Forever Loved (The Forever Series) (17 page)

“Yes. Mom, Dad, this is Tina. She runs the art therapy program here. I met her at school.” That was enough background. No need to bring up the suicide part.

“It’s so nice to meet some of Corabelle’s friends,” Mom said, her eyes resting on the striped stockings. “What do you do in your art therapy?”

“I just started today. We’re drawing.” Tina sat in Gavin’s empty chair. “I’m actually here on official business.” She rummaged through a satchel and pulled out a clipboard. “Do your parents maybe want to grab a cup of coffee downstairs?”

My stomach quavered a little. “That’s a good idea. I’ll see you guys in a bit, okay?”

Mom rolled up her knitting and stuck it in a bag. “Come on, Arthur. Nice to meet you.” She led Dad out of the room. He looked back like I was about to be taken away or something. Poor Dad.

“I didn’t expect for you to be one of my first referrals,” Tina said. “But given our shared history, the social worker — shoot, I forgot her name, the one with the vintage glasses—”

“Sabrina,” I said.

She snapped her fingers. “Yes, Sabrina. I’ve learned too many names today. She thought I might get more out of you than she did.”

“I didn’t want to be sent to psych.”

“I don’t think they’d do that. The ward rarely has an empty bed, from what I gather.”

“But they might keep me here.”

“Maybe. Here’s the thing. Your case is open for possible mental health issues. And you and I both know they are there. They asked me to just chat with you, only because we are friends, but I can decide what to tell them. I’m not a therapist and they know that. All I’m supposed to do is say whether or not to enroll you in my therapy once you are up and about.”

I felt wary. I liked Tina, but now she was here officially. And she already knew more than I would have liked. I had assumed I would be out by the time she started.

I fingered the white sheet on my lap. “I told Gavin about the marijuana. And the professor.”

“So what did he do?”

“He had a secret of his own.” My chest tightened, and I had to grip the rails to breathe, sucking in air.

Tina leaned forward and squeezed my arm. “Maybe we should do this another time. I can put a note in that you aren’t medically well enough.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. It’s just like the upset goes straight to my lungs right now.”

She nodded. “I hope I get the hang of how the therapy part affects the physical. I feel so unqualified for this job.”

I breathed in and out slowly until I had a handle on my airflow. “You’ll be fine. It’s just the art stuff, right?”

“Sorta. I still have to, you know, talk to the patients. I’m afraid they will tell me things I can’t handle.”

“Probably some of them will be lying.”

“What did Gavin say?”

“He had a vasectomy.”

“What? He’s like — twenty!”

“He found a place in Mexico that would do it.”

“Holy shit.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Probably not an officially sanctioned response.”

I managed a small laugh. “Probably not.”

“Well, hell. That’s got to be tough. You think he can get it reversed? You still want kids, right?”

“Maybe. We’ll have to see. We’re both in school. We can’t exactly do anything about it right now.”

Tina tugged on one of her pigtails. “So, how did you go from confessions to swim time?”

My breath was fine now, but I placed my hand on my chest anyway to give me a second to decide on my answer. “I overreacted.”

“What was your goal? To get him to save you?”

I thought back. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t think I thought about it. I just went.”

Tina sat back in the chair. “Well, the real therapists might not buy that, but I do. When I cut my wrists, it had nothing to do with dying.” She pushed at the sleeve of her sweater, revealing the scars, white and pale pink but still visible. “I felt like I should be marked. Damaged. Scarred. So I did it.”

“Did you ever get therapy?”

“Are you kidding? Once my parents decided to step in, I spent half my life in shrink-quack offices.” She clapped her hand over her mouth again. “Probably not an officially sanctioned description of mental health professionals either.”

Tina made me laugh. She would be a good fit for Jenny. The two of them were so quirky and colorful. Between Tina’s stockings and Jenny’s hair, they could command the attention of any room.

“Will you be happy here?” I asked. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“I’m at some extended-stay hotel for the moment. It’s hard to find an apartment for such a short time. I might be able to find a sublet.”

“You should stay at my place.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“No, I’m serious. I’m going to be here for who knows how long, and then I may just stay with Gavin. He’ll want to watch me every minute.”

