by Mary Feliz
“Stephen told me to stay away until I heard from him.”
“I know he did. But according to the lawyer, Nell Bevans, your birth certificate has to be issued in the county where you were born. That’s Santa Clara County, so we need to work with a judge in San Jose. As soon as I can assure Nell that you’ll be here, she’ll make an appointment with the court.” I went on to explain the rest of the steps that would culminate in a happy outcome for Rafi and free Stephen.
“I drove up here in Stephen’s car in the middle of the night, so there was no traffic,” Rafi told me. “I don’t have a driver’s license and I was terrified that I’d get pulled over or get into an accident.”
“Is there someone who can drive you back down here? Or I could look at the bus schedules along with trains or even a shuttle flight. We need you back in the Bay Area as quickly as possible.”
“Would you mind holding on for just a moment?” Rafi asked. I agreed and the muffled sounds of discussion followed. “My uncle says he’ll drive me down tonight. We can stay with my grandmother if you think that’s safe and visit you in the morning.”
I looked at my watch. If they left right now, assuming there were no major tie-ups, they could be in Orchard View before it grew too late. “Rafi, may I speak to your uncle? I think it might be better for you to stay with my family. We’ve never met, but that means anyone who might be searching for you won’t expect to find you here.”
Rafi passed the phone to his Uncle Julio, and I explained again my connection to Stephen Laird and our plan to solve Rafi’s problem and Stephen’s in one fell swoop. uncle Julio was understandably wary until I heard Rafi remind him that we had Munchkin. He said, “If he’s staying with her, she’s okay. Stephen would never allow Munchkin to stay with anyone he didn’t trust.”
Uncle Julio told Rafi to pack a few clothes, but explained to me that he wanted to check in with Gabriela before he agreed to anything. I approved of his caution. While he phoned Gabriela, I called Nell, hoping we still had time to pull our plan together, get on the court calendar, and release Stephen from jail before the weekend.
Chapter 16
Everyone has clothing they seldom wear but must hang on to. In our area, both formal wear and ski clothing are worn only a few times a year.
I store ski clothing in well-marked bins in the garage, one bin for each family member. At the start of the season, we make sure everything fits and we’re not missing anything. The clothes remain in their bins and can be quickly packed for each trip.
Max and the boys each have one black suit they wear with black shoes and socks and a narrow assortment of ties and dress shirts. After each wearing, we make sure all the elements of the ensemble are clean and pressed and hang them carefully in a garment bag at the back of the closet where they’re ready for the next occasion.
From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald, Simplicity Itself Organizing Services
Thursday, February 23, Morning
Rafi and his uncle Julio arrived in the early hours of Thursday morning.
We had a few awkward moments as we all faced up to the fact that we’d made unusual plans on the spur of the moment with virtual strangers. Rafi’s safety and my family’s, along with Rafi’s future and Stephen’s, hung in the balance. I suspect we all had misgivings similar to those Max had voiced when I told him earlier that we’d be welcoming unexpected house guests.
“Have you met these people?” he’d asked, stopping in the process of packing a duffel with clothes for the ski trip.
“No, but talked to them over the phone. And Stephen trusts them. He went to jail for them, for Pete’s sake. You don’t do that for just anyone.”
“But you don’t have any way of verifying that the people you’ve spoken to on the phone are the same people Stephen told you about.”
I thought about that for a moment as Max went on. “In fact, your connection to them came through a homeless person.”
I sat down on the side of our bed. Not once had I thought that Gabriela or Rafi or Julio or Annie were anyone other than who I’d expected them to be. I trusted that they would help me solve Stephen’s problems and I’d counted on them to have the same confidence in me. But why? None of us were naive. Everyone except Rafi was a cautious, responsible adult with a family they needed to keep safe. Annie had more street smarts than I would ever acquire. So why did we automatically trust each other?
