by Luanne Rice
“I trained you both,” Jack said. “Glad to know you’re so thorough. This one’s mine, okay? One of my old cases.”
“Okay, but if there’s any blowback . . .”
“There won’t be,” Jack said.
Julia and Roberto pushed through the turnstile, then walked through the gate in the fence, and they were in Mexico.
Jack
“Tonk.” That word had made Louella sick, and hearing it turned his stomach now. It had been coined long ago to describe illegal border crossers and referred to the sound made by a sap hitting a skull. He put it out of his mind as he turned to see Julia and Roberto, clutching each other’s hands, coming toward him.
“Welcome back,” he said to Roberto. He wasn’t sure whether he meant it ironically or not. Roberto had kept one arm tightly around Julia and was craning his neck to look for Rosa.
“Is she here?” Julia asked.
“Yeah,” Jack said.
They began to walk toward the street where Jack had left his SUV. The town was lively as usual on a Saturday night, hopping with locals and Americans who’d crossed for the evening.
Small, flat-roofed, brightly painted houses rose on the hillside—local officials supplied free colorful paint to residents who wanted to spiff up their homes. Jack knew they wanted to make a good impression on people looking through the wall from the U.S. side.
He walked ahead of Julia and Roberto, feeling more emotional than he had expected. Louella would have loved this: bringing a family together. The SUV was parked two blocks away under a streetlamp—he’d wanted to keep the occupants completely safe, and you never knew what might happen in a border town on a Saturday night or any night.
Ronnie, Marisol, and Rosa had followed in their car, but he felt it would be safer to have the three of them wait in his. He slowed down as they walked toward the SUV.
“She’s been through a lot,” he said to Roberto.
“I’m sure,” Roberto said. He still hadn’t spotted the SUV. “How far is she from here?”
“We’re close,” Jack said.
“But where?” he asked, craning his neck. “I need to see her.”
“Where has she been living?” Julia asked.
“She got very lucky,” Jack said. “Three guardian angels found her—three sisters, all of them nurses. She’s been living in Altar with Marisol, the youngest, and her family. They’ve made sure Rosa’s had excellent care.”
“Altar,” Roberto said, his voice cracking. “Where we started from.”
“That’s what Rosa says,” Jack said.
The street was dim, but as they approached the streetlight, he could see his SUV—Ronnie in the front seat, Marisol and Rosa in the back. He waved, and saw Ronnie give a half turn. The back door flew open and Rosa jumped out. Jack looked at Roberto, saw the look in his eyes.
“Papá!” Rosa shouted.
“Rosa!”
They ran to each other and Roberto fell to his knees, holding Rosa in his arms, rocking her back and forth. The sisters remained in the SUV, and Jack and Julia stood where they were. He heard Julia sobbing quietly, and he did what Louella would have—slipped his arm around her as if she were his own daughter, and let her tears soak his shoulder.
chapter twenty-three
Julia
She met Ronnie and Marisol, and heard about Bernarda. Marisol wiped away tears, saying how hard it would be to live without Rosa, she’d become part of the family, she wanted Roberto to know that she and her sisters and husband and children were now his family too, that they would help however they could.
She listened to Jack reassure Ronnie that he would keep this whole scenario under the radar, maybe she’d gone against regulations, but sometimes rules were made to be broken, just look at how beautifully this story was turning out.
After a few minutes, Roberto turned and gestured to Julia. Julia had been holding Maria since they left their car on the other side, and she started to hand the doll to Roberto now.
“You, amor,” he said. “You give it to her . . .”
Julia beamed to see the little girl she felt she already knew so well.
“Hola, Rosa,” she said, crouching down.
“Rosa, this is Julia,” Roberto said in Spanish. “She helped me find you.”
“Gracias, Julia,” Rosa said, barely able to tear her gaze from her father.
Rosa had grown at least six inches since the picture had been taken. Julia couldn’t resist comparing her to Jenny at eleven—they were about the same height, both skinny, with a vivid intelligence in their bright eyes.
“Your father never stopped looking for you,” Julia said. She held out the doll.
“Maria!” Rosa said, hugging and kissing her. “How, Papá? I lost her!”
“When your father was searching for you, he found Maria along the way.”
“I knew he would come for me,” Rosa said.
“You speak English!”
“You too, Papá. We learn in school.”
Nearly six years without each other, Julia thought. Rosa held Maria as if she were a baby. She wore glasses. She stole shy glances at Julia but had wide-open eyes for her father, staring at him with such love and intensity it made Julia cry. She walked a few feet away and turned her head, to hide it from all of them.
