Fiona. He’d texted her a hello this morning and had gotten no response. But she was probably busy with her surprise guest.
How had it happened that they’d kissed only two times, and they’d been caught on both occasions? Once by the kids, and once by her mother, and he didn’t know which was worse. He hoped Fiona’s mom hadn’t been too hard on her.
After a few minutes of daydreaming about yesterday, he decided to take his laptop outside. Maybe he could concentrate better there, push aside the warm feeling that grew in him when he thought of spending yesterday with her, holding her hand, sharing stories that drew them ever closer as they got to know each other.
He’d barely settled himself on the front porch with his laptop and a glass of iced tea when he heard several of the kids come around the side of the house.
“Are you guys Mexicans?” Ryan was asking.
“Kind of,” Diego said. “We’re Americans, but our grandparents moved here from Mexico, so that’s why we have darker skin and hair.”
“Our grandma says you people don’t take care of your things, but we told her you do,” Maya said. “Hey, are you guys poor?”
Heat rose in Eduardo’s neck, but he forced himself to stay seated and let Diego handle it.
“No!” Diego said, and then there were murmurs Eduardo couldn’t make out. “I don’t want to play with your building set, anyway,” Diego said sharply. “I don’t like it anymore.”
More murmurs, then Diego spoke again. “He could buy it for me if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to.”
From the opposite direction, Sofia came up onto the porch and sat by Eduardo. “Lauren got a phone,” she said.
“Really?” That surprised him. He wouldn’t have pegged Fiona as a person who’d buy her ten-year-old a cell phone, but maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought.
“I wish I could have one,” Sofia said, “but it’s okay, Dad. I know you don’t have enough money for it.”
He blew out a breath. His happy mood was rapidly disappearing.
A little later, after Sofia had taken off, Poppy came to the bottom of the porch steps and stood looking at him. That was surprising. She wasn’t usually off on her own apart from the others.
And although she’d become more comfortable with him, he didn’t want to scare her, so he stayed in his seat. “Hey, Poppy,” he said, keeping his voice casual.
Slowly, she came to the top of the stairs and again stood still, looking at him. It was a little creepy.
“Anything wrong, honey?” he asked her. “Where’s your mom?”
“It’s okay if she marries you,” Poppy said, taking a step closer, but holding on to the porch railing.
He couldn’t help smiling. “We’re not planning on that,” he said, and then something made him add, “right now, anyway.”
“If you marry Mommy, you won’t have to go away,” she explained seriously.
“We don’t have to go away, sweetheart.”
“Yes, you do, to Mex-i-co,” she said in a singsong voice and moved closer until she was right by his side. “Lauren and Ryan ’splained it to me. But if you marry Mommy, you and Sofia and Diego can stay.” She studied him. “You can be my daddy.”
The acceptance in that sweet smile warmed his heart, but the implications of what she’d said, in all innocence, annoyed him thoroughly. Who had been telling Poppy that Eduardo and his family were illegal immigrants?
“Thank you, Poppy,” he said. “Now, you’d better run home.”
As she went down the steps, Diego came running up, his face stormy.
“Whoa, son, what’s wrong?”
“Leave me alone!” Diego hurried into the house.
Eduardo tried to focus on his work, to give Diego some space, but he’d never been very good at that, especially when one of his kids was obviously hurting. And the things Poppy had said kept playing in his mind. Poor...you people...can’t afford...not Americans...
Sofia came up the steps again, looking glum.
“Hey, Sof, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on.” He patted the chair beside him. “Tell me.”
She sat down and shrugged. “Now that Lauren has a phone, she’s texting with all these other girls in our grade. She doesn’t want to just, you know, hang out.”
“That’s a problem with cell phones.” And it was one reason why he didn’t think children should have them.
“I just wish we weren’t poor,” Sofia burst out. She stood and flounced into the house.
This had gone too far. Eduardo followed her, shaking his head, and called for Diego to come downstairs. Once they were both sitting on the couch, he nudged his way between them and put an arm around each.
“I love you both,” he said, feeling his way, “and I can’t stand it when other people say things to hurt you.”
“We know, Dad.” Diego tried to shift away.
“It sounds like someone has been talking about us being Mexican.”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “Duh, Dad. I mean, it’s obvious from how we look.”
Eduardo frowned. Those didn’t sound like words Sofia would have come up with on her own. But probing for details wasn’t the answer. “I’m proud of my Mexican heritage, and so was your mom. So many artists and businesspeople and athletes come from—”
“We know, Dad!”
Okay. So now wasn’t the time for a history lesson, but he still had more to say to his kids. “The other thing to remember is that it’s not what you have that makes you good and important. It’s what’s in your hearts.”
“Uh-huh,” Diego said.
“Can we turn on the TV?” Sofia asked.
He sighed and took a good look at Sofia, then at Diego. Not only did they look upset, but they both looked weary.
It was tiring when people took swings at your self-image. And maybe something he’d said would sink in later.
“Sure, okay,” he said, standing up. “I’ll be out on the porch if you want to talk.”
