They chatted about what Karl had been up to on the trip back to his brother’s house in the suburbs. Karl had done well for himself. He’d bought a house, had a successful business, and was now marrying the woman he loved. Evan had met his brother’s fiancée, Sarah, once before he’d moved to Houston, and she seemed down to earth and nice.
McClane barked in the backseat. It sounded like he’d recovered from his flight. Evan got out, unstrapped McClane, and together they followed Karl inside.
In the living room. Sarah was sitting at a table, putting paper lanterns together and swearing under her breath. She was originally from Jamaica and her dark hair was restrained by a red scarf. She looked up and smiled.
“Hey, Evan.” She got to her feet and kissed his cheek.
“Hi. Thanks for letting me stay.” It hadn’t occurred to him until he was flying here that Karl might not want his older brother hanging around while he was newly engaged. Evan had made up his mind to see how things went, but he could always find somewhere else to stay if he was getting in the way. “What are you working on?” he asked Sarah.
“Decorations for the party. It completely slipped my mind with all the other preparations.”
“Need a hand?”
“Yes, please. The instructions make it sound simple, but they’re tricky little things.”
Pleased he could do something to help, he got to work.
***
The next day, Evan woke to the smell of turkey cooking in the oven. Thanksgiving. Briefly, he debated whether he could pretend to be sick and not leave his room, but he knew it wouldn’t work.
He got dressed and found Sarah and Karl in the kitchen cooking. He smiled at the domestic scene. “Need any help?”
Sarah glanced over and smiled. “You could peel the sweet potatoes.”
“Sure.”
Karl glanced over from the pot he was stirring and said, “Mom was really happy when I told her you were coming.”
Evan tensed. Mention of his parents was inevitable, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. “That’s a surprise.”
Karl sighed. “They treated you badly, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have some kind of relationship with them.”
“Why would I want to?” They hadn’t believed in him at all.
“Because they’re your parents. Because one day we’re going to have kids, and it would be a hell of a lot more pleasant at family gatherings if I didn’t have to stress about you fighting on what’s supposed to be a happy occasion.” Karl was agitated.
Evan had never considered that Karl might feel like he was caught between them. Was it worth holding on to his grudge, if it hurt his brother who had done nothing? It was hard. That shield had protected him for almost ten years. Could he let it go?
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” Karl beamed at him. “You know, Thanksgiving has improved a lot since we were kids, but that’s probably because I cook the meal.”
His father had always grumbled about the cost, but instead of pointing it out he said, “That’s not saying much. Everyone’s a better cook than Mom.”
Karl laughed. “Amen to that.”
Evan smiled, pleased to see his brother happy. He would be on his best behavior when his parents arrived.
When the food was almost ready, the doorbell rang. Evan glanced at his brother. Karl’s expression begged him to be nice. Was he ready for this? He had to be. He wasn’t going to ruin the day for his baby brother, no matter what his own feelings on the situation were.
Sarah went to answer the door. Evan moved out of the small kitchen into the living room. He wanted space around him, wanted the opportunity to move if he needed to.
“Evan?” Karl wanted reassurance.
“I’ll try to be good.” He wasn’t going to promise a miracle.
The voices in the hall came closer. Evan braced himself.
His parents stepped into the room. They were older; his father’s hair had a generous sprinkling of gray and his mother’s face was more lined than he remembered. He had a moment to study them before they noticed him, and all conversation ceased.
“Evan,” his mother breathed. “You look well.”
He nodded. “Mom. Dad.” What the hell could he say? Nice to see you? That was a lie. “How are you?”
“We’re both very well.”
The child inside him wanted to say, look at me, see what I’ve done with myself, look at how much I’ve achieved on my own. Instead, he stayed silent.
“Helen, Powell, why don’t you take a seat?” Sarah invited. “Lunch is ready.”
Evan went into the kitchen to help Sarah carry out the food.
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “This really means a lot to Karl.”
“I know. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He took the bowl of salad she handed him, and then followed her back to the dining room.
His parents were seated on one side of the table and Evan took a chair opposite. Karl and Sarah chatted with his parents while he concentrated on eating.
“So, Evan,” said Powell, “Karl tells us you’ve got an exhibition in New York next week.”
“That’s right.”
“Where’s it at?” He laughed. “Or won’t I have heard of it?”
“It’s the Real Life gallery in Chelsea.”
Both his parents raised their eyebrows.
“Didn’t you used to talk about that gallery when you were younger?” Helen asked.
Evan blinked. He couldn’t believe she’d remembered. He hadn’t thought she’d listened when he’d come home from a day in the square and talked about the latest exhibition at Real Life. “I used to walk past on my way home from work,” he said.
“That’s right. You must be thrilled. I’m happy for you.” She gave him a cautious smile.
“Thanks.” He couldn’t quite believe his ears. His mother was happy for him?
“So do people actually pay ridiculous sums for your paintings?” Powell asked.
Helen glared at her husband. Trust his father to bring it straight back to money.
“I earn enough.”
