“She needs a doctor but I cannot afford one.”
“We can. We can bring one right away.”
She nodded. “Very well. I will wait for you, and I can send Jesús to help you find your way back.”
“Jesús?”
“Yes. My son, the one who led you here.”
Twenty-One
“What’s going on? What did she say?” Spencer asked under his breath as they followed the little boy down the road. He fretted over Miranda’s moist eyes and high color, worried she might be in a state of shock from her ordeal at the hands of the young man called Enrique. He had to rush to keep up with her, hating the taste of fetid dust in his mouth. “Miranda!”
She stopped suddenly, turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him hard. “Oh, Spencer. I think God answered your prayer.” She let out a sob. “This boy’s mother says she knows Lupe!”
Spencer tightened his arms around Miranda, enjoying the natural way she came to him. “Are you sure? Isn’t that too much of a coincidence? I mean, you saw the type of people who lived there. We almost got killed! What if it’s a trick? It sounds like some kind of set up.”
Miranda gave him a little push and she stepped away from him. “You prayed, remember? And why pray if you don’t believe God will answer?”
He put up his hands. “Whoa. It’s not always that simple!”
The little boy stopped and watched them with a curious gaze. Spencer felt his face grow hot under the scrutiny.
“Why not?” Miranda persisted. “It’s the best lead we’ve had yet. We just need to get a doctor who will help the sick grandmother. When she’s well enough to speak, she might know something about Soledad.”
“Might,” he muttered. “Might isn’t much.”
Miranda clenched her fists. “What are you saying? That you don’t want to help anymore? Because I need a doctor, and I’m about out of cash.”
“I’ll take care of the doctor,” he said hurriedly, flinching at the disappointment in her tone. “You find one and I’ll pay for him, okay?”
She gave him a tight smile and turned to continue after the boy. Spencer followed, fighting the feeling that he’d somehow failed her. He hadn’t been fast enough to save her from that hoodlum, and now this! How could a thieving little monster lead them to a one in a million contact?
Miranda's words came back to him. You prayed, remember?
Shame sliced through him at the thought. Yes, he prayed and of course he believed in the One he prayed to. But this was beyond belief.
As they neared the city, Spencer began to notice a change in the decorations. They matched his mood. “What’s with all the skulls suddenly everywhere? I didn’t know they celebrated Halloween here.”
“Not Halloween,” Miranda tossed over her shoulder. “Dia de los Muertes.”
“Can you speak English please?”
“Day of the Dead, Spencer. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of it!”
“I haven’t. It sounds morbid.”
She gave him a perturbed look and continued after the boy. At length, they arrived to a more metropolitan area. After asking passerby for the location of the nearest doctor, Miranda disappeared inside a building. He and the boy remained outside.
Spencer racked his brain for the few Spanish words he’d picked up over the last week. “Te llamo?”
The boy stared back at him with a bored expression. Apparently Spencer didn’t use the right words. He hoped he hadn’t said anything offensive.
“Do all these skeletons scare you? They scare me. It’s ghoulish.”
Nothing.
Spencer spied a candy store across the street. He pointed at a row of neon colored skulls with words on them, ostensibly names. “Do you want some of those?”
“Cavaleras,” the boy said.
“Is that your name? Cavaleras?”
“Sí.” He grabbed Spencer by the hand and tugged him toward the shop.
Inside, Spencer pointed to the rows of little skulls and pulled some money from his pocket. The shopkeeper seemed to understand and filled a bag after taking the money.
Spencer gave the bag to the boy, who stuck his hand first in the bag, then shoved a handful of skulls into his mouth. Spencer tried not to grimace. There was something gruesome about the sight of a person chomping on green, pink, and yellow colored craniums.
He went outside to look for Miranda. When he saw her, he hurried across the street to meet her.
“I found a doctor who could come to the woman’s mother.”
“Great!” he said trying to sound enthused. “I got Cavalera here some creepy candy. He seems happy enough.”
She glanced at the boy who had a growing goatee of sugar crystals. “His name isn’t Cavalera, silly. It’s Jesús.”
“He told me Cavalera.”
“That’s a skeleton. He just wanted some skeleton candy.”
“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. “Nothing makes sense in this town.”
“Are you ready? The doctor doesn’t have all the time in the world and we’re, I mean, you’re paying him by the hour.”
Spencer looked at the white-haired man with a long white mustache. He carried the ubiquitous black leather bag. Spencer shivered to think what old-fashioned instruments and medicines lay within. “Let’s go.”
Within the hour, they arrived back in Jesús’ neighborhood. The same dog snarled at their approach, but no young punks were present.
The little boy ran into the house and apparently announced their arrival, as his mother came out a short time later. When she saw the doctor, tears sprung from her eyes. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer and spoke in a long string of unintelligible words.
Spencer glanced at Miranda. She seemed enraptured by the tableau before her. She looked over at him with a watery smile. He drew near her, and unable to resist, touched her hand. She seized it and held tight, a fact, which pleased him beyond measure.
“What’s going on?” he whispered.