I shook my head in answer to Max’s question and his concern. “I hear what you’re saying. I agree that this whole situation is a little unconventional and it all happened very quickly. But it’s not Stephen and Annie who have vouched for these people; it’s Munchkin.”
Max looked at me as though I’d gone stark raving mad. “Seriously, Maggie? You want me to leave you here with strangers while I go skiing, even though you’ve been threatened? You’re telling me it’s safe because the world’s biggest dog has told you it’s going to be fine?”
I laughed quietly. “I admit it sounds nuts, but let me explain.”
I must have sounded sane enough, because Max sat on the bed across from me and listened as I outlined why I felt confident in my decision to invite Rafi and his uncle to our home.
“Stephen told me about Rafi and went to jail to protect him. I located Gabriela and Rafi through Annie, that’s true, but Annie knew Munchkin immediately. He’s a huge dog and often terrifies people, but Annie was completely comfortable with him. He can be a bit of a scaredy-cat in unfamiliar surroundings, but he was completely comfortable with Annie. He practically crawled into her lap. And Gabriela was horrified when she learned that Stephen was in jail. I don’t think the most brilliant actress could have played the role as convincingly as she did. They’re friends. And when Rafi wanted reassurance about me, he wanted to make sure I knew Munchkin.”
Max still looked skeptical and began unpacking his duffel bag. “The boys and I will stay. Just to make sure. We’ll keep them out of school, but we won’t go skiing.”
“Max, listen. The ski trip is the perfect plan. You need it and the boys need it. I would go with you if I possibly could. But I’ll be safe, I promise. Look, you’ll be here when Julio and Rafi arrive. They’re coming in Stephen’s car. He gave Rafi the keys without any qualms. And Julio asked all sorts of responsible questions before he agreed to bring Rafi down here. The same questions you or I would have asked. They’re good people and I’m confident they are who they say they are.”
“I’m not sure I completely agree with your logic, but I trust your judgment. I’d feel better if we had Stephen here. Or Jason.”
“I can call Paolo and ask him to join us for breakfast, or if he can come over now . . .”
Paolo hadn’t been able to join us, but he pulled some strings and sent us a DMV photo of a Julio Maldonado from Sacramento who had no police record and was the same age as Gabriela’s brother.
But by the time Max watched Julio and Rafi pull up to our front door in Stephen’s car, and heard Munchkin’s exuberant greeting of Rafi, he was ready to laugh along with Rafi and Julio when Munchkin nearly knocked Rafi over.
We still had those few awkward moments as we introduced ourselves, laid out the plans for the morning, and showed our guests to their suite in our remodeled attic. But the three boys became acquainted quickly. Rafi was visibly relieved to see Munchkin had healed so quickly from his injuries. And Julio gently grilled Max over the qualifications of the lawyer in whom he was entrusting his nephew’s future.
By the time we were all yawning our agreement that it was time for bed, we’d come to an unspoken understanding that while the situation was undoubtedly strange, we shared a concern for Rafi, Stephen, and Munchkin that bound us to one another for the time being, at least.
In the morning, Julio and Rafi helped Max and the boys pack their car, while I cleared the big dining room table to make room for everyone at breakfast.
It was easier for Max to follow through with the plans for the trip when we heard from Paolo that he’d picked up the b
oys who’d threatened David. They were spending the morning at the Orchard View Police Department where they couldn’t hurt any of us.
Max kissed me before he left. “You are going to feel so much better once you’ve got Stephen out of jail. Call or text me to let me know what happens.”
An overwhelming number of dominos were lined up in front of me. If any one of them were to fall in an unexpected manner, the whole series of events would fail to play out as planned. I reminded myself that the most I could control was the job right in front of me. I wished the guys a safe trip and waved them off, promising myself that we’d plan another getaway for an upcoming weekend.
Julio left shortly after Max and the boys to pick up Gabriela and all the documentation she’d pulled together for Rafi’s case.
