by Leah Atwood
She chewed on fries, drawing an image in her mind. “And a treasure in need of protection instead of a football?”
“Exactly. And when the crowd roared at the first touchdown, scored by a running back… I thought my heart would jump out of my chest. Something changed inside me. I wanted to be part of that. I wanted to belong.”
“You’ve achieved that and more,” she said as she finished the last shrimp taco on her plate.
Grandfather De La Vega wore a huge smile.
When they were done with their meals, Arturo helped his grandfather with the bolus insulin. She nodded her approval. As Arturo gestured for the check, Mari approached their table.
“Your dinners are on the house.” Tall and lanky, Mari looked like she never ate, but Lana knew her friend consumed large amounts of the restaurant’s fare. Mari called that “sampling.”
“Thank you, but you don’t need to do that,” Lana said.
“I know.” Mari brushed aside her long, blue-streaked bangs, a reminder of her rebellious teenage years. At least she no longer wore most of the metal chains she’d used to wear, and her jeans, while faded and old, were not torn.
Lana introduced Mari and Arturo.
A smirk appeared on Mari’s lips. “Great having you here. By the way, you’re still as popular as ever, in case you wondered. I promised a nice discount to my patrons tonight if they left you alone.” She turned to Lana. “To give you all the opportunity to have dinner in peace.” With that, her friend left.
Just when Mari was about to turn around the corner, she glanced back and gave Lana a small salute. Lana heaved a sigh of relief. The salute must mean Operation Grandpa was still on.
“I’ll be right back.” Arturo rose to his feet and disappeared after Mari.
What was all that about? Grandfather De La Vega and Lana exchanged curious glances.
Arturo came back quickly. “I bought that painting for you.” He gestured toward her favorite seascape.
Her eyes widened. “Thank you. But how did you know that I liked it?”
“You stared at it during a nice chunk of dinner.”
Heat crept up her neck. Most likely, she’d stared at him during a nice chunk of dinner, too.
“Would you like dessert?” Arturo asked.
Lana perked up. “I’d love some. Peach cobbler. Or pecan pie. At Evelyn’s Pastries.” If she had to announce she’d die if she couldn’t get pecan pie right this moment, she’d do it. Her enthusiasm became subdued when she glanced at Arturo’s grandfather, whose expression was unreadable. “But you might be tired.”
“No. Not at all.”
Arturo gave her a surprised look. Obviously, it wasn’t a good idea to take a diabetic to a pastry shop.
“Just trust me,” she mouthed to him.
Doubt lingering in his eyes, Arturo wheeled his grandfather outside while Lana held the door.
When, minutes later, they entered the shop, she started doubting herself. Delicious aromas of freshly baked pastries, mixed with the scent of pumpkin spice coffee, drifted to her. Was she sabotaging Grandfather De La Vega’s recovery? Some nurse she was.
“Good evening,” a petite blonde, her hair gathered in a high ponytail, greeted them from behind the counter. That must be Lydia. Lana swallowed hard. The cookie baskets must be done, and Lydia’s grandmother had probably already left.
But then, Evelyn appeared, in a snow-white pantsuit, an azure-blue blouse, earrings, and shoes giving her outfit some color. Regardless of her age, she stood tall and was a picture of regal elegance, as always. Her face held traces of beauty, and her short, attractively styled hair was more blonde than gray. She had the kind of wrinkles earned from smiling rather than frowning. The main reason Lana hoped for the success of Operation Grandpa was the kindness she glimpsed in the older woman’s eyes.
When Evelyn’s gaze stopped at Grandfather De La Vega, a subtle blush appeared on her cheeks.
Aha.
“The pecan pie today is fantastic,” Lydia chirruped. “Why don’t you try a slice?” She gestured toward a few tables, with only one of them unoccupied. “With a glass of eggnog. On the house.”
