Love a Foot Above the Ground

by Anna Burke

  I hope you will forgive me for being a stubborn old woman who could not accept the truth in time to save our beloved dreamer. I promise that your Guillermo and I will look out for you, always. Hasta luego, Bernadette. I will tell you what my Guillermo always told me—hasta luego is not goodbye. Your Guillermo is not really gone. Keep looking for him and you will find him again, Querida Nieta. With all my love, Grandma Conseulo.

  Those words almost knocked me to the ground. I reeled, reading the words over and over, trying to discover their meaning. Did she really know what had happened to Guillermo? Connie admitted that she and her grandmother had come to have dark suspicions about the disappearance of her own husband. They did not know who in the family they could trust—other than Guillermo. They had no evidence of wrongdoing in the case of Connie’s missing husband, so there was no formal action to be taken.

  Perhaps, on that last visit, Grandma Consuelo had said something to Guillermo about their concerns. If so, she had said nothing to Connie about it, nor had Guillermo. If Grandma Consuelo had raised the prospect of such treachery, surely Guillermo would have insisted that they leave immediately. Not just Grandma Consuelo, but Connie and Izzy as well. I suppose, if she had said no, even then, it might be one of the reasons for her sad apology. I recalled how jubilant Guillermo had appeared, according to the townspeople who had seen Guillermo as he waved from that truck on his way to the Juarez airport. Could my Guillermo have learned to cover dark thoughts with a veil of good cheer?

  That night I could not sleep. I went over and over all that she had said in that letter. As difficult as it was to believe, I was sure that Grandma knew her son well enough to read what was in Agustìn’s eyes. I struggled to accept that Guillermo had met his end at the hands of his father and brother. I also tried to come to grips with the fact that I would probably never know what had happened to Guillermo after he reached the airport. I still wondered why he would have left when he was so close to returning to me. Had those two men forced him out with a hidden weapon of some kind? Or, had they lured him out of the airport terminal with a story about trouble for Roberto or another member of the family? Was he searching for Roberto, that night, when the passenger saw Guillermo looking around him as he stood with those two men? Did my Guillermo realize, too late, that he had fallen into a trap, and was his blood spilled fighting to get back to me?

  The most haunting part of that letter was the use of those words—the last words Guillermo had spoken to me before he left. All night, as I tossed and turned, soaked my pillow in angry and sorrowful tears, I heard those words over and over. Hasta luego is not goodbye. I felt Grandma Consuelo’s love and the sincerity in her belief that, even in death, her Guillermo had not left her. I vowed to do as she asked, and keep looking for my Guillermo.

  The next day I found him, again, just as Grandma Consuelo said I would.

  15 Finding guillermo again

  Bernadette held me tightly. Still, I sobbed. I was angry and nearly inconsolable.

  “It’s not right! How could someone do that to Guillermo? A member of his own family, and they got away with it too.” I jumped to the floor, folded my arms and stamped my feet. “That’s not fair!” I wailed.

  “Oh my, is this El Pinto I see, Jessica?” Bernadette asked, smiling sweetly at me, even though her eyes were shiny with tears.

  In that moment my penchant for justice was born. Years later, I would become a lawyer, determined that in the law I would find justice. I have since chased down a few bad guys—maleantes, as Bernadette calls them. The desire I felt that day to right the wrong done to Bernadette and Guillermo, has never let go. Even when I am way in over my head, playing the role of amateur sleuth, or otherwise tangling with bad guys, I cannot let it go. To this day I wonder if there isn’t some way to right that wrong—to find out, once and for all, what happened to Guillermo.

  “It’s supposed to end happily ever after,” I wailed. Bernadette, who had lost so much tried, once again, to console me!

  “It did, Jessica. Let me tell you how happily ever after really ends, okay? Grandma Consuelo was right. I did find Guillermo, again, and he has been with me ever since.” She dried my eyes.

  “I know this part is very difficult to understand. It’s where you need to listen most carefully with your heart.” I sniffled, wanting to understand, wanting to believe that Bernadette had found Guillermo, again.

