The Wishing Tree (3 page)

"No," he said after a moment. "I don't need a doc. But … it's getting late—"

Maria
laid the cloth in the basin, then placed her hands carefully on his chest. "Please … don't go, Pete."

His heart lurched, then pounded more furiously than it had during the entire time he'd been giving
Julio the beating he deserved. His lips curved.
She had to be joking
. Or … maybe he misunderstood.

"I have to." He started to sit up, but
Maria pressed him gently back into the couch. Though he could have moved forward and stood up, he let himself be pushed back into the homey comfort of the old sofa.

"No. I want you – I mean, if you wouldn't mind—" She broke off, then met his gaze directly. "Would you stay? I'd feel better with you here."

His throat went dry as sand, but he knew it had nothing to do with the fight he'd been in. It was the tenderness in her dark eyes, beseeching him not to go – an invitation there was no way he could refuse – although, a part of him said he should. He swallowed hard and nodded. "All right, sweetheart. I'll stay."

Relief and gratitude filled her expression. "Thank you." She shivered, and he pulled her close to him.

"If you'll get me a blanket, I'll bed down here on the couch."

"Oh, no!" She raised her head from his shoulder. "You will sleep on the bed—"

"No, I'm not gonna take your bed."

"I'm going to sit with you. You might have a concussion. You—"

He laughed. "I'm okay. Promise."

She stood up, putting her hand out to him.

He took it, and rose slowly, trying to surreptitiously support his battered ribs on the left side. But nothing escaped Ria's worried appraisal.

She glanced at where his other hand had automatically gone, and then caught the look he'd given her to see if she'd noticed.

"Pete—"

"Shhh." He put a finger to her lips. "It's not so bad."

"'Not so wide as a church door,' Mercutio?"

He gave a short laugh. "It would take more than a hard punch from a street punk to kill me, Ria. Believe me, I've been through far worse." She turned toward her bedroom and he followed her, determined to get some answers.

Ria considered herself a strong woman, but every time Julio showed up at her doorstep, she was reminded of how weak she truly was.

Julio
was dangerous. He cared for nothing in the world, except the drugs he depended on. Pete would never want a second dinner date with her, she was certain. Not after this fiasco.

She pulled the covers back quickly and
Pete sat on the edge of the bed. He bent to remove his shoes, but drew up short, kicking them off instead.

"Is … this the side you sleep on?" he asked
Ria shook her head, touched by his thoughtfulness in such a small detail. "No. Just lie down and relax. If you aren't better in the morning, we're going to the doctor."

Pete
grinned at the possessiveness in her words. "Yes, ma'am."

She blushed. "I'm so sorry this happened."

Pete carefully lay back, turning onto his right side. "Ria, tell me what's going on."

How she would love to unburden herself!
Pete seemed to genuinely care for her and for Miguel. But that was sure to be done with after what transpired here tonight. Everyone had their own troubles, didn't they? No one needed to take on someone else's problems.

"How long has your brother been terrorizing you like this?"

She started to deny it, to protest the use of a sword so strong … but wasn't that what it was? Every time Julio came here, she could feel nothing but fear –
terror –
until the door closed behind him as he left. Even locks couldn't keep him out.

She sank down onto the bed beside
Pete, choosing her words carefully. "Julio fell in with the bad crowd in high school. He began using drugs, and he joined a gang. My parents were devastated. My father and Julio had a terrible fight one night about it. Julio took a swing at Papa and Papa laid him out cold on the living room floor."

What a night that had been.
Maria and her younger brother and sister had fled to a bedroom and shut the door. Even after Papa had knocked Julio out, the yelling continued between Papa and Mama.

When
Julio had come to, Papa had packed a suitcase with all of Julio's clothing, and shown him the door.

"I gather he must have left home at that point,"
Pete commented dryly.

Ria smiled at his tease. "Yes. Papa disowned him. Mama never forgave him for it.
Julio was her first child … sometimes, it seemed, he was her
only
child, and the rest of us were not important."

Pete
gave a low whistle.

"That's why he still believes whatever he wants to do should be all right."