“As he should.”

“Come by later. Gavin has my keys. He can show you around. I don’t have anything valuable. Not even a TV. I’m not worried. Someone should be there anyway.”

Tina stood up. “That’s very generous of you. I’ll give it some thought.” She lifted the clipboard. “So what do you think? Art therapy or no art therapy? We could heckle the other patients.”

“Tina, you are so bad.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t wager on my being here longer than two weeks.”

“Yes, put me down. Hopefully I’ll get loose of the bed today or tomorrow.”

“Still peeing in a tube, eh?” She glanced at the end of the bed.

“I’ve given up on being embarrassed about it.”

“I’ll come by later.”

“Okay.”

“You want me to go down and find your parents in the cafe?”

“No way. Let me have some peace.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

I lowered the bed as soon as she left, feeling more exhausted than I cared to admit. But my spirits did rise having her around. I needed allies. Tina seemed like a good one.

21: Gavin

I stripped off the new mechanic’s shirt and pulled my own sweatshirt over my head. I was stalling. I absolutely did not want to walk down the street to Tony’s.
 

Mario poked his head around the corner of the breakroom. “Bud cleared me to leave for a bit. I’m good to go.”

Having Mario go along was a good call. It would help me keep the emotion out of it. Until I knew for sure who Manuelito belonged to, I didn’t want to be manipulated. I realized how little I knew Rosa.

I stashed the shirt in my backpack. “Not sure I’m ready for this.”

“This is any man’s worst nightmare.” Mario grinned as he said it but forced a serious face when I glared at him. “You’ve got to see the irony of this. You stick with hookers for years to avoid entanglements, and you end up with the biggest sand trap of them all.”

We walked through the bays and out into the weak afternoon sun. Fall had come full force, and the wind on our faces was a cool relief to the inner turmoil.

Mario’s relaxed stride slowed us down, which was fine with me. He wanted to greet everyone who passed, mothers with strollers and teenagers walking home from school. I’d never been one to randomly chat with strangers. Corabelle had been all I’d known growing up, and after her, I sought out relationships I could control. Or thought I could.

“Let me start,” Mario said as we arrived at the hole-in-the-wall pizza joint. “You look like you’re going to jump somebody.”

“I feel like it.”

“Precisely.” He jerked on the glass door.

Rosa and Manuelito sat in a booth along one side. She had bought him a slice of pizza but not one for herself, and suddenly I worried she was here without much money or ability to take care of the boy. God, how was I going to manage this?

Mario headed straight for her and slid into the seat opposite them. Rosa seemed startled by this and looked to me with a question.

He said something rapid in Spanish to her, part an introduction but who knew what else. I disliked this a lot. I felt completely out of control now and wished I hadn’t brought him.

Rosa’s face bloomed red and she argued with him for a moment, pulling a card from her purse. Mario looked at it and gave it back, then turned to me. “So, she’s here on a borrowed border pass. We have her over a barrel if you need that leverage.”

“Jesus, Mario. I don’t want that.”

He shrugged. “Just saying it’s an option if it turns out the kid isn’t yours.”

Rosa clutched at Manuelito, who chewed the pizza slowly. “Who is this friend?” she asked me. “Some sort of
policia
?”

“No. He works with me.”

“Why you bring him?”

“He’s just a friend helping me out.” I glanced over at him. “And being a jerk about it.”

Mario laughed. “I’m not nearly the jerk you are. And Rosa here can handle it. She spits fire.”

“You should see her with a Glock.”

Mario whipped his head around to stare at Rosa again. “Damn.”

Rosa released Manuelito, seeming to understand the situation now. “So you are not
policia
?”

“Hell no,” Mario said. “I just wanted to know how you managed to get over here to disrupt my friend Gavin’s life.”

“You are a tricky man,” she said.

He chuckled. “I am indeed.”

I wanted to know what was next. “So I guess we need to find a place that can test him.”

Rosa nodded. “Yes, that is good. How long it take?”

I shrugged. “I can ask.”

“I don’t know either,” Mario said. “You may have to go back across and return. Not sure they can do it in 72 hours.”

