He clenched his hands. "I screamed at him for being stupid. Called him a baby." His face pinched. "He looked at me with eyes that were a hundred years old. Then he started walking . . . away from the house.
"I hollered at him to come back and be a man. But he just kept walking. I heard the train whistle. We used to throw stones on the track, thought one day we'd derail it and see a spectacular crash. The brush came up chest high almost to the tracks."
She reached out and touched his hand.
"Engineer never saw him coming."
She had not expected anything so awful, but now she wondered why not. Only someone who'd been to the brink could have looked inside her as he did. "I'm so sorry, Matt."
"Never did find out what Dad was so cranked up about."
M
aria and her baby opened their eyes at the same moment, as though they'd sent a signal, one to the other—
I'm here
. Maria gave a little cry and stretched out her arms in a gesture Lance couldn't ignore even though Matt had wanted to supervise their reunion.
Maria started to cry. "He's so fat." She fussed and cooed and stroked his cheeks. "Look at this chin. These dimples." She kissed his hand.
Lance touched the speed dial on his phone to page Matt. The man had made the right call in supporting this. He would have no doubt when he saw them together.
"His hair, it stands up." Maria laughed. "And see how he looks around. He wants to know everything."
"You have good English, Maria." Lance cocked his eyebrow.
She acknowledged his gibe with a sheepish glance. "Because I wanted to attend school here."
"What happened?"
"My uncle lied." Her face clouded with hurt and rage.
Lance leaned close. "Is he Diego's father?"
She shook her head, teeth aligned in a pained grimace. "The others. Whoever sold the most."
Lance seethed. Her uncle had promised an American education, and instead prostituted her?
"He said the school wouldn't take me, so I should cook and clean. I wanted to go home, but he said no." The look on her face made him want to cry. "Then they started waking me." Her voice broke. "I fought. But then it didn't matter. I couldn't go home anymore."
He'd see about that. Most likely she'd been told a lot of things that weren't true, things to keep her quiet and hopeless.
"I had so much anger." She looked at the baby. "I wanted him to die. That night, when I saw his face, I was glad. He was as ugly as what they did. I started screaming, but when you came and took him in your hands . . ." She clutched Diego up against her.
"El amor me demandó."
Love claimed her. Tears stung his eyes. He still didn't know how any of that had happened, but when God moved, he didn't stand in the way.
Her eyes filled with tears. "You are a saint."
And wouldn't Pop like that? "I'm just a guy, Maria. What God did for your baby, God did.
¿Comprendes?
"
"Si."
But her face still glowed.
He turned at a sound and found Sofie and Matt in the doorway. He wasn't sure how long they'd been there or what they'd heard. His focus had been tight.
Matt came up beside them. "Feeling better, Maria?"
She nodded. Her arms tightened around Diego.
Matt said, "I want to do the best I can for Diego, Maria. And Cassinia wants the same for you. For us to do that, we need to find your family."
Panic caught her once again. Her breaths came sharp and quick. "My mother didn't want me to come. She thought I was ashamed to be who I was. She said my school was good. My home was good. But . . ." A sob caught in her throat. "I wouldn't listen."
Matt said, "You had no reason to suspect your uncle."
She clutched Diego even tighter. "Don't let them take my baby."
Lance rested a hand on her arm. "No one's taking your baby."
Matt didn't contradict, but neither did he agree. "We have to make the decision that's best for Diego. He is a citizen of this country, and I have a responsibility to him."
"But he doesn't have to stay. He can come home . . . with me, no?"
"Is that what you want?"
"Yes." But her chin dropped.
Lance cocked his head. "Maria?"
She murmured, "I want that, but . . .
mi mamá
might not want me."
Diego yawned and stretched, then started to nuzzle, fussing when the fabric of her hospital gown thwarted him.
Maria raised stricken eyes. "I have no milk." More than a statement of fact, it expressed her shame and failure and regret, none of which belonged on her. She'd been incredibly brave and selfless in rotten circumstances.
Sofie took a bottle with powdered formula from the diaper bag. "I'll have this ready in just a minute." She went out, probably to the nurses' station to hydrate and warm it.
