by Cheryl Wyatt
Blinking back tears, Celia stayed put to catch her breath. She wanted to be happy for Javier, she really did. She eyed the parachute and jump paraphernalia with a mixture of awe and dread.
She brushed quaking fingers over each item. “Where will you take my son? Huh? On valiant rescues? To foreign soil? To drop over the ocean? As long as you don’t take him away from me forever, you’re a keeper.”
“You talking to the chute, or me?” Manny stood in the doorway. He’d gone days without any device to help him walk.
She gulped down a sob. “I think maybe I’m talking to both of you.”
He stepped toward her. “I know how hard this is for you. I’ll teach him right, Celia. His safety is my utmost priority. No theatrics or showmanship will happen on my watch. Okay?”
“No fancy tricks like I see at the Refuge air shows?”
“Not for a few years. Maybe after several thousand jumps he can get a little fancy.” Manny grinned. “Something coming from the oven smells mighty good.”
“You inviting yourself for dinner?”
He rubbed his belly, impossibly flat despite the massive amounts of food the guy could put away. “I guess I am.”
She grinned and made a move toward the top of the stairs but he didn’t budge.
“You’re blocking my way.”
“I guess I am.”
Celia’s heart pounded as his arms unfolded to her. She stepped into his embrace. One intense look from the depths of inky eyes and she knew without a doubt he was going to kiss her.
And she was going to let him.
He relaxed his hold and tilted his face, as if giving her one last chance to step from his arms. She was tired of fighting this. She drifted toward him.
The moment his embrace tightened and his mouth closed over hers, she melted like her face cream in the sun. The reverence in his soft kiss swept every shred of anxiety away. After a few breathtaking seconds, he ended the sweet kiss, but held her close. How she missed the comfort of his touch.
Muffled “Yucks!” came from somewhere downstairs. Javier must have seen.
“Where do we go from here?” His warm breath whispered against her cheek.
She wasn’t ready to voice any kind of commitment. She needed to think this through. “Right now, we’re going downstairs and you’re helping me cut the onions.”
A soft laugh rumbled from his chest. “And later?”
Celia knew he didn’t mean today, but in the future. “Later will take care of itself. We’ll see when we get there. Let’s go. Last one is a rotten egg.”
Manny slid around her and bounded downstairs as if he’d never been hurt. That should have made her feel better for him, but instead it struck fear in her heart. He was much, much better. Maybe even totally healed.
Which meant he’d be right back to his dangerous job, possibly in a matter of days.
She closed her eyes. “Perfect Love, cast out this fear. I don’t want to live with it anymore and I’m sure You have better plans than to let it rule me.” Celia padded downstairs.
Electronic sounds bleeped and blinged from the family room where the boys gave the video game controllers a workout. Manny helped Celia prepare dinner. She brought the boys’ plates to them since they were intent on going without food to get to the next level of the game.
Celia spooned enchilada pie onto Manny’s plate and hers then sat across from him. Garlic and Mexican spices permeated the air. Red sauce and grilled onions spilled from hamburger and corn tortillas as he pressed his fork into the meal. “I wanted to leave my truck for Javier to drive once I return to my team.”
Celia’s appetite flew the coop. She set her fork down. His halted halfway to his mouth before he took a bite and studied her while chewing.
“Which could be any day?”
He nodded an affirmative. Javier and Enrique brought their plates to the table and sat for their second helping.
Dark brown soda fizz domed the tops of fluted glasses as Javier refilled everyone’s drinks with a two-liter bottle. “So we’re all headed to church tomorrow, right?”
Celia kicked him under the table. He yowled like Psych when she ran out of tuna. She’d hoped Manny wouldn’t remember. She didn’t have to look up to know his gaze pinned her. No getting out of it this time. She’d lost the checker match, and the rematch.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Manny scooted into a soft-back seat beside Celia as church announcements started.
She leaned in. “You’re tardy.”
Manny smiled. “You’re here.”
She pointed a discreet finger a few rows up. “So’s Javier. Sitting with Enrique. That’s his mother and sister beside him.”