  “Let’s see, if I can explain, okay? Hold out your hand, there, in front of the windows.” I did as I was told, curious about what this sweet woman had to say. “Can you see the shadow of your hand?”

  “Yes, of course, Bernadette.”

  “If you were very small, like I felt then, that shadow might cover you completely. When you fall into shadow, as I did, for a time, it’s hard to see anything but the darkness. Some, like that witch bird, Juanita, hide in darkness, away from goodness for the rest of their lives. The shadow sometimes shows us what the light cannot. It is not a thing apart, Jessica. It’s connected to the light. I could never have had a shadow that large in my life if Guillermo had not brought such a blinding, brilliant light into it. Darkness is the light blocked by whatever is in its path—like your hand between the sun and the ground. In my case, it was my anger and grief blocking the light. Do you see how the shadow goes away if you only remove your hand?”

  “Yes,” I said, still confused, but I listened with my heart, as she asked. There was such conviction in the woman, and in what she said, my fury and grief began to give way to hope.

  “The next day I went to Mass, Jessica. I was saying a rosary for Grandma Consuelo. It was then that I remembered what my mother had said about the shadow cast by the ruins of my grandparents’ house. I thought how wise my mother had been to realize what that shadow meant. In that shadow she had found remembrance, a connection that reached beyond their absence. Not just the light, but even the shadows cast by love are heaven sent. I was in a dark and lonely place for too long without realizing how great the light had been that cast that darkness, comprende?” I nodded my head because my heart told me to do it.

  “When I began to understand that, just a little, the light began to come back into my life. Guillermo was soon everywhere with me again—not just in my heart, where gladness returned, but in the breeze, in each of the many books that he had read, in the melody of that La Barca de Guayamas song he was singing when I first saw him. His laughter was in the pounding of the sea waves and the gulls crying, his smile in the sunset and sunrise,” Bernadette said, as she fixed me with a gaze that pulled me into the moment with her.

  “One day, right before Christmas, when my heart was more open again, I was walking to Mass and the bells in the tower rang out. A flurry of pigeons launched from the bell tower into the sky. Just like that first time Guillermo walked with me to Mass, in San Felipe.” She leaned back in her chair.

  “The light was so bright that day. I looked up, shielding my eyes from the light of the sun—too bright to gaze at it, as it beat down upon the towers of the church. Then, a pure white dove appeared between me and the sunlight. Its shadow fell on me as it hovered for a moment as it had done in San Felipe. I laughed and laughed and laughed at how silly I had been. How blessed my life had been to have shared so many moments, like that one, with Guillermo. In my mind I heard Guillermo’s sweet voice, as if he was standing right there, speaking to me.”

  Hasta luego is not goodbye, Querida Bernadette.

  “Love like that invites you, always, to live a foot above the ground, Jessica. So in my heart I reached up to embrace him. The bell of the church tolled and time stopped, as it had so often done when Guillermo and I were together. All those tender moments rushed over me, as he returned my embrace, in a gust of wind that pulled me higher, still. I laughed again at how foolish we were not to know that eternity was already with us. We had seen it in each other’s eyes! I had been blinded by the shadow of time, Jessica.”

  I’ll never quite understand it, but time stopped for me, too, as she spoke th
ose words. I heard a whoosh of wind and a ripple of laughter—some of it my own. In my heart, I felt uplifted, and glimpsed the possibility that time was a false thing, and love true. At nine, I did not have all of these words, of course. I was simply moved. I promise you, no heart or mind, could have remained unmoved in that instant when Bernadette shared her vision with me.

  “Life goes on, but love lasts forever, Querida. Hasta luego is not goodbye.” She reached out and touched my cheek as I stood before her.