“Not too much, I’d guess, if your brother had to pick you up from the airport.”
Evan refused to rise to the bait.
“A cab wouldn’t take McClane,” Sarah said quickly and handed her future father-in-law a bowl. “More salad, Powell?”
“That’s right.” Evan smiled at Sarah. She was trying to keep things polite, but she needn’t worry about his reaction. He wasn’t going to spoil his brother’s day. He would be civil.
“McClane? Who the hell is McClane?” Powell demanded.
Until now his dog had been sitting behind the sofa. At the sound of his name, he came trotting out.
“That’s McClane.” Evan nodded to his dog.
“Isn’t he the cutest!” Helen exclaimed, leaning over to give him a pat.
Evan frowned. He never would have taken his mother for a dog person. They’d never been allowed any pets.
“Expensive creatures,” Powell said, ignoring the dog entirely.
“Anyone for dessert?” Karl asked.
It was a very long afternoon. The conversation while they ate revolved around the engagement party, which avoided any further awkwardness. Then after lunch, they sat and watched football. Evan wasn’t particularly interested, but he did what was expected of him and cheered for the same team as Karl and Powell. Finally, his parents left.
When they’d gone, Karl said, “Thanks, Evan.”
Evan shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.” It hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared, but he did have an urge for some fresh air. “I’m going to take McClane for a walk.” He grabbed the leash, whistled for his dog, and headed out the door.
***
The engagement party was being held at a nearby bar. Evan wore his brown pinstriped suit and vowed to be on his best behavior. His parents hadn’t embraced him warmly, but he hadn’t wanted or expected that. His mother had been far more attentive than she’d e
ver been, and his father had barely changed.
He headed to the venue early with Karl and Sarah, so he could help them set up. As the guests filtered in, Evan was surprised how many people he recognized. Karl was still friends with almost all of his school friends and so there were guys Evan had known growing up. It was kind of surreal to see them all as adults. Then there were the family members – aunts, uncles, cousins, and his grandparents on both sides. He’d kept in touch with them a little over the years, though he’d never accepted any invitations where his parents were likely to attend. It was so great to catch up with the relatives, and they were all keenly interested in how he was doing. It was a nice change.
The party was quite a casual affair. After everyone had arrived, there were a few speeches and finger food was passed around. Toward the end of the night he was walking by his grandma and she grabbed his arm to stop him. She was talking to his parents.
“It’s so lovely that Evan is here, isn’t it, Helen?”
“It is.” There was that cautious smile from his mother again.
“Why didn’t you bring a date?” Grandma asked. “Are there no ladies in your life?”
His heart hurt. He’d made a concerted effort not to think about Carly. It was too painful. “Not at the moment.”
“That’s a shame. I was sure you would have married before Karl.”
“Who’s going to want a man who can’t provide for her?” Powell asked.
Evan’s control slipped for a moment, but he grabbed hold of it again. It was Karl’s night. His father’s comments couldn’t hurt him. It didn’t matter what his parents thought of him, or his work. He’d been holding out for their praise for far too long and he might never get it. As long as he was happy, as long as he knew the work was the best he could do, that was all that mattered.
The epiphany chased all of the tension from his body.
“Powell, that’s quite enough,” Helen said. “Evan seems to be doing perfectly well and he’s not once asked us for help. You need to let go of your resentment. Your son is doing what he loves.” She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at her husband.
Evan’s jaw dropped. He’d never heard his mother speak so passionately.
She turned to him. “Ignore him, Evan. He’s just jealous.”
It was so ridiculous that his mother was defending him, that his father could be jealous, that Evan couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.
“It’s hardly funny,” Helen said.
He didn’t bother keeping the incredulity from his voice. “You told me to go and not to come back. There’s no jealousy involved. But you’re right. I am doing well for myself and I am enjoying life.” He turned to go, but his mother grabbed his arm.
“I am truly sorry for the way we acted. We didn’t want you living the hard life and we thought ultimatums would prevent that. We were wrong.”
Evan had no words. He should say something, but nothing came out. His mother was apologizing to him.
“I’d . . . we’d like to come to your exhibition, if you’ll let us.”
His response was automatic. “It’s open to the public.” At the hurt on his mother’s face he added, “But I might have a spare invitation for opening night.” Karl was right. It was time he mended the fences, if only for the sake of his brother.
Helen positively beamed at him. “That would be lovely.”
Not quite sure how to deal with this sudden change in their relationship, Evan excused himself.
He needed a drink.
Chapter 20
The Central American Refugee Symposium started at nine in the morning, and Carly was there with Carmen and Zita. She listened to the forums, taking in the latest research findings and was discouraged by the horrific standards of the detention centers. Why didn’t those in charge understand that jailing these people wasn’t the way to start a relationship with them?
At the lunch break, Carly called Hayden. She needed some positive news and she wanted to check the details of her flight to New York were confirmed.