No answer. As he walked outside, the TV blared behind him.
Eduardo sat, looking out over the grass, thinking.
Obviously, a lot of this new talk and negativity came from Fiona’s mom. He couldn’t blame Fiona for what her mother thought or said. He didn’t know whether she agreed with any of it or not.
But he did know that Fiona could buy her kids anything they wanted.
If they blended their families, Fiona’s mother would be a part of his life, and more important, a part of his kids’ lives. They’d be exposed to attitudes he tried to protect them from. Exposed on a frequent basis, from an actual relative.
And there was another problem: his own kids would have far less materially than Fiona’s kids would. And no matter how hard you tried to instill the right values in your kids, they were still kids. They wanted what other children had, especially those in their own families.
Other people would look at him and Fiona the way her mother did. Thinking he’d married her for money, or for a green card. The very idea made heat rise through his body, made his head feel like it was going to explode.
He couldn’t live like that. Couldn’t expose his kids to the poison. He had to protect his family; he’d vowed that he would.
He sat another half hour, thinking.
And then he got on the phone with the manager of the motel they’d stayed at before. Negotiated a good rate for an end room, where they wouldn’t bother the other guests.
Now that he had an alternative place to live, though, something nagged at him. Some feeling that he wasn’t doing the right thing.
Chapter Thirteen
Fiona had just started to recover from her mother’s digs when Brownie went crazy with barking, and Fiona opened the front door to find Susan and Daisy, both wearing workout clothes. Their friendl
y faces looked like sunshine after a morning of grey clouds.
“Ready for our walk?” Susan asked.
“Shh, Brownie!” Fiona grabbed the dog’s collar, looked back into the house and then frowned out at her friends. “I’d love to come,” she said, “but Mom’s visiting. I can’t make it today. Didn’t you get my text?”
“We need you.” Daisy gave her a winning smile.
“Go find your walking shoes,” Susan said and then added in a whisper, “I’ll take care of your mom.”
“Who is it, Fiona?” Her mother came into the foyer, and her standard social smile appeared on her face. “Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Mrs. Farmingham!” Susan gently shoved Fiona to the side as she walked in, holding out a hand. “I didn’t get a chance to chat with you when you got here last night.”
“Oh, yes. The babysitter.” Mom didn’t hold out her hand, which was unusual for her. “Susan, right? I remember meeting you a while back, but I’m sorry I don’t remember your last name. I have such trouble pronouncing... Well, it was a bit unusual, I think.”
Susan didn’t retract her hand, although her smile widened into something of a grimace. “That’s right. Hayashi was my maiden name. But I’m married to Sam Hinton now. You know, the head of Hinton Industries. So I’m Susan Hinton now.”
“Oh!” Now Fiona’s mother’s smile became more genuine, and she shook Susan’s hand with warmth.
“Get your shoes!” Daisy nudged Fiona toward the stairs and then walked up to Fiona’s mother. “And I’m Daisy Hinton, Sam’s sister,” she said sweetly. “I was babysitting the kids last night, too, but in the confusion I don’t think we really exchanged names.”
Fiona jogged upstairs, grabbed her workout shoes and sat at the top of the stairs to put them on. If her friends could get her an hour away from her mother’s negative commentary, she’d buy them both enormous pastries at the Chatterbox.
And one for herself as well.
“I know how much you love your grandkids,” Daisy was enthusing. “Fiona has said so much about all the nice gifts you send.”
“So we thought we’d give you a little time alone with them, away from Fiona.” Susan’s voice was firm. “She has a hard time letting anyone else take charge.”
“Come on, Fiona!” Daisy called gaily up the stairs. “We won’t take no for an answer. Your mom wants the kids to herself.”
Blinking, Fiona walked down the stairs. No way was her mom going to let herself be manipulated like this. But it would be so nice to escape...
Susan grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. Bye, Mrs. Farmingham!”
“Mom?” Fiona looked over her shoulder at her mother as Susan pulled her out the door.”
“Thanks so much for letting us steal her away!” Daisy had her hand on the doorknob. “Your grandkids are going to be thrilled!”
Her mother looked a little befuddled. “Well...”
“We’ll be back by dinnertime,” Susan called. “In fact, we’ll bring dinner. Don’t want you to have to cook. Just enjoy the kids.”
By dinnertime? Fiona looked at her phone. It was only two o’clock. Her mom couldn’t...
“That’ll be fine, I guess,” her mom said in a faint voice.
“You’re such a sweetheart!” Daisy said and closed the door behind them with a sharp click.
They walked down the porch steps and around the side of the house in silence, but once they were safely out of sight and earshot of Fiona’s mother, Susan and Daisy high-fived each other.
“You guys, I can’t go for a walk without telling the kids.”
“I saw Lauren with a phone when we came in,” Daisy said. “Why don’t you just text her?”
“I don’t want to encourage...”
“What’s her new number?” Susan asked.
“I don’t remember. I don’t even want her to have a...”
