Forever Starts Tomorrow (20 page)

She fixed him two sandwiches that he devoured in a second, followed by a refill of his milk. She watched him eat, her thoughts spinning in a circle. What was she supposed to do? Call Scott or Raoul? Or maybe both? Melanie could only imagine how worried his family must have been when they discovered he was gone.

‘Scott must have been so disappointed to find out about me.’ He stopped eating and looked at her, his expression sad. ‘You know, to find out his dad had another family and a kid. I know I would be mad.’

‘His parents were divorced for many years, so I honestly don’t think Scott saw it like that.’ She reached for the paper and scrunched it into a ball, the spiteful words and images disappearing into a colorful hodgepodge. ‘This is rubbish, José. We should get rid of it as soon as possible and forget the whole thing.’

He didn’t protest when she threw it out. He kept staring into space, his eyes huge.

‘I wish I could live with you and Scott,’ he admitted suddenly, his face serious. Melanie could tell that he had already put a lot of thought into that idea. It wasn’t crazy at all. To be honest, she had already thought of it too, and was pretty certain that it had crossed Scott’s mind as well. Not exactly the beginning of their life together she had imagined, but definitely something she could get used to. Memories of her own childhood came back, assaulting her with images of all the unhappy days of her life under her stepdad’s roof. Growing up in a house where she wasn’t really wanted had taught her a lesson she wouldn’t forget. Children deserved better, regardless of the convoluted impasses the adults might find themselves in.

‘They’d probably not miss me at all.’ His lip quivered, and Melanie had an epiphany, finally understanding the real issue. José loved his family—his uncle, his cousin, his baby niece. As much as he liked Scott and enjoyed staying over, he didn’t really want to leave them, not permanently.

There must be some kind of middle-ground solution that could be arranged, she thought excitedly, impatient to share her ideas with Scott and Raoul.

‘Look, José.’ She hoped he’d play along. ‘You can't just run off; you know that. I do get it, really, more than you probably think.’ She had his attention. He watched her with a veiled caution that reminded her very much of Scott. ‘We need to contact your family and Scott.’ She saw him open his mouth to protest but kept talking. ‘Scott has managed to convince your uncle to renovate his home. I know that he hopes to get him to move to a different house and sell that one.’ Melanie smiled encouragingly. José's silence was a good sign. ‘Then, you’d live much closer to Scott, and I'm certain that eventually you could spend some time at his place. Wouldn’t that be good?’

‘My uncle is very stubborn.’ José sighed, finished off his milk, and looked longingly at the tray of fruit on the kitchen counter. She brought it to the table, setting it in front of him.

‘He hates owing people, you know.’ He was peeling a banana, the scent of the ripe fruit turning her stomach again. She managed to swallow and ignore it, praying she wouldn’t get sick in front of José.

‘That’s why we need to talk about everything.’ Her proactive nature hated waiting. ‘You have to tell everyone how you feel, especially your uncle. I am pretty sure that Ramona will support you.’

‘She will. I know she hates our house.’ José smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. ‘Maybe we can team up like superheroes, right?’

‘Exactly.’ It was time to make the phone call. For a second she hesitated, remembering Scott’s busy schedule. That had certainly qualified as an emergency. He’d want to know about his brother wandering the streets all by himself, right?

Scott didn’t pick up. She sent him a few messages while she sat with José, who found her stack of old comics and read, his attention absolutely arrested. She tried calling again. No answer. She remembered Scott telling her on numerous occasions how he’d turn off his phone while working on the final touches of a project. He’d immerse himself in his work and refuse to talk to anyone from the outside world, Melanie included. It didn’t bother her to that very moment.

Trying to contact Raoul also failed. He had a new phone, thanks to Scott, but her call was forwarded to his mailbox, which wasn’t set up yet. She suspected that was Raoul's way of dealing with Scott’s gift. You could bring the horse to the water but you couldn’t make it drink. Marnie was also unavailable, her cheerful recorded voicemail prompting Melanie to leave a message.

In the end, she managed to convince José to let her drive him home. She could only imagine the worry his family must have been going through, phone or no phone.

