Authors: Jamie Jeffries
Alex looked over her shoulder at the baby in his car seat. He and his mom were both sleeping peacefully. “How long before Jimmy sends for her?” she asked.
“He’s worried about her, so I think soon. Probably as soon as he gets his first paycheck. Could be a couple of weeks, though.”
“I can’t wait to see Dad’s face when I bring her home,” she said, suppressing a yawn. “He’s going to flip out.”
“Well, I hope he does it in private. That girl’s as skittish as a new colt. The last thing we need is her bolting. I don’t want Jimmy to come back and demand an explanation from me.”
“What’s the deal with them, anyway? She told me she was afraid of him. Then he comes in, takes her in the bedroom for a few minutes, and she comes out blushing. There wasn’t time to... you know.”
Dylan was grinning again, she could tell as soon as he spoke. “My guess is, when he told her she could come with him and he’d take care of her, she took it as a proposal of sorts.”
“Was it?”
“Who knows? Stranger things have happened. He doesn’t know why she named him as the baby’s father; says he’s never been with her. But it worked out for him when he needed help to hide, so he went along with it.”
“She told Anna and me it was because it was Jimmy’s fault the father died.”
“Aw, shit, did we just help a murderer escape?”
“Not because of that. I guess he could be a murderer, but she said it was because the Gilas made a raid on a
Los Reyes
operation and some of them got killed.”
“Hmmm. The guys who had Wanda said something similar. They lost three men in a raid. Jimmy said he never told them to hit
Los Reyes
. It was on them, he said.”
“Sounds like everyone’s ready to point a finger, but no one’s ready to take responsibility,” Alex said, her voice turning prim. She didn’t mean it that way. She always hated when she came across as judgmental, and it happened too often. She’d have to remember that when she wrote the piece she was planning for her blog. It couldn’t sound that way, or it wouldn’t be as effective.
“You know what’s funny? I started out thinking Jimmy was a cartel thug, and I guess he was. But he doesn’t seem like one when I’m just talking to him. He joined to help his family.”
“I told you that woman seemed to think of him as a Robin Hood type.”
“So, does the Robin Hood thing seem valid to you? Someone becomes an outlaw because they can’t see a lawful way to make it in the world, and that’s okay?”
“Well, it was when Robin Hood did it. Those laws were made by corrupt men, and a few people were hoarding, not only all the wealth, but all the natural resources, too. It was break the law or go hungry.”
“The way he put it, it was about the same here.”
“But the cartels sell poison. And they exploit innocents to get it across the border. I don’t even think they care if the people carrying their bales of marijuana get caught or die out there. It’s a distraction to keep you guys from noticing the other people bringing in the really deadly stuff.”
Dylan’s face, lit now by the dashboard lights, turned toward her for a moment before he turned back to look at the road. “You don’t count pot as deadly?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m serious. Don’t you agree that smoking pot leads to taking more serious drugs?”
“Not at all,” she answered.
“Why not?”
“Because, I’m pretty sure my Nana has been smoking it since the 1960s.”
Dylan’s laugh rang out, loud enough to wake the baby, who started crying. That woke up Sophia. She soothed her little man as Dylan continued to laugh far longer than Alex thought necessary.
“I have to meet your Nana,” he said, when he was able to stop laughing long enough to get the words out.
“You’ll meet her next week, at Thanksgiving dinner,” she said, beginning to laugh herself. What a long, strange day this had been. She wanted to explore the question with Dylan a little more, but not with Sophia listening.
They pulled up to her dad’s house a few minutes before seven, and Dylan waited in the pickup with Sophia and the baby, while Alex went in to prepare her dad for their unexpected visitors. If he refused to take Sophia in, Alex wasn’t sure what Dylan was going to do. There certainly wasn’t any room for them in his mom’s trailer.
Inside the house, she betrayed her nerves by shifting back and forth as she went through the day’s events as concisely as she could. Grateful that her dad didn’t interrupt after first asking if everything was okay, she rushed the punch line.
“Long story short, Sophia’s in Dylan’s truck with the baby. We need to hide her here for a few weeks.”
Alex wanted to shrink into the floor tiles as her dad stared at her.
“Here. You mean we need to hide her in our home?”
“Yes, Dad. It will be fine. No one can link her with you and me. She’ll be safe here.”
“For how long, Alex?”
“Three weeks, a month maybe? Until Jimmy sends for her. He has to get a job and get his first paycheck.”
Her dad let her stew for another minute. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “All right,” he said, at last.
“Really, Dad? Just, ‘all right’? I didn’t think...”
Her dad was glaring at her. “When have we refused to help when we can? You say she hasn’t done anything wrong, but she’s in danger. We have a couple of guest rooms, and we can help. So, all right.”
She remembered him saying that once before, not that long ago. It would come to her eventually, but for now, she threw herself at him and hugged him tightly.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, kiddo. Let’s get our guests settled.”
FORTY-THREE
Once Dylan helped get Sophia and the baby settled in the Ward’s guest room, he pulled Alex outside for a private conversation. The evening breeze had come up, bringing the dry, sweet smell of the desert with it. She crossed her arms against the slight chill, and Dylan put his arms around her.
“Thank you for all your help today,” he said.
“Wait, wasn’t this my idea? Thank
you
.”
“It doesn’t matter. We worked together, and we did a good thing. That’s good, baby.” Dylan dipped his head to kiss her, but she didn’t raise her face. He kissed the top of her head, instead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He’d heard married co-workers joke about the nothing that was something, when their wives said it. He knew better than to let it go, but what to ask or do next was a different story.
“Are you worried about Sophia and the baby being at your house?”
“Not really. No, I don’t see how anyone could link her to us. It’s something else.”