“Did you put it in your phone?” Susan asked as they walked past the carriage house. She took Fiona’s phone out of her hand and started scrolling.
Sparkles loped over on three legs, nudged Fiona’s hand and whined.
“Are you looking for Brownie?” Fiona asked. She gestured toward her house. “He’s back there. Go get him.”
Sparkles cocked her head as if trying to understand.
“Go get Brownie,” Fiona said again, waving an arm toward her house.
The dog’s tongue lolled out in a sort of smile, hanging to one side, and she ambled toward Fiona’s house.
“Here, I found Lauren’s number and I’m texting her,” Susan said. “I’m saying, ‘It’s Mrs. Hinton. Congrats on new phone.’”
A few seconds later, Susan’s phone buzzed and she read out Lauren’s text:
So excited! Put you in my contacts!
“But I haven’t even decided if I’m going to allow...” Fiona protested.
“Hey, there.” Eduardo’s voice sounded from the direction of the carriage house. Fiona’s heart pumped harder as she looked over to see him jump nimbly off the side of the steps and walk toward them. “We need to talk,” he told her.
Daisy grabbed Susan’s arm. “No problem,” she said to Eduardo. And to Fiona: “We’ll wait out by the alley. Go talk.”
When Fiona saw the tight expression on Eduardo’s face, though, a sense of dread rose in her. “Can we talk” never meant anything good.
It was how her mother often started critical conversations. It was how her ex had informed her he’d be out of town for another business trip... Business trips that, she’d later learned, hadn’t even existed but had served as cover for his life with his second family.
“I’m not happy about some things I heard this morning,” Eduardo said. His voice wasn’t kind and gentle like usual. It was sharp, almost angry.
It’s happening again.
“My kids came home spouting misconceptions about our economic status and our Mexican heritage.” He warmed to his topic. “Someone even gave your kids the notion that we’re illegal immigrants, which is absolutely ridiculous. My kids and I are American citizens.”
Somehow, her mother’s words had gotten back to him. She opened her mouth to try to explain.
He didn’t give her the chance. “I can’t have that, Fiona. I want my kids to be proud of who they are and comfortable with the life I’m able to provide. What I heard this morning put that at risk.”
What was the use of trying to discuss it? It had never done any good in the past. Arguing with her mom, pleading with her ex...all of it was basically useless.
“I don’t... I didn’t mean to... I mean, I’m sorry...” Her words tangled and she gave up, her shoulders slumping.
“Do you actually agree with the things my kids heard?” His voice was angry, accusatory. As if he’d already made up his mind, judged her and found her wanting.
She looked down to hide her distress. How could she argue back intelligently and convince him he was wrong about her especially when her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces? When the bright new hope she’d been nurturing was fading to black?
“Fiona, I thought we had something here. I was really starting to care for you.” Anger and confusion clouded his eyes.
She had to speak up, to explain. But the words were stuck in her throat. She felt the same way as when she’d taken hard tests at school. The pressure was on, and she knew she was going to fail. Her heart pounded. It was hard to catch her breath.
She should have known it wasn’t going to work with Eduardo. He was a wonderful, caring, appealing man.
And women like Fiona didn’t get to have wonderful, caring, appealing men.
Words continued to fail her.
“I’d never have guessed you were on board with what was said.” His chin lifted and his shoulders squared. “My kids and I will be moving out.”
The sudden declaration made her
gasp. Images of their time together—working in the garden, helping their kids learn to be responsible dog owners, sharing a tender kiss—flashed through her mind in a steadily darkening kaleidoscope. She looked down so he wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes, nodded because she couldn’t speak. And even if she could finally find the words, what would be the point now?
She turned and forced herself to walk toward Susan and Daisy rather than collapsing into a sobbing heap on the ground.
Up ahead, her friends stood at the gate that separated the carriage house’s yard area from the alley. “You ready?” Susan asked, glancing up from her phone.
Daisy was waving at a couple of kids who were carrying fishing poles toward the creek.
Good, they weren’t paying attention to her. Because no way could she talk about what had just happened without breaking down.
“Let’s go!” Daisy said.
Fiona nodded and followed them blindly to their usual walking route.
Susan was pecking her fingers rapidly at her phone and nearly bumped into a parked car. Daisy caught her elbow on one side and Fiona automatically took the other.
“Thanks,” Susan said, still without looking up. “I said, ‘Taking your mom for a walk. Your grandma’s in the house, but you’re in charge. K?’ She’ll be thrilled.”
Fiona’s mother-brain kicked in and she swallowed her tears. “But I didn’t even talk to her...”
Susan’s phone buzzed again, and Susan looked, smiled and held it out for Daisy and Fiona to see.
“KK?” Daisy asked. “How’d she learn texting shortcuts when this is her first day with a new phone?”
“Don’t question it, just come on.”
They headed through the residential section of Rescue River. But the beauty of the blooming redbuds and dogwoods, the sound of a lawn mower and the smell of fresh-cut grass had no power to lift Fiona’s spirits.
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