She promised José that Scott would still come by, before the funeral that was scheduled for noon the next day. He’d have time then to talk to his big brother and ask him as many questions as he wanted.

They climbed into her old trusty Fiat, the small car that had been her companion since her college days, ten years ago. Scott had wanted to get her a new car, complaining about the safety and reliability of that road veteran. She told him that she liked it. She had saved every penny to pay for it when she started her studies, and she wasn’t ready to replace it with one of those sleek modern machines he preferred.

Driving to Raoul’s house was nerve-racking, mostly because she had no idea what to expect. The older man seemed pretty set in his ways and might not appreciate her butting in like that. Scott had already pushed his buttons, and Melanie hoped he wouldn’t blow up in front of José. As they drove, chatting with the boy about unrelated issues was a challenge, but she managed. The view of a small bakery just a few blocks from their destination gave her an idea.

‘Say, why don’t we bring a peace offering to your uncle?’ She slowed down, undeterred by the poor exterior. The peeling sign read
Antojitos
in faded letters. Two large windows gave a good view of the interior, a display of cakes, cookies, muffins, and some other goodies she didn’t even recognize compensating for the mediocre first impression. And then there was the scent. As she opened the car door, parking in one of the three available spots, it wafted toward her, warm vanilla, chocolate, and coconut making her mouth water in anticipation.

‘If it tastes half as good as it smells, your uncle will not be able to resist us.’ She smiled at José before grabbing her purse. ‘Want to come with me and give me some tips as to what he likes?’

It was actually fun. The small, clean room welcomed them with soft music and even more scents. José’s face lit up at the sight of all the chocolate. They took their time, searching and choosing, neither of them in a rush to get going. A box—colorful and large—was filled slowly as they moved around the shop, José translating some of the names for Melanie.

A quick glance at her phone showed that Scott still hadn't picked up her messages, and she felt frustration bubble up inside her. She wanted him to be with her, sorting out the mess.

They paid and stepped out, José’s gallant offer to help making Melanie smile. He was a little gentleman, carrying the box and trying to open the door for her all at the same time. They chatted as they walked toward the car, which was parked in the spot farthest from the shop. It was the only place that was shady so it was the logical choice, given that the sun was beating down with an unexpected viciousness.

Suddenly, the bakery clerk appeared in the doorway, waving at them and calling something in Spanish. She glanced at José, who grinned and explained.

‘They forgot to give us one of our boxes. He just noticed it was still on the counter.’

‘All right. You go to the car, OK? I’ll grab it and be back in a second.’ She used the remote to open her car, the beeping loud and cheerful in the quiet, sun-drenched lot, before retracing her steps.

The clerk waiting in front of the shop flooded her with a waterfall of cheerful Spanish peppered with some English words, enough for her to understand that he hoped she would enjoy their goods.

She turned back. What happened next, neither of them could have anticipated. She tried to think about it many times afterwards, but all she could recall was a hazy blur of pictures blending into each other. Adrenaline pumped through her whole body, making thinking difficult.

The motorcycle appeared out of nowhere. A huge, black-and-silver machine was swerving on the gravel parking lot, its speed dangerously high. Something is wrong with it, was her first thought when she realized that it wasn't slowing down as it scraped along the pavement. Its wavy path was obviously random. José was next to the car, both of his arms occupied with the box, and it took him a second longer to notice the commotion. She saw the expression on his face change from surprise to terror, as he stood still, unable to move.

The bike could hit him, was her last coherent thought, before she dropped the bag and sprinted to his rescue.

‘Move away,’ she yelled, her voice hoarse with fear, but he didn’t hear her. He stared at the bike. Some part of Melanie's brain figured that he was reliving his mom’s accident, which had only been only a few years ago. Wasn't she hit by a careless driver? She had to get to José before it was too late.

Things accelerated from there, each passing mini-second more frightening than the previous one. She saw the bike come closer, the details of the silver skulls and flames oddly hypnotic. The driver lay slouched against the handles, his head at an odd angle. He must have passed out, she realized; his big bulky body was totally passive. The race against the machine lasted only few seconds, but she felt as if her feet were treading in quicksand, pulling her in and slowing down each step.