“On the house again? How do you people stay in business?” Grandfather De La Vega grumbled, but his lips twitched, as if he was trying to hide a smile. “Well, do you have anything sugar-free?”
“Sure thing.” Lydia seemed unflappable. “Grandma, why don’t you take a break? The baskets are almost done. Let me serve you some pie, too. But with all other tables occupied, maybe you can share one with this gentleman here?”
Lana held her breath.
Dear Lord, if that is Your will, please help me make this work between Grandfather De La Vega and Evelyn. Amen.
Evelyn hesitated and then nodded.
Yes!
“Please don’t forget to give yourself a bolus dose to counter the carbohydrates.” Lana gave Grandfather De La Vega an estimate. “I’ll check later. And please, please, please have only one slice of pie.”
Grandfather De La Vega stared at Evelyn as Arturo wheeled him to the table.
It might be already working.
Lana said a prayer of gratitude.
“As for us, we’ve got to run. We’ll pick you up later. We, um, need to buy some more presents.”
“We do?” Arturo looked from her to his grandfather and back again.
“Most certainly.” She hoped he’d get the hint and she wouldn’t have to push him out the door. Because there was no way she could push him even an inch.
“Oh, yes, we do.” He followed her outside.
“Yes!” She did a fist pump when they reached the red truck, excitement rushing through her veins, reinvigorating her.
“Would you like to pick up more presents for real? I’m game if you are.” Arturo opened the door for her.
With him being so close, her pulse became irrational again. Lana climbed inside the truck. “Why not? I know a large store on Main Street that’s open late. We haven’t visited it yet.”
Half an hour later, Arturo went to load all the boxes into the truck while she ran back for one more toy she’d seen on the third floor, a cute stuffed dog. She bought the toy and hurried to the elevator. Uh-oh. She grimaced at the sight of the crowd there and headed toward the stairs.
As she reached the top step, her ankle twisted, and her feet went out from under her. She gasped, unable to stop her fall. Her arms flailing, she tumbled down the stairs.
Chapter Nine
At the bottom of the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest, Lana wiggled her toes and then her fingers. She hadn’t heard a bone breaking, and no pain blinded her so far. People started gathering around her, and it was getting hard to breathe. She wanted to run away to escape all the curious glances. But she couldn’t.
“Lana!” Arturo rushed to her. “I came back to get a couple more presents. What happened?”
Lana groaned. She didn’t want him to see her like this.
Helpless.
Pitiful.
Her lips trembled as she tried to form words. “I took a way down faster than the elevators.” She ran her palms over her legs. Nothing hurt so far.
Thank You, Lord.
Her skin crawled under so many stares. How had she survived all those red carpet events with Michael in the past? “Please help me get out of here,” she whispered.
“I’ll call 9-1-1. You know well you shouldn’t be moved.” Arturo leaned closer, concern clear on his face. “What if you have a fracture? Or a broken bone?”
Old insecurities gnawed at her with sharp teeth, dredging up memories of angry, scolding voices.
You’re so clumsy. Why did you have to break your leg? Now you ruined my evening. Michael.
Did you drop that dish? You can’t do anything right! One of her foster parents.
Just look at you. You always get a cold, then pass it on to all of us. Or fall and break something. Two broken bones in one year is too much. Really, who’d want to adopt a kid like that? Mimi, one
of her foster siblings while she’d lived with the Smiths.
“Lana? Lana! People, move back please. Let her breathe.” Arturo’s voice, worried and gentle, made the voices of her past scurry away.
Her eyes burned from unshed tears. “I don’t have broken bones.” Something else had been broken inside her by so many people, for so many years. “Just take me home.”
He sighed. “Only if you agree to stop at the ER. Let them do an X-ray and run a CT scan. Things you insisted my grandfather should do when he fell.”
She couldn’t fight that logic. “Okay.” She struggled to get up with his help.
The next moment, Arturo scooped her up and carried her toward the exit. The crowd gave way.