Pete quirked an eyebrow. "Even coming here and threatening his little sis?"

"That isn't new. He was always a bully."

"How can you afford to give him any money, Ria? Look – I know it's hard, being a single mom. I'm sure it's tough to make ends meet."

Ria looked down. "I can't afford a spare penny. I wouldn't give it to him voluntarily, if I had it. But … he leaves me no choice."

"Has he
hit
you?"

Ria knew her silence was an answer in itself.

Pete gave a low curse, then reached for her, gathering her close to him, just holding her.

Ria swallowed past the lump in her throat. She would not cry.
Pete stroked her hair in silent comfort. After a moment, he said, "I'm gonna put a lock on your door he can't get into."

"No. I've tried that. He kicked the door in."

"
Bastard
."

No matter what, Ria knew she had to tell him how she felt. It was important that he understand how much his actions meant to her. "Thank you,
Pete. Thank you for standing up to him. No matter what happens tomorrow, thank you for staying with me tonight."

* * * * *

Pete heard the uncertainty in her voice. She'd thought he would walk out once it was over. She thought this was the end of things between them – that he'd want nothing more to do with her.

"I'm gonna do a lot more than that, honey," he murmured.

She lifted her head to look at him.

"I'm gonna be right here with you for the next few days. If you want me to be," he added.

"Oh, Pete – " she started to protest, but he interrupted.

"Ria, I want to do this. Look – I don't understand this pull between us any more than you do – but I know you feel it, too."

She nodded, putting her head back down against him. "Yes. I haven't trusted anyone for a long time. But you make it so easy."

At that admission, he relaxed.
How could this be anything but right?
She'd just put into words the way he'd felt for such a long, long time. "I … haven't trusted anyone, either. I know how hard it is."

"But, you have your own life to deal with – work, other … attachments—"

He chuckled. "I'm not seeing anyone else." Then a sobering thought crossed his mind. "Are you?"

She shook her head. "No. Not for a long time."

"Seems we both decided to take a chance here, lady."

"I'm glad."

He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Ria …
Miguel told me his father was killed in the war."

She stiffened in his arms. "That's not true,
Pete," she whispered, anxiety lacing her words. "But I could never tell him what really happened."

"You don't have to tell me, either. It doesn't matter. If that's what he believes, I'll play along. Every boy needs a hero."

"His father was anything but a hero."

"
Was
?"

"He was killed last year. In a gang fight." She began to move as if to rise, but
Pete held her to him tenderly.

"Hey – we don't have to talk about it."

She relaxed against him once more. "We were never married. Miguel never knew him."

"
Miguel's a good boy." He tried to steer the conversation away from what had upset her, but she was determined to tell him the truth, and when she raised her head to look at him, he saw that she believed it might end everything.

"His name was
Armando Santos. He was one of Julio's friends. One evening I left school late after a student council meeting. He drove by me and asked if I needed a ride. Like an idiot, I said yes. I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn't know
how
bad." She moved closer, as if Pete's embrace could keep her safe as she remembered. "He drove to the country and—" She broke off.

Pete
breathed a deep sigh. "You don't have to say any more," he whispered, wishing he could do something, say something to take away her pain.

"
Miguel – he
is
a good boy. He deserves so much better than the father he had. I'm glad he never knew him. It just seemed better to make something up when he began to ask questions."

"You've done a great job with him,"
Pete said. There was so much more he wanted to say, but it was too soon. So much had happened in this one day that it seemed unreal. And he didn't want to rush into anything – especially not something this important.

Yet, how could he not?
Maria Sanchez was a beautiful woman who was obviously attracted to him. Proud and strong, she'd made her own way in the world for her and her son. It sure as hell hadn't been an easy path for her either, from the sound of things.

He felt himself drifting as sleep began to steal over him. He could get used to this … falling asleep with Ria in his arms every night.

"Sleep, now," he heard her say softly. "I'll be right here, if you need me."

The next morning, Pete awoke to the smell of pancakes and bacon. He could hear
Miguel and Ria in the kitchen together, their talk and laughter brought a smile to his lips.

