Emerald Street

by Felicia Rogers

  Raylyn ordered, and the waiter brought her a drink. She sipped and studied the band.

  “Can I join you?”

  She jumped, surprised to hear Jack’s voice. Swallowing, she held out her hand. “Please.”

  He took a seat. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I don’t have any food.” Way to go, just blurt out something stupid.

  He smiled and played with a folded napkin. “Neither do I. I’ve been eating in some of the restaurants here on the strip. Believe it or not, they have practically anything you might want.”

  “I noticed that.”

  “Did you order already?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “So did I. I asked them to bring it here. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  She shook her head. They sat quietly, and she winked and whispered, “Are you going to show me some more of your fancy dance moves?”

  He laughed under his breath. “I’m not sure. Would you like me to?”

  She smiled. “Only if you’re going to move your hips again.”

  He laughed heartily and stood to his feet. She reached for his arm to pull him back down, but he’d already confiscated a rose and placed it in his mouth. The guests clapped as he danced around the room. Did anyone notice the slight hop to his step? The plastic prosthesis peeked out from under the hem of his pants. She looked away and forced herself to watch his happy face. Hands clasped atop the table, she tapped her feet to the music.

  A smile widened across her face as Jack drew close and moved his arms like a wave in her direction. She shook her head. No way was he getting her to dance. He bent at the waist, his nose almost touching hers.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Chin lowered to her chest, she tried to avoid his intense stare. The crowd cheered as he enacted fancy footwork before her table in an attempt to get her attention. Heat flushed her cheeks at the thought of his hands guiding her.

  He snatched her hand and drew her to her feet. Warmth encased her entire body as he held one of her hands high above their heads and laid the other on her waist. He guided the movement of her hips, and her heart raced. Tingles raced along her spine, and she fought her rising attraction.

  Jack held her close and nodded his head for her to take the rose from his teeth. Awkwardly, she complied, and he twirled her out. Her heart hammered so loud in her chest, she couldn’t hear. He moved his hands to her waist. Others in the crowd stood and followed suit. Soon there was a line rounding the restaurant’s interior. The song ended, and they fell into their seats, laughing.

  “You have a beautiful smile, mi tesoro.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. No one had ever called her their treasure. She smoothed a wayward hair behind her ear and prayed for a distraction. Still, her flesh tingled from his touch, and she ached to regain his nearness.

  The food arrived, and for a moment, they consumed their dishes.

  “You said you have family in Sapphire Shoals,” said Jack in between bites.

  “Yes.” She drew the word out not sure where his statement was headed.

  “I’ve been there.”

  “You have?” She fought her reaction. She didn’t want him to know she suspected that was the case.

  “Yes. I went to last year’s gem festival.”

  She gulped.

  “I saw someone looking at a sapphire necklace that I thought I recognized. Seeing that person is what inspired me to enter the mission field.”

  “It did?”

  “Oddly enough, knowin’ I might never see the one person I wanted to spend my life with caused me to run from everyone I knew and pursue a different goal.”

  She choked on her water. Jack scooted his chair closer and patted her back until she regained her breath.

  “Is the food too spicy?” he asked, a smile tilting his lips.

  “No.” Why did he keep questioning her? Why couldn’t he let it go? Did he mean the things he said?

  He leaned in his chair and drew out his wallet, throwing a couple of bills on the table. “I guess I better run. I want to pick up a few things from the market before I head back to the apartment. Will you be okay getting home?”

  She nodded. He left her sitting there, mulling over his actions and words. Her legs trembled from their dancing. Her heart pained from his departure.

  Biting her lip, she studied the tabletop. The stained linen cloth drew her attention for only a moment. So it had been him at the festival. If she’d stayed put until he'd caught up with her, what might have happened? She guessed she would never know.

  ****

  Jack exited the restaurant and watched the crowded streets. In the afternoon hours, the people came out in droves to witness the parts of Holy Week they might have missed during the day.

  Jack glanced over his shoulder into the window of the restaurant. Raylyn sat there with her chin cradled in her palm. Saying what he had about the gem festival and the woman of his dreams might have been a low blow, but it was true. When would she come clean about why she’d left him behind?

  He remembered the feel of her in his arms as they'd danced around the restaurant, and a lump formed in his throat. How much longer could he play her game? His feelings hovered on the surface, and hiding them took immense effort. A smile tinged his lips. The dance had revealed one thing. Her eyes had darkened as he'd drawn her close. The physical attraction was there; he just needed to help her realize it without pushing her away.

  With a swagger to his step, he returned to his apartment. An envelope fluttered in the breeze, and he plucked it from the door casing. Leaning against the wall outside his apartment, he studied the return address. A frown drew his brows together. He opened the letter and drew out the lone sheet of paper.

  Son,

  I’m so glad to have finally found you. Your friend, Rory Chance, told me you’d joined a missionary team in Chiapas, Mexico, and can I say I’ve never been more proud?

  I fear over the years I’ve done you a grave disservice. After your mother passed, my goal was to help you succeed, but in the process of doing that, I pushed you away. I never meant to hurt you or to hurt our relationship.