  “It took longer to see how much good came from a love like ours. I am still amazed at what a man like my Guillermo can do, even long after he is dead. My sister, Theresa, who stayed with me in LA not only looked out for me during that dark time, but went with me to night school and got her diploma. After that she went to community college and achieved her dream to became a nurse. She didn’t know it, until later, but Guillermo had already introduced her to her future husband. My sister, Theresa, brought Rosa to California and she became a nurse, too. Rosa met her husband through Theresa’s husband, and so it goes, forward to new good things, and backward to Guillermo. Do you see?”

  “Yes,” I said. That part was much easier to grasp, then, as it is for me now. Like that old Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life, I believe that the presence or absence of one person makes a huge difference, even if it’s not always clear how. Call it paying it forward, or a special case of the butterfly effect, interconnectedness and even the smallest acts of love and kindness, have far-reaching consequences.

  “My brother Paolo went to Mexicali and finished his schooling. Then, he went back and helped Papa so Tomàs could go to school. Both Paolo and Tomàs became established in business. They moved my parents to Mexicali about ten years after I married Guillermo. It was a good thing, too, because fishing in the Sea of Cortez could not have supported my brothers as it had done for my father and grandfather. I believe Guillermo’s conversations with them—the questions he asked, helped them to think about their future in a different way. Not to mention the example he set by going to school. Because my younger sisters and brother had learned English they had many options open to them, too. Eventually, Antonia and Pedro came to Los Angeles to go to school. Antonia is a teacher in California, and Pedro, a lawyer in Mexico city.”

  “A teacher and a lawyer—those both sound interesting. I think I’d like to be a teacher or a lawyer or maybe, an architect, like Dad. But what about Connie and Izzy? What happened to them?”

  “Connie, who felt more certain than ever that her husband had not deserted her, contacted his family. They welcomed her, with open arms, having tried many times to reach out to her, without success. Connie was unaware that Agustìn and Roberto had kept them away from her and their grandchild. When she returned to Mexico, she and Izzy went to live with them, rather than returning to the ranch in Chihuahua. That is a good thing, too. Grandma Consuelo was right to be concerned about the future of the ranch. It no longer exists, and the rest of Guillermo’s family has scattered. I still hear from Connie every now and then. She remarried, has more children, and will soon be a grandmother.”

  “That is wonderful. What about you, Bernadette?” Did you finish school? How did you find me?”

  “Sì, Jessica, I finished school. The money given to us by Grandma Consuelo was intended to last for several years, until Guillermo earned his degree. That money was enough to support me and Theresa as we completed high school courses. After that, I took classes in cooking and hospitality services—thinking I would go to work in one of the hotels. Instead, while I earned my associate’s degree, I ended up working for one of the professors at UCLA. I watched her children, cooked, and organized the household for her. She was very busy trying for tenure, waiting to find out if she had a job there or not. They sure take a long time to make up their minds about you at a university. Maybe it’s better to be a lawyer or an architect, Jessica.” I took it under advisement.

  “She got tenure, but a few years later she decided to go to a different university on the East Coast. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I needed to stay in California so that I could see my parents and other members of my family. Then, the professor ran into your father at a community event. She learned that he was building this beautiful house in the desert, and that your mother had discovered she was pregnant. He was concerned because your mother’s pregnancy was not an easy one and she needed help. I was introduced to your father, soon after that, and ended up here with you and your family. Actually, I started first, at your house in Brentwood, while the house out here in the desert was being finished. I was very proud to be hired as a house manager, Jessica. Of course, more important than that has been all the joy it has brought me to be with you and your family.”

  After hearing that story, I corrected people, a couple times, when they referred to her as the housekeeper, but she saw no reason to do it. House manager or keeper, it made no difference to her as long as she was treated with respect. It was years later, when I had a home of my own to manage, that I learned all she actually did to keep the household going. As my parents’ marriage fell apart her duties included managing the six-figure budget allocated to run the house in Rancho Mirage. By then, she was earning six figures, making my Bernadette a pint-sized CEO.