She leaned close enough that he could smell the spicy scent of the shampoo she used. “The doctor will look at her. We need to be ready to purchase medication if he calls for it.”
The sound of raspy coughing could be heard from within the shack. Spencer’s heart went out to the families who lived in such conditions. How could one persevere without the hope he’d grown to take for granted?
He glanced down at Miranda’s hand intertwined with his. She seemed unaffected by the contact, while every fiber of his being thrummed at the sensation of her trusting hand in his. He squeezed his fingers around hers. She looked at him and smiled. A beautiful smile that lit up her whole face. With a start, he realized how rare her smiles were. In that instant, it became important to make them appear on a regular basis.
Inwardly he prayed, Lord, let this be the break we’ve been looking for. Heal the sick woman, make her well. Ease her pain and help her give us the information we need. His gaze rested on Miranda, who stared at the door as if her every hope was pinned upon it. And help me to be what Miranda needs right now.
The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, gilding the tops of the shacks with a spurious shine, masking the filth, the poverty, and appearance of despair. For a moment, the sun hovered over the neighborhood, as if in momentary blessing, before easing below the horizon.
Spencer quashed a stab of anxiety. What could be taking the doctor so long? Before his thought ended, the white-haired man emerged from the house. Miranda rushed forward, pulling her hand free. Spencer felt the break keenly.
Miranda poured out a stream of Spanish that sounded worried to his ears. The doctor replied, and after much back and forth conversation, she turned to him.
“We need to get some antibiotics. Jesús’ grandmother has pneumonia. He says there is a farmacia not too far from here. He usually has some with him but is out at the moment.”
By the time the antibiotics were purchased and delivered, and another interminable wait outside the door of the shack
, the neighborhood was crouched in shadow. The doctor emerged, his sallow face lit harshly by the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. He spoke to Miranda. At her crestfallen expression, Spencer put a hand on her shoulder.
She turned to him, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. Spencer stepped closer. She looked like she was trying not to cry. “Two days. He said we must wait at least two days before trying to speak to the woman.”
She seemed far more upset by this news than being trapped by a man with a knife. He sent up a silent, fervent prayer that this old woman was the missing piece to the puzzle, incredible though it seemed to him. For Miranda, he had to have faith.
They arrived back at the hotel via taxi in silence. Spencer longed to reach out to her, to comfort her somehow. He felt as inadequate as when her mother died. When they approached their room doors, she turned to him.
“I don’t think I can stand to be alone right now. Can you come in for a bit and talk? We can have room service send up a snack and sit out on the balcony after we get cleaned up.”
Spencer noticed she spoke quickly as if she were afraid he’d say no. Didn’t she realize he wanted nothing more than to stay by her side?
As he agreed and followed her into the room, he realized his attitude toward Miranda had undergone a profound change. Before, he’d shuddered at the thought of being mixed up in her troubles. Now, he was smack dab in the middle of them and almost dreading the moment when she no longer had need of him.
Miranda fluttered about the room, digging under the clothing draped on various pieces of furniture. He smiled when she found the room service card.
“What sounds good?”
She held it up for his inspection. Spencer went to her side and looked over her shoulder, enjoying the way her lashes fanned out over her cheeks as she studied the menu.
“It all looks good to me.”
She twisted around slightly, raising her gaze to him. “How about the appetizer tray?”
He nodded. While she made the call, he went to his room to shower and change. When he returned, her damp hair told him she must’ve done the same thing. She wore a pretty yellow blouse and blue jeans.
She smiled in welcome and led him to the balcony doors. A gust of heavy air blew past them as they walked out onto the balcony. Miranda turned to him, leaning back against the railing.
“Rock solid,” she teased despite the strain of keeping her emotions at bay, emotions he could see brimming at the surface of her expression. “I won’t need you to rescue me this time.”
He smiled and joined her, unable to resist testing the strength of the railing. Wrapping his fingers around it, he pushed against the cool, twisted metal with a short burst of might. She was right. Solid as a rock. He breathed a bit easier.
Miranda faced the railing and rested her arms along the top, gazing out at the streets below. Spencer followed suit, aware that his gaze lingered on her more than the view. The lights from below highlighted the gentle curves of her face and warm tones of her skin.
“Do you think this is the big break?”
Her soft question jolted him from his reverie. He considered his answer, noting the wet shine in her eyes. “I think it’s a path worth taking. At the very worst, it could be a dead end. And we’ll be no further behind than when we started.”
She gave him a steady look, her breathing shallow. “And yet you can’t stay here forever to help. When does Spencer Meyers have to return to the real world?”
Spencer had been wondering that himself, except he’d chosen not to linger long on the answer. The fact was he had to return to the States soon. His personal time wouldn’t last much longer. His mom might need him. He couldn’t stay in Mexico City forever. He licked his lips, not wanting to respond.
Miranda’s gaze seemed wistful. “I know you have to go back soon.” Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her fingers on the railing. “Do you understand that unless I find my sister, I won’t be coming with you?”
“I understand your sincerity.”