Roberto’s arms came around her. She pressed her face into his chest, felt Rosa glued to his leg. It made her smile in spite of herself.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said.
“Julia, without you . . .”
“Roberto, it was always meant to be.”
He shook his head. “Fate is different for Mexicans,” he said. “If you were not in my life, Rosa wouldn’t be either.”
“I’ve loved being in your life,” she said.
He held her face between his hands, looked deeply into her eyes. “Siempre, amor. You are in my life forever.”
“But you can’t come back with me,” she said. “You’re here now.”
“I know. Rosa and I will return to my town.”
“You’ll see your grandmother.”
“Sí,” he said. “And I’ll work in the lemon orchard, but I’ll be thinking of ours.”
“Ours?” she asked.
“Our lemon orchard,” he said. “On the mountain by the sea, with Bonnie and Jenny. The place we fell in love.”
Julia nodded, hugged him for a long time, until she heard the others approaching. The plan was for Roberto and Rosa to return to Marisol’s house for the night, and tomorrow the family would drive them home—to their small farm town south of Puebla.
“Julia,” Marisol said, “would you and Jack like to come over, have something to eat with us? We are not far away.”
Julia glanced at Jack. He nodded, about to accept.
“No, thank you,” she said. “I should be getting back.”
“Amor,” Roberto said, “it’s a long drive for you alone. Please . . .”
She shook her head. She felt her throat burning, and she wasn’t even sure she could speak. Goodbyes hurt so terribly. For years she had rewritten what she would say to Jenny, how she wished she could have held on to her forever. Right now, just as then, her heart was breaking and she knew another hour or two would not change anything.
She put her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoes so their eyes were level. “Siempre. Just as you said before,” she whispered so the others couldn’t hear.
“Siempre,” he whispered back.
His arms felt so strong and familiar. She closed her eyes for a moment, so she’d always remember the feeling of them around her shoulders. Rosa was waiting for him. She bent down, kissed the top of Rosa’s head. Then she kissed the doll and said, “Maria, take good care of Rosa and Roberto.”
“S
he will,” Rosa said.
Julia and Roberto held hands but Julia backed away until there was space between them and then she looked at him for the last time and turned away. She heard the sisters speaking Spanish, and car doors closing, and an engine starting.
Jack held open the passenger door of the SUV and she got in.
“You might want to wave,” he said. “Roberto’s standing on the street watching you.”
“Just drive,” she said.
And Jack did. As they pulled away, she stole a quick glance behind her and saw Roberto standing beside the sisters’ car, not waving, not moving, just watching. Jack stopped the SUV, as if to give her one last chance to run back. She didn’t. In the side-view mirror, she saw Roberto finally climb into the car. Ronnie flashed her lights and beeped her horn, and Jack returned the signal.
Julia looked back and watched the car drive down the street, turn the corner, and disappear.
“You okay?” Jack asked.
“No,” she said.
“You will be,” he said.
He dropped her off at the parking lot, made sure she got into her car okay, and followed her out of Nogales. As she headed west, she knew he was behind her, and he stayed there the whole way to Yuma, where he turned off at his exit. He motioned her to do the same.
She felt reluctant, but did as he asked.
At the bottom of the exit ramp, he lowered his window and had her pull alongside. He handed her the Tim O’Brien CD.
“You need this,” he said.
“No, you love it.”
“Your ancestor would want you to have it,” he said. “And my wife would, too. She was a great romantic, Julia. Maybe she and John Riley will even inspire you to head down to old Mexico. I’m sure Roberto will be waiting.”
“Thanks, Jack,” she said, and drove away.
The car smelled of Roberto—a combination of sweat, dirt, Polo, and lemons. She wanted the scent to cling to her skin; she never wanted to let it go. She glanced into the rearview mirror, to the back seat where Maria had been. This old Volvo had once driven Jenny around. She was with her still, every minute, and now their family car was filled with love for Roberto and Rosa, too.
Siempre, Roberto had said.
Julia wasn’t tired at all. She knew she’d drive straight back to L.A., stop at Roberto’s father’s house to tell him what had happened, and pick up Bonnie. She couldn’t wait to see her.
Maybe she would take her straight to Lion’s house. No matter the time, he wouldn’t mind being awakened. Julia would tell him the amazing, miraculous story of how they had found Rosa. She knew he would be overjoyed.
But oh, how it hurt to know the seat beside her where Roberto had been was empty. She kept her eyes on the road so she wouldn’t have to see it. She put the CD in the player and as she listened she thought about Louella’s belief in romance, and she let herself dream of Mexico.