  The thing that finally struck me, as we spoke that afternoon, was the realization that Guillermo had also brought so much good into my life. I know it’s selfish, but I still cannot imagine what my life might have been like without Bernadette. Could she have found her way to my side some other way if Guillermo had returned to her? I don’t know. That day I was just overcome with love and gratitude for the gift I had been given.

  “Aw, Bernadette,” I said. “I guess I have to thank Guillermo for that, too. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I leaned in to wrap my arms around her, a tangible, huggable, lesson in the good that can come from even the most despicable acts.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the enormous windows of the morning room where we sat. I looked up to see the white underbelly of a dove, its wings flapping against the window. It was, most likely, one of the many mourning doves that roosted in the Palo Verde trees nearby. To me, in that moment, it was close enough to an everyday miracle. I was beside myself with delight!

  “It’s a dove! I saw a dove ! It’s a visitation, Bernadette. Yippee!” I jumped up and down, and up and down—at least a foot above the ground.

  THANK YOU!

  I hope you enjoyed reading Love, A Foot Above the Ground! I would be grateful for your feedback about the book. Leave me a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Stop by my website at http://www.desertcitiesmystery signup for my blog and get news about upcoming books, events and Bernadette’s recipes. Or visit me on Facebook and like my author pageat https://www.facebook.com/annacelesteburke

  Here’s to love a foot above the ground and to real happily ever afters!

  THERE’S MORE BERNADETTE AND JESSICA. Both are characters in the Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery Series. Fast forward two more decades—Jessica is in her mid-30s and Bernadette in her 60s. What happens next surprises them both—and the surprises keep coming!

  Books 1 & 2 in the series are available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback. Find A DEAD HUSBAND at http://smarturl.it/adeadhus and A DEAD SISTER at http://smarturl.it/adeadsis A DEAD SISTER OUT SOON!

  READ AN EXCERPT FROM A DEAD HUSBAND NOW!

  A DEAD HUSBAND

  CHAPTER 1

  Jessica bolted upright in bed. Not a good thing to do. The light of day pierced like a knife. Her world spun. Her head throbbed, and a wave of nausea flowed through her. The force of her body’s revolt knocked her back onto the pillow. She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the light, and waited for the spinning sensation to subside. From somewhere in the depths of stupor she heard again the sound that had startled her awake: a loud snort. She struggled to make sense of the fear and confusion that set in while holding very still to avoid another assault to her senses. Where the hell was sh
e? Risking a peek, she glimpsed up and immediately recognized the vaulted ceiling and dramatic angles of the room in which she had grown up.

  For a moment she was comforted by the fact that she was, at least, in her own bed. The bed was plush and cradled her body, lulling her back toward oblivion. Then it all came rushing in on her, crushing her chest with an anvil of rage and regret.

  “My own bed alright,” she thought. In her mother’s house that is, not her adult, married-woman bed which was now occupied by her feckless, soon-to-be ex-husband, and the blond. Jessica’s breathing quickened and her heart started to flutter, then began to palpitate wildly. Her heart beat out a vicious dirge to match the pounding in her head.

  “Oh no,” she muttered, as she spiraled toward a full blown panic attack. She gingerly rolled over and scooted toward the edge of the bed, hoping to dig out the paper bag she kept in the bedside table. She needed to breathe. To regain control of her mind and body that had betrayed her so often lately.

  As Jessica reached into the drawer, she heard it again. A snorting sound, only this time it was much louder. Without thinking she jumped out of bed and stumbled, almost head first, into a luxuriously upholstered club chair in the tasteful neutral tones of the Kreiss furnishings her mother adored. The room spun again as Jessica’s knees hit the floor. Her upper body landed on something hard in the chair. She pulled out an empty bottle, Cristal champagne, vintage 2004.

  “A decent year, at least,” she thought.

  A party, there had been a party. She set the bottle on the floor and pulled herself up into the comfort of the bedside chair. Holding her head in both hands she scanned the floor around her feet and spotted two more empty Cristal bottles. That helped explain her current state. Discarded take-out food containers and candy bar wrappers were strewn about, as were articles of clothing.