“Sure is. The helicopter will be at the conference center at three. It will take you straight to the airport and your plane is scheduled to take off as soon as you arrive. There’s a shower on board, so you can freshen up and change. You should land in New York just before the gallery opens.”
Her stomach twitched. But did Evan want her there? She hoped so. “You’ve confirmed the transfer in New York as well?”
“Of course. There’s a helipad on the building next door to the exhibition. You’ll be there on time.”
Carly hung up and breathed out. She hoped she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. She hoped Evan would be happy to see her. He hadn’t called her in the week since he’d left. But there was no point worrying about it now. She needed to focus on why she was here. Her speech was straight after lunch.
She walked over to her mother and Zita.
“How do you think it’s going?” Zita asked.
“I overheard a few government officials chatting during the morning break. It’s definitely sparking debate.”
The problem was, many of the presentations so far had dealt with statistics and costs. They needed to bring humanity into the picture. She had to talk about the girls’ stories.
They went back into the auditorium and finally it was Carly’s turn to speak. Her legs were wobbly as she walked on to the stage and looked out at the audience. There were thousands there to hear her talk. She swallowed. She had to connect with them. She had to drop her professional persona and speak to them as people. She had to be Carly, not Carolina.
All of her nerves melted away. She could be herself.
She explained her background, giving an overview of Casa Flanagan. Then she took a deep breath. “This situation is not about money, it’s not about the legality of the refugees’ actions, it’s about humanity. My family started our charity because we were fortunate. Our refugee application was accepted before we arrived, but we paid the price to wait. My father was killed by the people we were fleeing from, the week before our application was approved.”
There was a collective gasp from the crowd.
“It was difficult starting in a country so different from El Salvador, and in such a huge city, but we had each other to hold on to when things got tough, when US customs were confusing, and we were trying to figure out this new world. The unaccompanied children don’t have that. They are far away from everything they know and everyone they love, but they have one thing in common. They want a better, safer life.”
A few people nodded in the audience, but there were some who sat stony-faced.
“They’ve come from countries where gender inequality is at a peak, where they are treated like meat, and where violence is so bad that a father would give his own daughter to the gangs in order to ensure his own safety. They understand that fleeing their village or their city will not help because the issues are rife throughout the country.” Carly told the stories of two of her foster sisters. “There is nowhere safe for them to go. And so they flee to the United States, the land of the free and the home of the brave, in hope of a better life.”
A few people smiled.
“There is no one braver than they are, leaving their homes, risking their lives in search of freedom and hope. Now they are here, they don’t sit around all day, living off handouts. No, they are some of the hardest workers I have ever met, practicing English, studying their lessons. They all have dreams of what they want to become: doctors, lawyers, teachers, and some dream of returning home and fighting to improve their country so they can stop the exodus of refugees. All they need is a little time, a little support, in order to be able to make a difference.”
Carly swallowed the lump in her throat. “When I meet these children I always think, what if the situation were reversed? What if it was my sister fleeing the country, trying to find somewhere she wouldn’t be raped and abused? Wouldn’t I do everything in my power to help her? Wouldn’t I want people to sup
port her, to protect her, to give her the opportunities she wasn’t able to get here?” She paused to let that sink in. “Of course I would. These refugees aren’t faceless masses. They are people like you and me, they are mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers. They are your neighbors, your friends, your colleagues. They are people who deserve as much of a chance at a good life as you or I. So, please, stop thinking of them as numbers, as wasted dollars, and start thinking of them as people. Thank you.”
The applause was loud and even the stony-faced people at the front clapped. Her heart lifted. She hoped it was enough to make a difference.
She went backstage and Hayden was standing there clapping.
“That was a sensational speech.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want to miss your speech. Plus, I wanted to make sure you didn’t get caught up with people wanting to talk to you and miss your helicopter.”
She hesitated. Could she really race off now? Shouldn’t she be around to talk, to answer questions, to cement what she’d said in her speech?
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked.
“Hell yes, Carly. You’ve done all you can here. I’ll stay and represent Comunidad. Your mother and sister are here somewhere too, aren’t they?”
At that moment Zita and Carmen came backstage.
“That was awesome, Carly.” Zita hugged her and Carmen nodded, dabbing her eyes.
“She needs to get on a plane,” Hayden told them both.
“What plane?” Zita asked.
“She’s flying to New York tonight.”
Zita grinned. “Evan’s exhibition?”
Carly nodded.
“What time’s your flight?”
“Now. I’m taking a private jet, so it’ll wait.”
“You should go, Carly. You’ve done all you can here.” Zita said.
“What if people have questions?”
“They know where to find you, or they can ask us,” Hayden said.
“Go, niñita,” her mother urged. “Evan needs you.”
She was right. Carly turned Hayden. “Where do I go?”
***
Evan had another couple of hours at least before he needed to get ready for the exhibition, but he couldn’t sit still. He’d already taken McClane for the marathon of all walks, and his dog was recovering in a corner. Karl was still at work and Sarah was in her office working.
Change of Heart (The Flanagan Sisters, #2) Page 21