“That’s a not an answer.”
He smiled. “Maybe.”
She shook her head, a tiny smile tugging the corners of her lips. Despite the mirth, however, her question was valid. He couldn’t leave Miranda behind. His conscience wouldn’t let him.
Already, he’d failed to prove adequate protection. What would she have to face without him? Spencer didn’t dare voice his opinion. It would only spoil the moment. And there was a slim chance this contact they met today could be the key to finding Soledad.
A knock on the door saved him from further comment. Miranda’s look told him she knew it, too. He followed her to the door. After they received their order, they returned to the balcony.
Before Spencer could ask where she planned to sit, she dropped to the floor of the balcony and sat with her legs crossed. He joined her and inhaled the heavenly aroma wafting from under the wrapping.
Miranda peeled back the covering and set a huge platter on the ground between them. “Tamales, mini tostadas, tortilla chips and salsa, a little bit of everything.”
“It smells delicious.” He hesitated. “Before we eat, could I say a little prayer?”
“Of course.”
Spencer reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. He took a deep breath. “Lord, we thank You that we were able to get help for a family who needed it, even if it’s not the answer we’re looking for. Please be with them. And if we need to seek elsewhere, lead us in that direction.” In his heart, he finished, And thank You for Miranda. “Amen.”
Spencer released Miranda’s hand and attempted to get his jumbled thoughts in order. He stifled a frown, feeling as if the wind scattered his emotions like a pile of dry leaves on the sidewalks below.
Miranda, obviously not weighed down by his predicament, dug in, taking a tamale. “Mmmm!” she said after a bite. “Hurry, or there won’t be any left for you.”
He grinned and began to eat.
Twenty-Two
Miranda opened her eyes and lay motionless, noting the soft light emanating through the thin window coverings, and not wanting to disturb the stillness for the moment. Despite a good night’s sleep, fatigue ate into her very bones. Her muscles felt steeped in liquid lead, preventing her from rising.
She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the cause for the heaviness pressing upon her. Her mind searched for a route around the reason, but there was no escaping the significance of the day. Besides, Spencer would be waiting for her. She needed to get up and join him. She released a slow breath and sat up in the bed.
Spencer. When had he become the focus of her day? Her reason for effort? Pulling her knees up to her chest, she thought back to her time with him on the balcony last night. She’d sensed a change in the air and it hadn’t been the light breeze tugging at her curls. Something was different about him. There seemed to be a softening in his stance toward her, a release of tension.
Strange.
Two days. What in the world would she do with herself for two whole days? There’d be plenty of Dia de Los Muertos celebrations going on, but the riot going on in her heart would no doubt supercede any party atmosphere.
Miranda dragged herself from the bed and took a shower. Afterwards, she dug through the few garments hanging on the clothes rack. She settled on a ruffled azure blouse and khaki Capri pants with her leather sandals. Perhaps she’d do some shopping today. She still had a few pesos left, enough to buy a new dress or two.
***
Spencer looked up when he saw Miranda enter the hotel dining room. He stood and pulled a chair out for her as she approached the table. When she was seated, he sat down opposite her and smiled.
“Buenas días, Miranda.”
She gave him an encouraging smile and smoothed her cloth napkin on her lap. “Very good, Spencer. Your Spanish is coming along by leaps and bounds.”
Spencer laughed softly at the wry tone of her response. While she perused her menu, he took a moment to study her. Despite her fresh
appearance and bright blouse, he noticed a rather flat look to her expression. The skin around her eyes seemed thin and bruised, giving her an older, strained look.
Spencer wished he could think of something to say to return her to her usual vibrant self, even if that vibrancy threatened to upset his equilibrium. He thought back to their time the night before. She seemed almost confiding in him, as if she had come to trust him. He hoped nothing had changed from then to now.
A waiter appeared at the side of their table.
“Miranda?”
She flashed him a look over the top of the menu and turned to the waiter with a quick shake of her head. “Nothing for me, gracias.”
Spencer raised his brows. “You’re not hungry?”
She shook her head and handed the menu to the waiter. Spencer, not wishing to eat in front of her, ordered a cup of coffee. After the waiter left, he reached across the table to touch her hand, needing to connect with her somehow.
“Are you nervous about the wait?”
Miranda’s fingers closed around his while she lowered her gaze. “Yes,” she said quietly.
“Is there anything we can do today in the meantime?”
She raised her gaze to his. Was her look beseeching or did he just need to feel needed by her?
“I can’t really think of anything that might help. We just somehow need to pass the time until the day after tomorrow.”
“Well, we’re in the middle of a world-renown shopping district.” As soon as he uttered the words, Spencer wondered if it was a sexist comment but at least it could take their mind off the long wait ahead of them. “I’d like to find something for my mom.”
Apparently Miranda saw nothing remiss. She nodded. “I thought, in the spirit of hope, that I might pick up a few things for Soledad…for when I find her.”
Spencer tightened his grip on her hand. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Milagro For Miranda (Book Three Oregon In Love) Page 15
