investigate. Don’t forget, Benni, you took my check. You haven’t finished the job.”

I inhaled deeply, physically holding my lips together to stifle the scream about to spew out. I didn’t want to scare the puppy. “Constance . . .” I started.

Then I exhaled.
Give it up.
It would just be easier to do as she asked, at least until the holidays were over. “Okay, I’ll go by later on this afternoon. Can you please make sure that someone is there to let me in?”

“A key is in your mailbox at the museum,” she said, triumph in her voice. “Call me as soon as you’re done. I’d meet you there and help you, but with the 49 Club Christmas luncheon tomorrow, I don’t have a spare minute.”

She hung up before I could toss in that I had very few minutes to spare myself. I was handing Boo over to Suann at All Paws when my phone rang again. How was it that cell phones were supposed to make our lives easier?

“Hey, ranch girl,” Hud said, his voice sounding crackly. “Just wanted to remind you about taking Boo to see Santa.”

Shoot, I’d totally forgotten again. “Yeah, I know. It’s on my schedule for . . . today.” I crossed my fingers behind my back.

“I’m sorry to be a pest, but Maisie’s just frantic about it.”

“Boo will have his picture taken with Santa, Hud. I promise.”

After he hung up, I turned my phone off. I just couldn’t afford to hear from one more person asking me to do something. Somehow today I’d have to find the time to have Boo’s picture taken with Santa.

First, find a Santa, I thought, as I unlocked the front door of the folk art museum. Then, bribe him to have his photo taken with a dog.

The minute I got to my office I realized that I’d forgotten the most important thing I was supposed to do today: pick up Abe Adam Finch’s painting at the police station. I dialed Gabe’s direct number. Maggie put me right through.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I forgot to pick up the painting. Can you—?”

He didn’t even let me finish. “I’ll send a patrolman over with it right now. Anything else?”