Nell’s GPS system had let her down, and she called from a local Starbucks for directions. She pulled up about fifteen minutes later driving a tiny red Fiat, and climbed out of the car carrying a voluminous briefcase, the largest cup of coffee I’d ever seen, and a white paper bag of what I hoped were bakery treats to share.
Nell’s light brown hair streaked with blond highlights was up in a no-nonsense ponytail. She carried what she referred to as her “lawyer costume” in a dry-cleaner bag. “This casual gear won’t work for court,” she explained, referring to the pale-pink cotton sweater she wore over a collared shirt and black corduroy slacks. “Judges are more sympathetic to lawyers in suits.”
Nell knew dogs and greeted Munchkin appropriately, which won Rafi’s immediate trust. “What a gorgeous guy you are,” she told the dog. “If your manners are as beautiful as the rest of you, we’ll do fine. But I’ve got work to do if we’re going to get your buddy out of jail. Mess up my papers and you’re toast.”
“Sorry,” she said, standing to address me. “Let me start over. I’m Nell Bevans. You must be Mrs. McDonald and Rafi Maldonado.” We shook hands, leaning over Munchkin to do so. “Now that we’ve taken care of the formalities, let’s get going.” She handed Rafi the white paper bag. “Croissants,” she said. “For you to share and keep far away from me. I’ve already had two, which is probably two too many.” As Rafi thanked her, she turned to me and asked, “Where can I set up?”
I led her to the dining room, where I’d begun clearing the remains of our breakfast. Nell unpacked her computer and busied herself with detangling power cords. “Would you mind plugging this in, Rafi? Is there a printer I can connect to? Mrs. McDonald, do you have a Wi-Fi password you wouldn’t mind me using?”
Gabriela and Julio returned just as we’d finished reconfiguring the dining room from a breakfast area to a conference room. Following brief introductions, Nell stood at the table with her legs shoulder-length apart, hands clasped behind her back with the demeanor of a wartime general.
“We have until 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning to finish preparing our case. Our goal is to get Rafi a court order for the birth certificate he should have been awarded as a matter of course as an infant. It’s not fair. It shouldn’t be this difficult. But we don’t have time to change the world today. Most of the work will be mine. I’ll need each of you to help streamline the process and make sure that we have all the supporting documents in order. It will be slow and boring, but I need everyone to stay focused. After we get Rafi taken care of, we’ll attend to getting Mr. Stephen Laird out of jail. But first things first.”
Julio interrupted. “Ms. Bevans, I’m appreciate what you are trying to do, but my first priority is my nephew’s safety. Mr. Laird urged Rafi to stay away from the Bay Area to prevent him from being harassed, arrested, or deported. What assurances do we have that he’ll be safe here or at the courthouse?”
I was eager to hear Nell’s reassurances. She took a deep breath and her posture changed. Suddenly she looked more comforting than domineering. She directed her answer to Rafi, speaking softly but firmly. “Stephen advised you well. Part of the reason we want to do this quickly is to protect you. But whoever killed Mr. Xiang is still out there and we don’t know who those men were. They have no reason to look for you here, however. By tomorrow morning, you’ll be able to talk freely to the police and that will help them find the murderers and bring them in.”
“But what about the police?” Julio asked. “My nephew tells me that Mr. Laird feared that overzealous officers might move very quickly from questioning Julio to deporting him.”
“After he has his birth certificate, he can’t be removed, which is what we’re calling deportation these days. But Rafi’s case is on the court docket for 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. Even if the police tried to pick him up on the courthouse steps, they wouldn’t be able to take him in until after he sees the judge. An appointment with a judge always takes precedence.”
“But what if you can’t get the court order?”
“I’ll get the court order,” Nell said. “That’s my job. I love my job and I’m exceptionally good at it.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of us.
“But Rafi tells me that Stephen’s husband is a cop,” Julio said. “Will that be a problem?”
Rafi fed Munchkin bits of croissant under the table, but we all pretended not to notice. He turned his head from his uncle at one end of the table to Nell at the other like a fan at a tennis match.