The baby's fussing became a strident accordion cry. Since Maria could not strain herself, Lance lifted Diego to his shoulder and paced the small space until Sofie came back. Then he returned the infant and assisted Maria with the bottle. Diego latched on and sucked as though he hadn't been fed all week.
Sofie tucked a burp cloth over Maria's shoulder. "If you used a pump and let him try, you might get your milk back."
"Yes?" Maria's brows raised hopefully.
Matt shook his head. "That's not a good idea. Nothing's decided yet."
"It's my choice?" Maria said. "To keep Diego?"
"Mostly yes, if care and safety conditions are met. But there are a lot of factors to consider."
She sank wearily back. Diego had guzzled half the bottle and now took a more leisurely pace on the nipple.
Lance nodded toward the door. "Can we give them a few minutes alone?" He sensed Maria's need to reestablish herself with the infant she'd borne and nurtured the first six days of his life.
She'd been without him as long as she'd had him, and the loss of those precious days obviously hurt more than she wanted to show.
He followed Matt and Sofie into the hall as she pressed the issue. "Why would you hesitate to encourage her to reestablish a bond so healthy for both of them?"
Matt looked down at her. "Under ordinary circumstances, yes. But we've had no chance to assess her stability or learn why she left him. Whatever her reasons—" He held up a hand at Sofie's intended interruption. "Noble as they might be, she still abandoned her infant with no certainty that he would be safe and cared for."
"She had every certainty. She'd been with my brother a week."
Matt raised his brows, and Sofie conceded the point.
"My responsibility is to Diego Espinoza. It may be in his best interest to return him to his mother's custody, but that determination hasn't been made. We can't assume it and proceed as though the complications aren't there."
"You heard her, Matt. She wants to take him home."
"On a good day. And we don't know that she can go home. What if he's the reason she can't? Would she leave him again? Or worse?"
Lance hung his hands on his hips. "If Maria's family won't have her, she can stay with us. She didn't leave that baby because she wanted to. She thought she was protecting him. And after what they'd done? That's a pretty strong statement."
Matt nodded. "We need time to consider everything—including Maria's mistreatment, if and when we get clarity on that. The fact that she went back to them muddies it up."
"She had no choice." Sofie jumped in. "You heard Elaine. They must have been watching for her. They took her away."
Matt studied Sofie. "Except she verbally surrendered the baby before they
took
her. I'm not saying she hasn't changed her mind, or that she didn't believe she had to leave him. I'm saying we don't know. Give me time to figure it out."
She wrapped herself in her arms. "She's lost half his life already."
"I'll do everything I can to expedite this. But Cassinia will determine whether it's in Maria's best interest to shoulder the responsibility, and what's required for her own well-being."
Lance said, "We all want what's best for both of them."
"Right now that means we keep the status quo until we've learned all we need to," Matt said. "As soon as the baby's fed, Sofie, can you take him home?"
She slackened. "All right. But the sooner Maria tries to recover her milk, the better for both of them."
He looked at his watch. "I'm not going to okay that until we know they'll stay together. She's riding an emotional roller-coaster." He took them both in with a glance. "She said herself she wanted him to die."
Lance wished Matt hadn't heard that, especially if he didn't believe something real had happened for her or the baby, something so profound it had changed her heart.
"I need to go." Matt turned to Sofie, softening his tone. "We'll talk?"
Aha
. The flush in her face hadn't come from their disagreement.
She nodded, and for a pregnant moment while he walked away, she seemed subdued. But when she went in and gathered up Diego, she told Maria, "Ask the nurse to help you with a pump."
In response to Lance's questioning look, she said, "That's not nursing him. Yet."
————
Matt slid the suit coat over his crisply pressed dress shirt and tried not to think about Ryan's comments. The last thing he needed was Becca on the rebound. Unlikely, since Ryan was better looking, funnier, and an extravagant gift giver, even if he couldn't afford it. But Becca might be making a point. She was big on object lessons.
See, Ryan, if you behaved like Matt . . .