She managed to reach José first, her hands pushing him out of the path of the monster bike just as it hit her car, smashing into the passenger side with a sickening crunch. Melanie tried to duck to the side, but the heavy, metal handle caught her arm, and pain like she'd never experienced before exploded in her left side. She knew her arm was broken, the sharp needles of misery making her eyes water. She managed to disentangle herself from the machine, only then noticing the driver’s face, which was pale and covered with sweat. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing in shallow gasps, his leather-clad chest rising and falling in rapid movements.

‘Melanie, are you OK?’ José appeared out of nowhere, his face terrified. She nodded, not trusting her voice to sound normal enough to reassure him.

‘Madre de Dios!’ The shopkeeper helped her to her feet, his eyes wide with panic. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘A bit,’ she mumbled, her teeth starting to chatter from shock. José was all right, she told herself, trying very hard to calm the growing wave of hysteria. He was absolutely fine, except for getting scared. She had to keep it together, if only to avoid freaking him out even more. Her arm throbbed, protesting her lack of attention. She moved her fingers gingerly and held her breath, electrical currents shooting up her arm and changing the static pain into something even more torturous. It was broken all right.

She let the clerk lead her to the sidewalk and sit her down, and then he called for reinforcement. Soon two other people from the shop helped move the biker to the grass, and one of them called emergency services.

José came to sit with her, his skinny frame pressed against her side. They listened to the wailing of the ambulance and watched the blue and red lights of the police cruiser, and the parking lot soon swarmed with people. The shopkeeper brought them drinks, icy cold water that stiffened her lips and slid coolly down her throat. The paramedics performed CPR on the biker and then whisked him away on a stretcher. His large body looked oddly vulnerable. Melanie hoped he’d be OK.

‘He probably had a heart attack.’ She looked up to see a young couple standing next to her. They must have been other motorists who had stopped to get baked goods. ‘Man, the way he slammed into your car, it was sick. Good thing you got the kid out just when you did, otherwise he’d be a pancake.’

That wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have with José listening. She forced herself to rise to her feet, ignoring the pain in her arm.

‘Ma’am.’ One of the paramedics reached out to Melanie, his face full of concern. ‘You shouldn’t be walking right now. I’ll come assess you in just a second, after we finish with this gentleman. There's another ambulance on its way. Sorry about the delay.’

She didn’t need to be assessed. She knew that she'd broken her arm. The pain made her vision blur with dancing spots each time she moved too fast. What she needed was to make sure the whole José drama was sorted out.

She used her right hand to fish her phone out of her bag; she gritted her teeth to stop herself from whimpering. José seemed distracted by the police cruiser that had stopped near them, its colorful lights still on.

‘Marnie?’ She actually picked up, thank goodness. Melanie had no idea what she would have done otherwise. The paramedics insisted on driving her to the hospital for a checkup, even though she found it the idea ridiculous. She was in pain, but not disabled, really. Her car was another story, however—it was seriously dented, and its front wheel was turned at an odd angle. It needed to be towed. Melanie needed to make sure someone would take care of José while she was being assessed at the hospital, and contacting Scott was not an option. He was probably still deep in the bowels of his testing phase, refusing to take phone calls.

She filled Marnie in, downplaying the events. She asked Marnie to meet her at the hospital, hurriedly repeating the address given her by a friendly paramedic. She could tell that Marnie wanted to know more, but Melanie had neither time nor patience to play along. The fact that they were just a few blocks away from Raoul’s house frustrated her beyond measure. If she hadn't come up with the brilliant idea of making a stop, they would be already at his home, sipping a cold drink and talking. She’d prefer to wait for Marnie and drive there, instead of going to the hospital, but both of the paramedics insisted on her coming along.

They drove off, José staying at her side as the ambulance wove its way through thickening midday traffic. She watched him relax as he accepted the fact she wasn’t seriously hurt. He looked around the inside of the ambulance, impressed with the various machines and switches and soon drowning the paramedic with questions.