He sat up slowly, his ribs giving a painful twinge, but not nearly as bad as he expected.

He glanced in the dresser mirror. Ria had washed most of the blood from his face and neck, but he couldn't wait to get a shower. He'd have to go back to his place for that, where there were clean clothes to be had. He quickly raked his hair down with his fingers, then opened the bedroom door.

"Good morning," Ria said as he came into the dining room. She set a mug of coffee on the table. "Black, or do you want cream and sugar?"

"Black," Pete answered, pulling out a chair. "And thank you."

"Mama says I can't drink coffee until I'm older,"
Miguel reported. "But I have milk. It builds strong bones."

"Your mama's right,"
Pete responded. He winked at Ria as she gave him a smile. "
He
sounds like a commercial."

She laughed, setting a plate of cut-up pancakes in front of
Miguel. "I've said that myself. He remembers everything."

"Not everything, Mama. I forgot to make my wish this morning on the wishing tree." He took a bite. "But I'll do it after breakfast."

Ria gave him a quizzical look, and put a plate of food in front of Pete. "The wishing tree?"

"Uh-huh. That's what I call it. Our tree we decorated last night. 'Cause I wished for it, and we got it. Then I wished for blinky lights and we got those. But – I don't believe you only get three wishes. I think our tree is
full
of wishes!"

Ria sat down and cut into her pancakes, and
Pete knew she was trying to come up with some way of telling Miguel not to get his hopes up.
She didn't have money for presents.

"I'm going to wish for a Batman car after breakfast."

"You know, Miguel, we don't get everything we wish for," she said.

He laid his fork down and solemnly looked at her. "I'm still going to wish for a Batman car. It might come true."

"That's a great idea," Pete said. "Batman was always my favorite, too."

Ria shot him a look.

"If you don't try, it certainly can't happen," he said. "Not all wishes come true, but some do – and how can they ever have a chance if you don't wish for them in the first place?"

Ria nodded. "I guess that's true. We have to take chances on things, don't we?"

Pete smiled at her cryptic words. "Some things turn out better than we ever could've hoped for."

* * * * *

After breakfast, they piled into Pete's truck and headed for his house. Though Ria insisted they'd be fine staying at the apartment, Pete couldn't shake the memories of the way Julio had looked last night – like a rabid animal, snarling, angry, and ready to hurt whatever got in his way ... including his own sister and nephew.

"What about work?" she'd asked him, worried still she was keeping him from something more important. Suddenly, he wondered what that would be? What could be more important than Ria and
Miguel?

"I'm off today and tomorrow," he said. It was two days until Christmas Eve. Most people had already bought their trees, but there would always be a few who'd come at the last minute. He knew
David and Eric would be able to handle things, even if he took off the rest of the week.

"Oh, well … that's good," Ria said sincerely. "I don't want you missing work days for us,
Pete."

He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "You worry too much. What good is it being the boss' son if I don't get to take off whenever I want?" Truth was, he couldn't remember the last vacation he'd taken. Hell, he couldn't remember the last two days in a row he'd taken off.

"What are we going to do today?" Miguel asked from the backseat.

"I'm gonna get clean before we do
anything
," Pete said.

"Then can we go somewhere?"

"Miguel—" Ria began.

"Sure,"
Pete answered, squeezing her hand. "Where did you want to go?"

"To Hooper's Theater,"
Miguel answered with no hesitation.

"What's happenin' at Hooper's, big guy?"
Pete glanced into the rearview mirror.

"Movie marathon!"

"It's a Christmas cartoon and movie marathon for kids," Ria explained. "I haven't had the money to do those kinds of things for a while now."

"Want to do it?"
Pete asked softly.

"You may not care about it. We don't have to—"

"I love movies. My treat, okay?"

She smiled. "I'd love to go."

Pete glanced in the mirror again, meeting Miguel's hopeful look.

"They say it's a Christmas extravaganza…"

At that, Ria and Pete both laughed. "We're gonna go see for ourselves," Pete assured him, "as soon as I get presentable."