Bradley uncrossed his arms, then crossed them behind his lower back and leaned against the lifeguard tower again. “So you killed this guy?”
Rigo waved his hands in front of him. “No, no. I was jealous. But not like that. I pulled over a car for a routine traffic stop, but as I questioned the driver, it didn’t feel right. Felipe had gotten a call that Gloria had been taken to the hospital. But when I called him on the radio, he turned around and came back to help me. Gloria hadn’t told him how serious her condition was, so she wouldn’t scare him. He thought he had time to turn around.”
He turned his head away. He’d kept this story inside for so long. Letting the words out took a flood of emotions with them. “My gut was right about the kids in the car. They were a group of small-time drug dealers and they thought they’d make a name for themselves. When Felipe got there, a guy popped out of the trunk with a gun. Neither of us saw it coming. Gloria was at the hospital upstairs, alone in L&D, when they rushed Felipe down to the ER. Their baby was stillborn. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to the baby, but Felipe should have been with her. She lost everything because of me.”
Bradley’s brow furrowed with the weight of Rigo’s words.
“So that’s the past. You said you were thinking about the future. She’s obviously talking to you. She was with you at the command center. I saw you two leave together. So something’s changed.”
Rigo nodded and recapped the past week for his friend.
“Look, Rigo, I haven’t walked through the door of a church in a long time for a lot of reasons. But I grew up with a grandmother who went every Sunday, every Wednesday, and a few other times in between. And she used to always love to talk about how God would close doors and open windows.”
“My tía Inez still says that all the time,” Rigo said.
Bradley shrugged mildly. “Maybe this is your window. The past is past. The door is closed. You know your actions have hurt her, but you came back to make amends. Maybe when the hurricane blew out half the windows in town, it opened one for you, too.”
Rigo let Bradley’s words soak in like rain. “Maybe so. I just wish I knew what to do with my window.”
“Do the right thing.”
“Sure, Brad. That sounds way better than breaking her heart again.” Rigo could hear the sarcasm on each syllable and he knew Bradley could, too.
Brad cuffed Rigo on the shoulder. “I just mean do all those things you meant to do. In a perfect world where you’d never broken her heart, what would you do?”
During all those nights in rehab when he’d lain in that stiff bed after curfew and thought about what he’d done to get to that point, Rigo rewrote history in his head over and over and over. He knew where he’d gone wrong. And it wasn’t fair to blame the bottle or Mexico. They were symptoms of the problem.
He, Rodrigo Vasquez, was the problem.
He’d taken Gloria for granted. He’d accepted her and her teenage love for him as ordinary.
He’d been wrong. Her steadfast, loyal heart was extraordinary. And he should have treasured it.
“I’d make her feel special.”
“So, what are you waiting for?”
Rigo pointed at the chaos around them. He knew what he was up against. “Gloria’s lost her home and her job. I’m pretty sure she’s been grateful for my help the last few days, but she’s like everyone else—focused on one thing and one thing only right now. Not happily-ever-after. Rebuilding. I mean, Brad, are you crazy?”
“No. Are you?”
“What?”
“You’re telling me you may have a second chance with the woman you’ve loved since you were a teenager. You’re telling me that you believe a window may have cracked open for you. But you’re also making excuses and telling me that some hurricane debris is in your way.” Bradley locked his gaze on Rigo with a steel-like seriousness.
His friend’s words flew straight to his heart with the piercing accuracy of a sniper’s bullet.
In the time he’d been back in Port Provident, Rigo had followed his plan to stay out of Gloria’s way and make amends around town where he needed to. He’d been content.
Then his phone rang and a hurricane named Hope blew his past straight back into his present.
He used to feel so guilty about still having feelings for Gloria. He’d partner up with Felipe, day after day, feeling paralyzed by the ever-present fact that he’d never gotten over the woman who’d gone on to marry his friend. And then when his call for backup led to Felipe’s death, the dark clouds crushed him stronger than any hurricane’s destructive slap of wind.
Through rehab and a return to La Iglesia, he’d started to shed that guilt, like a chameleon’s shedding skin.
He didn’t want to be a chameleon, ever changing. He wanted to be a rock.
And more than anything, he wanted to be that rock for Gloria.
“You’re right, Brad.”
“So, what are you gonna do about it?”
Rigo thought for a moment. “Man, I don’t know. I made her a makeshift restaurant at Inez’s house last night so she’d have a fresh hot meal. But there just aren’t many options out there right now. My relationship with Gloria isn’t the only thing that’s a mess.”
“Your options are limited. How about the thank-you dinner for first responders that Porter’s Seafood is hosting tonight?”
Now that the basic services had returned, the oldest family-owned restaurant in town had quickly put together plans to celebrate the efforts of Port Provident’s first responders during the past week. They promised it would be simple, but they also promised it would be a time where the men and women who helped save the island could relax and enjoy a meal prepared with love and gratitude. Almost everyone Rigo knew in the police, fire and paramedic community would be there at least for a while.