Ha! There it was. There
was
something wrong. Before he could ask, Alex spilled it.
“Dylan, how soon do you think you’ll have your brothers? I mean, are we talking a week, a month? What? Do you think they’ll be here by Christmas?”
Before answering, Dylan worked it out. It wasn’t out of left field. It had something to do with Sophia’s youth and having a baby, and Alex’s fear about being something to his boys. He answered by asking a question in return.
“Are you worried I will or worried I won’t? Have them by Christmas, I mean.”
“I wish I knew. I know how important it is to you...”
“But?” he prompted, lifting her chin with his finger. “Tell me, Lexi. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“That’s just the thing,” she said, her voice firmer now. “You can’t fix it. Nothing can fix it.” Pushing away from his chest, she said, “I need to get inside and make dinner for everyone. You’re welcome to stay.”
There was no warmth in the words. Bewildered, Dylan answered automatically that he needed to check on his mom, but if it was okay, he’d come back later.
“Whatever,” she said. Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad.
What did I say?
Dylan reached for her, caught her by the wrist, and pulled her back to him.
“Whatever is wrong, I will fix it. I love you, Lexi.” She allowed him to kiss her, but it didn’t feel right. She was wooden in his arms, and her lips didn’t welcome him as usual. “I’ll be back. Would you save a little dinner for me? Since you offered?”
“Sure.”
He let her go, then. She didn’t look back as she went inside. Dylan got in his pickup and sat for a moment before starting it. He needed to get this figured out, and fast. Maybe Ange could help.
Minutes later, he entered his mom’s mobile home, kissed the ghost of a figure in his mom’s easy chair, and looked into the kitchen where Ange was preparing something. “Nothing for me, Ange. I’m going back over to Alex’s.”
“I wasn’t fixing anything for you anyway. I never know when you’ll be home, and as you know, it isn’t my job.”
What was with the women in his life today? Was there a full moon or something? At least he could ask Ange an honest question and get an honest answer. There was nothing but casual friendship between them. Maybe not even that. Ange was his mom’s live-in home care nurse, but she’d been friendly before.
“Ange, I’m sorry. I assumed, and I know what that means.”
“Okay. Just don’t take me for granted, Dylan, okay?”
“I won’t. I don’t. If it weren’t for you, I couldn’t handle any of the shit that’s been going on. Sorry,” he added, as he saw her raise her eyebrows. “You’re a godsend, truly. And I need your advice.”
“Advice is free. Not that I expect you to take it.” What the hell had he done? She was back to ragging on him.
“Alex is acting strange, and I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.
“Acting strange, how?”
This was going to be awkward. He couldn’t tell Ange about Sophia. Not that he didn’t trust Ange, but anyone could slip, and Ange was with Bill, who was a deputy. His mind scrambled to catch up, knowing he was taking too long to answer. What could he tell her? Maybe a portion of the truth would do.
“We were talking about my brothers. She asked when I thought I’d have them, and something was off about her question. She wanted to know if I thought I’d have them for Christmas. So I asked if she was hoping I would or hoping I wouldn’t. She said she didn’t know, so I told her I couldn’t fix anything unless I knew what was broken. Then she got all cold, like we’re not... Shit, Ange, what did I say?”
“Well, your first mistake was assuming she wanted you to fix it. Let me guess. You asked her what was wrong and all this came out.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s how it works. The minute a woman gets quiet, her guy wants to ride up on a white horse and rescue her. Nine times out of ten, she just wants time and space to think, and then she’ll work things out for herself. It’s even worse when we do say something, because you guys take over. That’s why we say there’s nothing wrong, when there is.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Did you not hear me? Nothing! Let her work it out for herself.”
Dylan scratched his head. That didn’t sound right. The guy was supposed to solve the problems, wasn’t he? But if Alex wouldn’t tell him what the problem was, how could he solve it? That reminded him he had a problem related to that same question.
“Ange, what do you think? Before Christmas, or after?”
“For you to get your brothers?”
“No,” he said, glancing at his mom. She gave no sign she could hear him or understand what he was asking, even if she could. But, he wouldn’t spell it out any more than that. Ange would get it, probably.
Understanding dawned on Ange’s face. She shook her head. “You never know. Why? I’d ask you the same question you asked her.”
“It isn’t that. What am I going to do with them if...? I’m thinking I should try to get an apartment.”
Ange stopped stirring whatever it was she was cooking, to turn and stare at him. “Oh... Yeah, I hadn’t thought about it. I think you should. You don’t want to bring them here, Dylan, even if... Here, let me get your mom fed, and then I’d like to get some air.”
She wanted to talk outside. That meant she thought his mom may have some brain cells left, somewhere behind that still, blank face. She’d been in this position before; he hadn’t. Whatever she was going to say came from the voice of experience, and at this point, he needed some experience to guide him. Not only in matters related to his mother’s illness, but in love.
He waited almost half an hour, while Ange patiently coaxed Maria to open her mouth and then close it again before the soup could dribble out. When she couldn’t get his mom to open her mouth again, Ange dabbed at Maria’s mouth with a napkin and took the half-full bowl of soup to the kitchen.
“Come on, she’ll be okay for a few minutes, before I need to change her diaper and get her into bed.”
Dylan winced, reminded of the more unpleasant facts of his mom’s illness. To Ange, it was all in a day’s work. He hated every escalating loss of dignity his mom endured.
Outside, Ange took the lead. “You’ve stopped noticing, but this trailer stinks of death. Even if your mom is still alive when you get the boys, I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to have constant contact with her. It would scar them for life to have to live with her like that for long. Besides, there’s no room. They need their own room, and so do you.”