“I take the risk,” Rosa said. “I stay. When they see my boy is his, we can stay.”

“Still have to do paperwork,” Mario said. “Unless lover boy here marries you.” He elbowed me.

“He has girlfriend now,” Rosa said. “Too busy for marriage.”

Mario’s expression changed. “So why are you here then, if not to try and snag him?”

Rosa looked thoughtful. “Snag. What is snag?”

Mario said something in Spanish that sounded like “tramp.”

Rosa pushed back on her hair, smoothing the wild tresses away from her face. “
Dios mio
.”

“You come here. You force the boy on him.” Mario waved a waitress away. “What else should we think?”

Rosa pushed Manuelito out the end of the booth. “You are a bad man,” she said to Mario. Then to me, “You have my number. Tell me where to go to test. I will be there.”

She shoved the boy’s arms into his jacket and snatched up hers. I sat there, stewing, not sure what I was more angry about, Mario’s heavy-handed behavior or the situation itself. When the door jangled, I jumped up and ran after them.

“Wait, Rosa,” I said, catching up with them on the sidewalk. “
Halto
or
alta
or whatever.”

She stopped and turned around with eyes that were wet and glistening. “You never learn Spanish well at all, Gavinito.”

“I’m sorry Mario was so harsh. He’s looking out for me.”

Manuelito tugged on her hand. “
¡Paleta! ¡Paleta!
”

Rosa reached into her bag and produced another round lollipop. Manuelito grabbed it and struggled with the wrapper.

“I do not like him. He act like he would send me back.”

“It’s not an easy situation to explain to people.”

She took the lollipop back from Manuelito and tugged off the plastic. He stuck it in his mouth and laid his head against her leg.

“You must see him a lot for him to be so close to you.”

“He is a very happy boy. He trusts people.”

“Are you okay for money? Where are you staying?”

“I have a cousin.”

“Is it near here?”

“I can take bus.”

All I had was my bike, and I couldn’t exactly put both of them on it. “Okay. I will call you later, when I find a place to do the test.”

“Okay, Gavin.” She hesitated. “I do not wish to…snag you.”

“I know.”

“I just want the boy to have a father. His father. Letty’s man was no good.”

“I get it.”

“I know you have girlfriend.” She stared at the ground, and I remembered her telling me she was not a prostitute for anyone but me.

“What about you? No boyfriend? No one?”

“I have not. This—” she patted Manuelito’s head. “This is hard enough.”

“What about that cousin guy? Has he bothered you?”

She shook her head. “I leave my place. My family is to be outraged when they hear Letty say what happened.”

“Rosa, I wish I could do more.”

She caught her billowing hair with her hand. “Do the test, Gavin. Then we know what to do next.”

I nodded. She turned and headed up the street toward a bus stop. I’d done all I could do for now.
 

When she was well away, Mario came up from behind. “So what’s the plan?”

“Damn it, Mario, you scared the crap out of her.”

“Nah. She was up for it. But she’s going to be a problem if that kid is yours.”

We headed toward the garage. “Well, yeah. I have no idea what we’ll do.”

“I mean, that girl is totally over her head in love with you.”

I halted, turning back around to stare at the distant shapes of Rosa and the boy standing near the bench. “She was paid to like me.”

“I call bullshit on that. It’s all over her face.” He kicked at an acorn on the sidewalk. “So what’s the likelihood this kid is yours? Did you do this chick balls out?”

I sighed. “Apparently. The first time. It just happened.”

“You are one crazy idiot,” Mario said. We crossed the street to the garage. “You tell your girl yet?”

“I’m heading there now.”

“Better do it before this blows up in your face.”

“I’m on it.”

He stopped several yards from the open bays and clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck, man. You’re going to need it.”

Rather than cutting through the garage, I walked along the front to where my bike was parked on the other side. Time to head to the hospital, wait out the parents, and try to get Corabelle alone. I hoped she was doing better, or I didn’t know if I could shock her with this news. But it was definitely time to confess.

22: Corabelle

Gavin looked like hell when he poked his head in the door. He faked a smile, but I could still spot his moods, the real ones, not the facade he put on.