“They all came?” Manny settled his elbow against hers.
She didn’t move hers away. “Looks like.”
He ran a hand over his tan dress slacks. “Must be hard to face your husband’s killer’s family, Celia,” he whispered.
She tilted her head. “Not as hard as in the beginning.”
They settled into respectable silence as the service began. Beside him, Celia’s voice joined in song. Self-consciousness melted off him in sheets.
He was really glad to know she sang as badly as he did.
The pastor announced the Bible text he’d be preaching on. Half the people in Manny’s row snickered and eyed him. Interest piqued, Manny flipped until he found the passage in Genesis.
A grin overtook his mouth.
“I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
Jacob. Who’d wrestled with God and limped away from the scuffle with a broken hip.
It figured. Manny hoped God would speak to Celia today, but it looked like the barrel of God’s word was aimed at him instead. He’d heard it debated it could have been an angel who wrestled with Jacob instead of God. Either way, the Scripture implied the divine perpetrator outclassed Jacob in the weight and strength department by supernatural proportions.
As the pastor recanted the story, Manny refused to look at Joel. Or Amber. Or Celia. If he did, he’d surely bust out laughing and get bounced from the place.
Well, maybe churches didn’t have bouncers like pubs did, but he didn’t want to cause disrespect.
Maybe the message was pure coincidence, because Manny had no clue what he’d been arguing with God about when he crashed. In fact, he’d just given his life over to Him weeks before the accident.
I gave life. Not guilt.
The words seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, impacting him so hard he bent forward and rested his forehead on the back of the seat in front of him.
Though he still listened to the message in the back of his mind as the pastor continued teaching, Manny initiated a conversation with God.
“If anyone knows what it’s like to lose a son, You do. He came to give me life. I don’t want to fight You on anything. I want to be completely yielded. If You’re trying to help me let go of this guilt over Seth’s death, believe me, I’m all up for giving it,” Manny whispered.
He hoped God wanted to wrestle it from him. That would be a blessing, not a struggle, and something he’d gladly turn over. Manny thought he had to atone for the horrible actions by holding on to it and punishing himself. The possibility that God had freedom in store brought a profound measure of relief.
“Show me in a way that I know for sure, so I can’t doubt You on this.”
The pastor’s words moved to the forefront of Manny’s mind now, drawing his attention back to the message. He lifted his face to peer at the pulpit, tuning his ears and heart to the words, and knew without a doubt God was using the man to speak directly to him.
“If there’s anything you’re holding back from God, open your hands and give it to Him today.” The pastor, whose voice reminded Manny of television’s Dr. Phil, chuckled. “How many of us know how much harder it hurts if God has to force our hands open and pry it loose from us. Whatever it is, open your hands and heart to God today.”
As the service e
nded, Manny weaved through the crowd to find Enrique and his family. Showing up today took a tremendous amount of courage on their part, especially since Joseph had attended this church.
Manny shook their hands and told them how much he admired them for coming, when Celia approached. She grasped Enrique’s mother’s hands tightly in hers. Both women’s eyes filled with tears. Manny experienced a burn behind his own eyes as Celia opened her mouth.
“I’m glad you came today. I’m glad I came. God wrestled bitterness from my heart. I do not hold you responsible for your husband’s actions. I’m working on forgiving him. That’s gonna take a little more time, but I refuse to clench my heart around something as vile and destructive as unforgiveness.”
Tears dripped off Trina’s gaunt face and she squeezed Celia’s hands in return. “Thank you.” Overcome with emotion, she nodded to Enrique and they moved for the door like jet fighters off a runway.
Manny hated that they wanted to leave so soon. He felt like he was witnessing a miracle when several parishioners, including two police officers, intercepted her exit. Expressions warm, they shook her hand and tousled Enrique’s hair, no doubt trying to make them feel welcome here. Manny knew the officers had worked with Joseph because they were the ones who’d nearly handcuffed him for following Celia to the cemetery that night.
Manny went to find Javier, who’d followed Enrique outside. Amber and Celia flocked from the restroom like a gaggle of geese.