And therein seemed to be the problem.
“No, man. I can’t do that.” His shoulders tensed up at the thought.
“I don’t get it. You just told me you want to make her feel special. Take her out on a date that’s not on your aunt’s porch.” Bradley’s stare fell on Rigo so hard it landed like a punch.
He wanted to. He wanted to take the stress of the past few days—of the past few years—away from her. Wasn’t that the whole point of the catch of the day on Inez’s rooftop porch last night?
“There are limits to what I can do.”
Brad’s unwavering expression told Rigo he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Really, Bradley. Half this town knows I broke her heart after high school and the other half knows I was there the night her husband died. I’ve got an unspoken peace with a lot of the guys on the force. I turned my life around. They can support that. But how much support do you think I’m going to get when I show up with my dead patrol partner’s widow? And worse, what are they going to say to her? I’m not going to let them hurt her any more than she’s been hurt, Brad.”
Bradley took one measured step forward and pointed at Rigo.
“You have to stand up to your past and knock it down. Treat her in such a way that they can’t second-guess you now. Why are you letting excuses get in your way? Seems like you stood behind a big pile of excuses on a beach in Mexico and it didn’t get you anywhere. Seems like maybe you think you see that window, but you’ve decided it’s too small for you to climb through.” Bradley took aim and fired with his words. “Seems like you’re still not the man she needs you to be.”
One. Two. Three seconds passed before Rigo caught his breath. Everything within him felt slow and deliberate.
Especially the realization that Bradley was right.
“I’ll ask her to come tonight. But what if she says no?”
“Then you’ve gotta find a way to keep that window open. She’s worth it, right?”
Rigo wished he’d known then what he knew now. If he’d known what he’d lose, he’d have realized she was worth the fight—any fight it took—and he wouldn’t have listened to all those lies he told himself in Mexico all those years ago.
Rigo knew Bradley was right. Now that he’d had Gloria back in his life, even for just a few days, he knew he couldn’t let her go again.
“You mentioned your sister earlier. Does she still work at that print shop up in Houston?”
A wide stripe of sunlight cracked over the small cloud that had been playing peekaboo earlier. Bradley pulled his sunglasses from where they’d been folded over the neckline of his T-shirt.
“Yeah, she and my brother-in-law own it. From what I’ve heard from the control center, the hurricane really didn’t do much damage over there in Sugar Land. Just a lot of rain and downed tree limbs.”
Rigo smiled. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. Can you help me with something else? It’s time to be the man she needs me to be.”
* * *
Gloria felt something before she even heard the sound of tires in the parking lot at Huarache’s. An awareness, a flicker of excitement, came over her and made her look up from the bag she was stuffing with wet table linens to take to the ever-growing pile of junk outside.
They’d come home.
Her whole family—the people she loved more than anyone on earth—were back on the island. Gloria couldn’t have kept her feet from running toward them if she’d wanted to.
“Gracie!” Gloria wrapped her sister tightly in her arms as soon as she was close enough to touch her. They’d been apart only a matter of days, but something about being separated by a natural disaster—with no phones or open roads for a time—made the hours seem longer and more burdensome.
She could feel small streaks of wetness on her sister’s cheeks. Gracie had clearly felt the same weight of separation. “Glo. Hermanita, we’ve all been so worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Rigo made sure we were all right.”
“Vasquez?” Her father cleared his throat and Gloria thought for a split second he was going to spit on the ground in front of him. “Well, it’s hard to run away when the roads are closed.”
The words from her usually mild-mannered papí took her aback. She knew he didn’t like what Rigo had done after high school. What she hadn’t known until now was that he still carried it around with him.
Just like she’d carried it around with her for all these years. Funny how events could profoundly affect even someone who wasn’t directly involved.
“I think he’s changed.” Gloria remembered the conversation they’d had in Mateo’s room, where he’d opened up about his mistakes, his journey to rehab and his desire to prove to Gloria he wasn’t the same person he had been.
“Gloriana. Don’t be naive.” Juanita Garcia stretched out her oldest daughter’s name with about ten more syllables than it usually had, each very clearly enunciated.
Gloria couldn’t think of how to reply. Before she put something past her tongue, Papí headed for the doors of Huarache’s. “Vamonos.”
Let’s go. Indeed. Gloria would be glad to explain the mess from Hurricane Hope to her family instead of explaining the time she’d been spending with Rigo Vasquez.
Mamí handed baby Gabi to Gracie, then caught Papí’s hand as they walked through the door. Gloria lingered a few steps behind. She knew the heartbreak they were about to encounter and wasn’t sure she could bear to see the emotions in their eyes.
“You know they just care about you, right? They only want what’s best for you.” Gracie’s husband, Jake Peoples, stayed back with Gloria.
Gloria turned her head slightly and looked at Jake, while still monitoring her family’s progress out of the corner of her eye. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you and Rigo Vasquez.” Jake nodded in the direction of his wife and in-laws.