“Thank you for letting me be a hero,” he whispered into her ear, his breath caressing the skin on her cheek.
A pleasant feeling entered her heart, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. If Operation Grandpa was successful, Arturo would leave soon. But at this moment, while being carried in his arms, she didn’t want to think about it.
* * *
Thankfully, it appeared to be a slow day at the ER with only one patient to be seen before Lana. Half an hour later, Lana received a clean bill of health. She and Arturo picked up Grandfather De La Vega, who looked as happy as a clam, and returned to his place with several slices of peach cobbler from Evelyn’s Pastries.
After they had unloaded the presents and Grandfather De La Vega had retired to his room for the night, his blood glucose surprisingly stable, she stayed for a glass of tea and peach cobbler.
Arturo and she talked about their favorite places in the United States and abroad. Apparently, they both loved the gorgeous mountains of Colorado and the Grand Canyon in Arizona, as well as sunsets at the ocean in California and at the local Gulf Coast.
As they talked about their childhood, she felt their connection strengthen. They both had been abandoned by their parents, though she had in a more literal way. Maybe that was the reason she understood his pain well, though he seemed to hide the pain better than she did.
“For a long time, I couldn’t forgive my birth parents for abandoning me,” Lana said. “After I met Mari, I realized some people had it worse than I did. I knew then that if I didn’t let go, it would eat up my soul.”
“My parents never intentionally hurt me. They just had issues they couldn’t deal with. But I still have trouble forgiving them,” Arturo said.
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I asked Clara Smith, one of my foster parents, how to find it in my heart to forgive my birth mother. Clara told me to write a letter to my mother. It didn’t matter if the letter would be received or not. And after I was done writing it, I could burn it. I did exactly as she said. I felt better.”
“I could try to write a letter to my parents,” he said thoughtfully.
She resisted the urge to reach for his hand. Only friendship. Nothing personal. “I know it’s none of my business, but I want to tell you something. Depression is a disease. Alcoholism is an addiction but a disease, too. Your parents didn’t emotionally abandon you because they didn’t love you. They were just… sick.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Is this what you believe?”
“This is what I choose to believe. I spent many years choosing to hate the fact that I was thrown out like a piece of garbage. Until I learned to choose to better myself, to fight for things I cared about. Adversity helps us grow.”
“I’d rather grow with caring parents.”
She sighed. “I don’t know why bad things happen in the world. But I believe God will make something good out of them. God will make something good out of me.”
“I think He already has.”
She sent Arturo a grateful smile. “You didn’t let your difficult childhood stop you. You’re a great football player, and I heard your team could win the championship this year. You’re very close to getting what you want.”
“But sometimes the hardest part is deciding exactly what we want and if it’s worth giving up our other dreams.”
She hadn’t noticed when they’d moved to the large couch. He stayed a respectable distance away, and Lana appreciated the opportunity to lean against the soft cushions and let her tired muscles rest. The fire in the artificial fireplace didn’t give heat to the already warm night, and she loved watching the orange and red tongues as they licked the dark wall.
Lana and Arturo talked about their favorite movies, food, and music. She mentioned how much she’d wanted to go to a Christmas dance during her high school years, but nobody had ever invited her.
She enjoyed listening to him talk about football. The way his eyes lit up was priceless. His irises were lighter than she’d thought, the color of honey, with dark specks.
“You know something strange? After meeting you, I feel like I need to regroup and reconnect. I’m not sure how to explain,” he said.
“Maybe you need to find an anchor? To search for purpose and meaning in your life?” she asked carefully.
“Yes! You understand me well. How do you understand me so well?”
“That was the reason I moved here,” she said quietly. “But in my case, I was also walking away from the life another person designed for me. I wanted a life of my own.”
“What’s your dream?” Arturo brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“Live my own life where I’m respected and needed.” Her skin tingled where his fingertips touched her. “And… I want a family. Children.” Michael had never shared that dream of hers.