  Would you call me? Could we open the lines of communication?

  Your loving father, Jeb

  Jack folded the paper and held it to his chest. His heart beat rapidly, and he swiped away tears that rolled along his cheeks. His father had reached out to communicate to him after all this time. Jack spun on his heel and headed straight for Alfonzo’s house; he needed to find a phone.

  He knocked on the side door and tapped his foot impatiently. Manuel opened it. Without explanation, Jack blurted, “May I use your phone?”

  Manuel blinked but stepped aside and waved him in.

  Jack entered the vast house.

  “Does your phone not work, señor Williams?”

  He shook his head.

  “I shall have it repaired.”

  “Gracias.”

  Cool air wafted in from the open windows as he entered an office that overshadowed a rose garden.

  Manuel pointed to the phone and left him alone. Numbers dialed, his heart hammered against his ribs with anticipation. He hadn’t talked to his father in fourteen years. What would he say?

  The ringing ended, and a voice answered, “Hello?”

  ****

  Saturday morning came, and Raylyn rose and dressed. Wearing another long flowing skirt and a light pink silk top with a white shawl, she was ready to hit the city center.

  Sweat covered her palms, and she wiped them on a clean towel. All night she’d relived the dance in the restaurant. The attraction she'd felt for Jack had grown, and she worried he would see it in her face.

  The doorknob rattled, and Raylyn straightened her shirt, wiped her hands one more time, plastered a smile on her face, and strolled to the door. She drew it back with a jerky motion and bit the inside of her cheek.

  A charming smile covered Jack’s face as he held out his arm. “Are we rea
dy?”

  “Yes.” Her tone came out breathless, and she cleared her throat.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “No,” she blurted then rushed to correct herself. “I mean, I slept fine.”

  “Oh.”

  The conversation halted as they reached the city center and a procession rolled by. The participants exchanged unintelligible words, and Raylyn kept her questions to herself.

  As they passed, Jack said, “Maybe one day we can rent a car and explore. I hear there are ruins as well as fascinating outdoor sights like lakes, waterfalls, and canyons within a day’s drive. That is, if you’re interested.”

  “I’d like that.” She studied the ground, watching his fake foot as it struck the pavement. Was Jack able to do all the things he suggested? Shouldn’t he slow down? Maybe not push himself too hard?

  He interrupted her musings. “The real festivities won’t happen until later, so I thought maybe we could tour some of the museums and historical churches. What do you think?”

  The things he suggested seemed low-speed, and she readily agreed. “Let’s do it.”

  First they toured the government buildings, which resided on the west side of the main square. A tour guide explained about the damage sustained during a Zapatista uprising in 1994. Jack placed his arm about her shoulder and drew her close as the crowd muttered hateful words under their breath.

  Raylyn remembered an article she’d read. It explained that the Zapatista Army of National Liberation was a group of revolutionary leftist in Chiapas, Mexico. Of late, they had abandoned their weapons and sought assistance for indigenous rights to their land through means of social support.

  After the tour of the government buildings, they crossed the street to tour churches. First they visited the Cathedral de San Cristóbal. The church had been built in honor of the town’s patron saint, St. Christopher. It sat high on a hill overlooking the city and housed famous art pieces.

  By the time they finished the tours, Raylyn was bushed. They chose to head back to the city center and found a comfortable spot to wait for the evening’s events.

  Local firemen pushed people to a safe distance. Figures representing Judas and government officials, who were set to burn, lined the streets. A volley of fireworks lit the sky. Jack pulled her to his side, and she snuggled next to him for comfort and warmth.

  Spanish guitar music filled the background, and people dressed in costumes lined the streets. Tomorrow the festival would end with Judas’ burning, and since Holy Week and the Spring and Peace Fair ran concurrently, after the burning a queen would be crowned, and bullfights would follow.

  Raylyn didn’t know if she was up for the display. After a grueling week at the clinic then walking through the streets, she hurt from head to toe. Fireworks soared into the sky and lit Jack’s serene expression. He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers.

  In the spirit of the moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. When he drew back, his sapphire-blue eyes glowed in the moonlight, and her heart flipped in her chest.

  She would never be the same.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He would never be the same.

  Jack had known from the moment he'd awakened from his coma, that if he ever kissed Raylyn, his heart and soul would belong entirely to her, and he had been right. Now that they had shared the simple moment, he never wanted to go back.

  He placed a stray hair behind her ear and studied her emerald-green eyes. Words failed him. He needed to ask about her disappearance. He had to know what precipitated it. Had he done something to anger her? Had a tragedy struck her own life? What had kept her away?

  Fear clenched his stomach. What if asking the question broke the spell?

  Again, he bent forward. The second kiss was slow and lingering. The Mexican guitar music played softly in the background as he placed his hand behind her neck and deepened the kiss until his toes curled.

  Breathing heavy, he pulled back. At that moment, he didn’t care if he ever knew why she’d left. The only thing that mattered was she was here now.