“Jason is out of town at the moment and isn’t aware that Stephen is in jail,” I said. “Stephen has asked us to keep that news from him for now.”
“But why would he go to jail for Rafi?” Julio asked. “I love my nephew. He’s a good boy. I would go to jail for him, but I am his uncle.”
“You’ve not met Stephen Laird. He’s a fine man unlike any other. But I can’t speak for him. You’ll have to ask him yourself when you meet him.”
Julio nodded and put his hand over his heart. “And thank him.”
I smiled, momentarily overcome with emotion, realizing the impact of Stephen’s sacrifice.
“You need to know one more thing,” I said. “There is another police officer, Paolo Bianchi, who is a good friend to Stephen and to my family. You may not meet him while you’re with us, but I don’t want you to panic if he shows up or calls, or if his name is mentioned in conversation. You can trust him.”
Julio and Rafi exchanged a look. “Can we hear him say that?” Rafi asked.
“Of course.” I speed-dialed Paolo and put him on speaker. I outlined our plan and asked if it would create any conflicts for him.
“Not at all,” Paolo answered, speaking formally. “The Orchard View Police Department is not working any current cases with Mr. Maldonado. I understand Mountain View may be interested in him as a witness, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s committed no crime.
“Rafi, are you there?” he added.
“Hello, Officer Bianchi. This is Rafi.”
“Okay, buddy. Look, I get that you’re scared. That was a terrible night for all of you. Are you worried that the guys who killed Mr. Xiang will come after you?”
Rafi blushed and looked around the room before lowering his voice and whispering, “Yeah, I am.”
“Okay, that’s cool. You’re right to be scared. They’re nasty guys. But you’ll be safe at Maggie’s and as soon as Nell has set things up with the judge, you’ll head straight to the courthouse. That place is super secure, with guards and metal detectors everywhere you look and some places you wouldn’t think to look. And it’s not like anyone wants to arrest you anyway. The detective from Mountain View just wants to interview you. Stephen would like you to talk to them too, so you can get him out of jail. That’s always been the play, right?”
Rafi relaxed and spoke in a normal voice. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Okay then, any other questions?”
Rafi shook his head as though Paolo could see him through the phone.
Julio smiled and said, “Thanks, officer. This is Rafi’s uncle Julio Maldonado. I think we have everything we need.”
I took my phone off speaker. “We’ll let you go, Paolo. Thanks. You handled that ju
st like Jason would have.”
Paolo was silent at first and when he finally answered, the confident young officer I’d heard reassure Rafi moments before was gone. I’d flustered him with my compliment. “Ah. Hm. Thanks, Maggie. See ya later, okay?”
I ended the call and Nell cleared her throat. “If there are no more questions, let’s get back to work. Maggie, can you check the clothes Rafi brought and make sure they’re appropriate for court?”
Rafi looked a little insulted, so I jumped in. “That’s code for ‘Get out of here, you can’t help us with the documentation.’ Come on upstairs. We’ll take Munchkin with us. I need to make sure my own clothes are pressed and ready.”
While I waited for Rafi to get up from the table and convince Munchkin to wake up from a deep snooze, Gabriela rummaged in her bag and pulled out a file folder with the papers and photos she’d collected documenting Rafi’s birth and childhood in Mountain View.
“Thanks for bringing those; that’s perfect,” Nell said, taking the folder. “I want to go through it all in order. That way, I won’t forget anything and we’ll have it all in the same sequence the court will request them. We want to make it easy for the judge to give us the paperwork Rafi needs. And difficult to find a reason to delay or send us away.”
Chapter 17
Pantry storage.
I tackle pantry storage in the fall when there are food donation boxes in the library, gym, schools, and grocery stores.
1) Toss healthy food that tastes terrible. If no one eats it, it doesn’t matter that it’s healthy; it’s just gathering dust (or worse, critters you don’t want in your cupboards).
2) Toss or donate everything your family once liked but stopped eating as soon as you bought it in bulk.