“That’s a worthy dream.” Respect and admiration shone in Arturo’s voice.
Another part of the wall surrounding her heart came down. Lana looked away to avoid showing him how much his validation affected her. The desperate hunger for praise and appreciation had led her down the wrong path before, to the wrong man, wrong profession, wrong life.
“I’ll be right back. I need to check on Grandpa.” Arturo left the room.
When he returned, they talked some more about growing up in a small Texas town, about their friends, even about their goofball moments.
“What’s your dream?” she asked after she laughed so hard her insides started hurting. It was time to change to something serious.
“To help sick children who want to play football,” he said.
By the tone of his voice, the sad expression in his eyes, she knew he meant those words.
“A very worthy dream. I hope you achieve it.”
The bond between them had deepened over the course of this evening. Was it a good thing? Probably not, considering he’d soon return to Houston and his life there. Her heart squeezed in her chest.
“Is something wrong?” Arturo asked.
“It’s getting late. I need to go.”
“Don’t!” He hesitated. “I mean… I enjoy talking to you. But I understand you’re tired and need to get up early…”
In reality, she didn’t want the evening to end. Was she naïve to think he’d felt the connection between them, too? “When do you have to be back?” she whispered.
“Tomorrow morning.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I have to honor my obligations to my team. I need to convince my stubborn Grandpa to go with me. At least for a while. I hope for a miracle.”
“I totally forgot to tell you the details about Operation Grandpa.”
His eyebrows quirked. “Operation Grandpa?”
“The mission to help your grandfather. He and Evelyn already exchanged phone numbers. Information was verified with Mari who verified it with Lydia. I have a feeling he’ll ask Evelyn for a date tomorrow. I called several parishioners, and we started praying for your grandfather. Tomorrow and in the days afterward, I’ll check on your grandfather throughout the day, besides my regular visits.”
His eyes brightened. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said with conviction.
Lana lifted her hand. “Hold on. That’s not all. I called in reinforcements. Lady Grace will ask parishioners to stop
by. She’ll call your grandfather’s veteran friends. She’s sure they’ll be happy to drop by. She’ll visit, too. She’s a retired nurse and also has tons of patience. One of the members of the knitting club is a diabetes educator. The club intends to have a very long meeting tomorrow. As for Evelyn, if she’s keen on the idea, I’ll give her a crash course about diabetes and how to use the insulin pump. We’ll take care of your grandfather.”
Hope illuminated Arturo’s face. “You’d do all that?”
“Yes. I have to give you fair warning. Knowing how independent Grandfather De La Vega is, we might drive him crazy. But we’ll do our best to make sure he’s okay.”
“I can fly to Houston tomorrow morning and fly back in the evening. You have no idea how much that means to me. I owe you.” He hugged her tightly.
“You don’t owe me anything,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “Your grandpa is great. I’m happy to help.” She wasn’t so sure she was doing it only for Grandfather De La Vega. When Arturo held her in his arms, butterflies waltzed in her stomach.
After easing out of his embrace, she looked at the grandfather clock. Eleven o’clock? She jumped to her feet. “Yikes! I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Sorry for keeping you so long.”
“No! I enjoyed it.” More than she should have.
He walked her to her car. “I’ll follow you.”
“It’s a small town, and I live in a rather safe neighborhood.” As she approached the front lawn, she smiled at the sight of reindeer and a sleigh. She’d seen them several times during the day, but they looked so much more beautiful at night.
She clicked her car open and turned around to say good-bye. He brushed his lips against the skin of her cheek, and her heartbeat went wild.
“Have a great practice. Good-bye, Arturo.” Her thoughts chaotic, she slipped inside her vehicle and took off.
On the way home, she glanced in the rearview mirror several times. A red truck followed her from the De La Vega driveway all the way to her small cottage. In spite of her protest, Arturo had accompanied her. Another part of the wall around her heart fell down.