  Jack clasped her hands in his and caressed her long nimble fingers. A knot formed in his throat, and he couldn’t speak. How could all his dreams be coming true? His father had contacted him after all these years, and now here he was with the woman he loved.

  “The fireworks are almost over,” she whispered.

  He gazed directly into her eyes. “Maybe they are, maybe they’re not.”

  She lifted the corner of her lips and moved strands of hair away from her glasses. A faint red hue dotted her cheeks, and hope soared in his breast. She cleared her throat. “Do you think we should wait until the crowd disperses or leave early?”

  Concern mounting, he realized their vulnerability. “We’ll wait and travel with the crowd.”

  She nodded and sucked her lip between her teeth. Then without warning, she twisted and laid her head against his chest. Letting a tree trunk support him, he wrapped his arms around her middle and mashed his nose against her hair, inhaling her feminine scent of lavender and vanilla.

  Indeed, his life would never be the same.

  ****

  They followed the crowd until they reached the apartment complex. Raylyn was glad for the accompaniment. Rowdy groups had skirted the fringes of the city center, stirring up trouble throughout the day. While she believed Jack would die to protect her, she wasn’t ready for it to come to that.

  They approached her door, holding hands. She could sense he had a question he wanted to ask. It must be about why she’d never contacted him. She should tell him the truth. She'd thought he was in love with someone else. Then when he told her she was wrong, it would all be over, and they could move on. But what if she wasn’t wrong? What if he did love another? What if he had come to San Cristóbal to forget her? What if she was just a diversion to help him forget his true love?

  Raylyn released his hand on the pretense of digging in her purse for her house key. The door open, she yawned. Maybe he would take the hint and not press for answers.

  Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed his boot against the ground. “I guess I should let you get some rest.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  He stared at her, and her heart felt like it flipped. Tiny butterflies danced in her stomach as he lifted her chin until she gazed into his eyes. She anticipated the kiss with bated breath. When his lips didn’t lower toward hers, she almost stomped her foot. His hand moved from her chin, and he scraped his knuckles across her cheek.

  “Sweet dreams, mi tesoro.”

  She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his feet striking the patio stones as he retreated.

  Door closed, she leaned her head against the cool wood. The phone rang, and she jumped. She answered. “Hello?”

  “Raylyn. How are you doing?” asked the calm loud voice of Uncle Roland.

  “Good.” She removed the receiver and rubbed her throbbing ear. She needed to explain that just because she was far away didn’t mean she couldn’t hear him clearly.

  “I heard about some protests in your area. You haven’t been involved, have you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I didn’t think so.” There was a brief pause, then he asked, “Are you okay?”

  The silence on the line was deafening, and Raylyn rushed to answer. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Glad to hear it. That Zapatista movement down there is something else. Why, being an evangelical Christian doesn’t seem safe.”

  Raylyn listened to Roland’s concerns and attempted to assuage his fears. By the time he hung up, she trembled with nerves.

  After a hot shower, she lay down. Dreams of insurrection and violent political disputes disrupted her sleep. Raylyn rose early, brewed a pot of coffee, and placed it on a table in the courtyard.

  She opened the morning paper. The front page displayed pictures of rebels raising their fists toward Chiapas’ government buildings. A list of v
iolent criminal acts that had occurred against the evangelical Christians just the night before covered page two.

  Raylyn folded the paper and set it on the dew-laden table. The black ink ran together, and the pages disintegrated. If only the conflict between the peoples in Chiapas could be dealt with so easily.

  Rays of sunlight rose over the roof of the apartment building and struck the tabletop. The bright light reflected in Raylyn’s eyes, and she rose to go inside.

  “Don’t leave on my account.” Alfonzo stepped from the shadows.

  “I-I wasn’t leaving because of you. The sun—”

  “I was kidding. Will you be ready for service soon?”

  Raylyn hadn’t noted the time when she'd come out. Glancing at her nightly attire, she groaned inwardly and held up a finger to indicate she would only be a moment.

  She rushed inside, changed, slipped her feet into a pair of new leather sandals, and studied her reflection in the mirror. The plain pale pink dress looked appropriate for the Easter season. Purse hoisted on her shoulder, she stepped outside. Already several others waited with Alfonzo: Manuel and the middle-aged lady that he’d become acquainted with because of Raylyn’s meddling, and a few other people who lived nearby.

  “Will Jack be joining us?” he asked.

  Raylyn glanced upward. No light drifted from the apartment windows. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll run up and check.” Alfonzo took a step toward the stairs right as Jack appeared.

  “I’m here.”

  “Ah, good. I will lead.” Alfonzo escorted them to the local evangelical church. The preaching was good, and the fellowship kept her going for days. Attending the services was the highlight of her week.

  Those in the group fell in line. Whispered words traveled amongst them as they shuffled along the sidewalk toward their location.

  “Did you enjoy the fireworks?” asked Alfonzo as he took a spot beside her.

  “Yes, very much. And you?” Raylyn forced herself not to turn around. Had Jack heard her answer?