Gloria gave a short, acknowledging nod of her own. “I just wish they’d understand it’s between me and Rigo. Not them.”
“Oh, you mean like when I took Gracie to the beach shortly after meeting her, and you interrogated us both?” Jake’s look told Gloria he remembered every single disapproving conversation she’d given Gracie at that time. “I’m pretty sure that whatever he did to you in the past hurt them for you as much as it actually hurt you. Who picked up the pieces after he left?”
“Gracie. And Mamí. And Papí.” Gloria lowered her voice. “They’ve always been there for me. Every single time. It’s just what we do. We look out for each other. Somos familia.”
We are family.
And they always would be.
“I’ve never seen another family like y’all. My own family wasn’t like that. My mother couldn’t be bothered to care one bit about her children and my father—well, the man who raised me—couldn’t see past his own anger and jealousy to do anything but scheme and hate. Your family is special, Gloria. Don’t let yourself get mad because they care. Their biggest crime is maybe caring too much. But you wouldn’t know a thing about that, would you?”
His slow smile showed the sarcasm in his words. No, she wouldn’t know a thing about that. Except that, according to Rigo, it was her specialty. Especially when it came to her family.
Gloria shook her head. “I was wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“You. I misjudged you. I’m sorry. And I’m glad Gracie didn’t listen to me...too much. I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law.” She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice but was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have to listen too closely to hear it. She’d been so skeptical of the early days of Gracie and Jake’s relationship, when Jake had been the interim CEO of his family’s development company, and he’d been determined to evict Gracie’s English-as-a-second-language school, La Escuela por las Lenguas, from the building she leased from the Peoples Property Group.
“I’m glad she didn’t listen too closely, either.” Jake leaned over and gave Gloria a quick but reassuring hug. “And I’m glad you’re my sister-in-law. I remember Rigo. I didn’t know him well, but we surfed together down by the Memorial Hotel quite a few times back in school. I don’t know what happened between the two of you—and I don’t speak Spanish well enough to keep up with all the names your sister just called him under her breath as your mother handed her the baby—but I do know that things are not always what they seem. A guy who finds out a family secret in a boardroom won’t ever forget that lesson. I hope you’ll remember that, too, Gloria. They love you, but if you think he’s changed, sometimes you’ve got to just go with your gut.”
“Or God.” The words slipped out before Gloria even had a chance to question them. As she said them, she felt confirmation and a sense of peace.
“Exactly. I know now there was a reason why I decided to serve eviction papers myself to one Graciela Garcia de Piedra. I’d never served eviction papers before, and I’ve never served them since. Maybe it’s the same reason you wound up getting help during a hurricane from a very unlikely source.”
Jake smiled at Gracie, a relaxed, knowing smile that stood out in the middle of the chaos of the hurricane-tossed debris that still covered Gulfview Boulevard in every direction they could see—and the conflicting feelings that passed through her heart.
He could be right. There could be a reason she’d made that phone call a week ago. But her bruised heart just couldn’t afford for her to be naive. She couldn’t make a mistake with her trust again.
Gloria plucked at her brother-in-law’s sleeve as they walked up the sidewalk to the front door of the restaurant.
“Jake?”
He stopped and turned toward her. “Yes?”
Gloria hesitated. But then realized her pause only underscored what she thought of herself and why she had to ask Jake the question on her mind.
“You’ve known me for a little while now. Do you think I’m a strong person? Or is it all an act?”
She swallowed strongly, trying to wash away the slightly metallic taste the words had left in her mouth. She really didn’t know, and she feared the answer.
“Glo, no one could carry the burden of losing a husband and a child without having shoulders stronger than a linebacker. It’s not a question of your strength. That one’s not up for debate. It’s a question of whether you can set the burdens of the past down.”
Jake left her alone to ponder that question. Gloria looked blankly out at the waves rolling in on the other side of Gulfview Boulevard’s narrow, raised black slice of pavement that hugged the curve of the coastline.
A yellow-and-red truck pulled into the parking lot and parked slightly askew, next to the larger-than-life pile of stuffed trash bags Gloria had already thrown out of the restaurant.
“I drove by your house, but you weren’t there, so I figured I’d find you here.”
Rigo jumped out of the truck. His black hair stuck together at the roots with a damp sheen of leftover sweat. She looked at his shirt, slightly damp with the same signs of physical exertion, then down to his shoes, scuffed with sand and mud. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he’d just stepped off the beach as a teenager. It surprised her to know that just looking at him caused the same feeling of excitement and awareness that it had so many years ago—like lightning crackling over the waves of the gulf during a thunderstorm.
“You’ve been working?” She tried to ignore the tickle of awareness that insisted on teasing her in spite of her conflicted stream of thoughts.
“Yeah. I’ve been at the beach patrol storage yard all morning, inspecting damage to our equipment. I’ve got a break right now, then I’ll be patrolling Gulfview until I get off tonight.”
“Okay. So you’ll be back to Inez’s house late?”
Second Chance Sweethearts (Love Inspired) Page 14