He frowned. Maybe he should have said no. But Becca was hurting too. And it said something that she didn't want to be hit on. She wasn't as ready to move on as she claimed. She and Ryan had dated for two years, been engaged for most of a third. He couldn't think of them apart. In his mind, they'd melded.
He checked the knot of his tie and went to pick Becca up. From the minute she got in the car, she chattered with a nervous cheeriness that seemed strange, since they'd known each other so long. "What's up, Bec? Someone spike your tea?"
"I haven't been out to something like this without Ryan for years."
"Well, it's just me."
That eased her nerves, but she turned a frank stare on him. "You shouldn't say
just
. You're not
just
anything."
"I meant we've done this before."
"Not like this, though. Not without Ryan symbolically if not physically included."
Except in his mind, Ryan loomed like a specter ogling every move. "So, you okay?"
"I'm more than okay. I'm great. Never better."
"Someone did spike your tea."
She laughed a little skittishly. "Well, I will be. I mean it too."
"Okay, then."
She'd settled by the time they reached MacArthur Place, the elegant and historic hotel chosen for the event. When she removed her coat, he saw that she had indeed worn blue, but it was a fitted navy sheath, sexy-professional.
"You look nice."
"You think so?"
She had the same vivaciousness that usually defined Ryan, blue eyes enhanced with tinted contacts, and pink, glossy lipstick. One hardly noticed that her nose peaked up and canted to one side, that her hips would carry her weight when she hit middle age, or that she talked incessantly now that the nerves had returned. It was going to be a long night.
"Thank you for being here, Matt. I didn't want to be shark bait."
The guys who'd come without wedding bands did look carnivorous, but that was part of the sales profile. And Becca was no shrinking violet. His presence announced her break with Ryan but told everyone she had no intention of pining. She made a good show, though he guessed inside she was shaky.
She received her award modestly, but her wheels had to be turning. If she could do this, why couldn't Ryan? She was climbing the ladder, while he did as little as possible and still looked for more appreciation and perks than he deserved.
"Congratulations." He kissed her cheek when she settled back down beside him. "It's well deserved."
"Thanks." Her eyes shone. "Thanks for being here."
He squeezed her hand, thinking how much Ryan had wanted to be. Maybe it was the kick in the pants Ryan needed, but it churned inside like bad milk. "Bec . . . Ryan really wanted—"
"Don't." She held up a hand. "Let's have one night without talking about him, okay?"
He didn't remind her that she'd been the one throwing Ryan's name around like confetti. He wanted there to be an answer, but Ryan awakened the helplessness he'd felt for his brother, Jacky. How could he make someone strong? How could he suffuse a survival instinct on those destined for extinction?
She slipped her hand into his. "I feel like I'm out with my big brother."
Good. That was right where he wanted it.
"You've always been there for me." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "A good—no, a great friend."
He squirmed, hoping she wasn't trying to change that.
"So, I want you to know I'm not getting back with Ryan."
There was the train whistle, and Ryan walking blindly through the brush. His throat tightened. "It's only been a couple weeks."
"I wouldn't have broken it off if I wasn't sure. So would it be okay if you didn't try to fix this one thing?"
He nodded.
"Okay, good." She picked up her wine and drank.
The awards dragged on to ridiculous, but he clapped and laughed at the lame jokes and smiled at the anecdotes Becca told about each co-worker. The women at their table asked where she'd been hiding him, and he cringed when she said behind Ryan. They all seemed to support her decision to move on. If Ryan hadn't found stability at thirty-two, would he ever?
Asked about his job, Matt said most of it was mundane and tedious. He didn't say it beat billing politicians eighteen hours a day and feeling slimed by the time he dropped sleepless into bed. Or that the faces that swam in his dreams now deserved his attention. Or most of all, that Dad no longer boasted about Matthew, the big-shot attorney.
At the end of the event, he dropped Becca off and went home, hoping against hope that Ryan had the self-respect to leave it alone tonight. But there he sat in the kitchen in the dark with a bottle of Beam and a bellyache.