As they moved to the foyer, Joel’s and Manny’s cells, in silent mode for church, vibrated in sync. Celia met and held Amber’s gaze. Bradley held his mom’s hand. Joel no more than hung up with C.O. Petrowski when other teammates phoned to say they’d received their pages. Joel relayed that a “situation of national importance” had come up, putting the team on standby for deployment.
Including Manny.
While Manny rode to the store with Joel after church, Celia kept her mind busy by pulling Christmas decorations from the basement. She called Javier to help drag them out.
A box slid across the floor with Celia’s muscle behind it. “I’d really hoped Manny would get to put our tree up with us.”
Javier tugged his end of the box. “Me, too.”
“Hey, I wondered where this went.” Celia brushed an army of dust bunnies off her craft stool and sat. Javier spun her around like a child on a playground toy.
“Think you and Manny will get married, Mom?”
Celia nearly aspirated her gum. Her feet dropped. The stool screeched to a stop. She spun it around so fast to face Javier she nearly tipped herself over in the process. Psych yowled and hissed at her when the wheel ran over his tail.
She stood on trembling legs. “What makes you ask that?”
“I’m your son, so I should be among the first to know if you are. Besides, I’m not dumb.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“Then why can’t you talk to me honestly like an adult?”
You have a choice. Trust him.
“Because, I’m not ready for you to mature. But it looks as though you have despite my best efforts to keep you in diapers.”
Javier stepped down and squeezed her shoulders in a grip that felt more like a man’s than a child’s. Like it or not, he was growing up, and so fast it made her curls spin.
“You’re a little overprotective maybe. I know it’s because you love me, and because of Dad dying the way he did.”
“Okay, I’ll be honest. I like Manny.”
Javier’s brows lifted. “Just like?”
She groaned. The kid was too smart for his own good. “What do you know about love anyway?”
“I know enough to see it in your eyes every time you look at Manny, just like I saw it every time you looked at Dad and Dad looked at you. The only difference is, Manny looks at you like that whether you know it or not, but you only look at him like that when you think he’s not looking.”
Apparently her son knew plenty.
He tousled her hair. “And I know enough about love to understand that’s why you set limits with me even though I hate it sometimes. So be real with me. What’s the scoop?”
“Fine. I admit it. I like Manny a lot.”
“He likes you a lot, too,” Javier playfully mocked. “In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you.”
Love? Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy. “How does that make you feel, Javier?”
Him? How did it make her feel? Scared spitless.
“Weird, but in a good way. All except that whole kissing on the stairs thing. I could have done without seeing that. It grossed me out when you kissed Dad, too, though.”
“We’ll be more discreet next time.”
“I know Manny would never try to replace Dad, and it would be the coolest thing to have him as a stepdad. But you have to do what’s right for you, Mom. Not what’s right for me, or even what’s right for Manny.”
“He doesn’t feel worthy of another family.” She pulled the lid off the box.
“So don’t jump in just because you feel sorry for him.” Javier pulled an ornament out that he’d made in grade school.
“I don’t feel sorry for him. How did you get to be so smart, huh?”
Javier smirked. “Definitely Dad.”
She ruffled the hair on his head.
He snickered. “Now, if you’d asked where I got to be so smart-alecky, I could give you all the credit.”
“Ha, ha. You’re the one who needs smart-aleck repellant.”
Javier draped an arm around her. “C’mon, Mom, quit changing the subject. Why can’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you love Manny Péna.”
“What? I do not.” She tried to sound incredulous but she suddenly felt like an overblown balloon and Javier’s words the pin prick.
“It’ll make you feel better to get it out. Say the words.”
“Javier, I just can’t. Not yet.” As though keeping it in would make it not so.
“Try the chalkboard method then. Maybe it’ll be easier to say if you write it a bunch of times first, admit to yourself how you really feel.”
He had a point. It did work with her students. Worth a try.
Celia picked up the chalk and began a row of sentences.
I love him.
I love Manny.
I love Manny Péna.
I love Manny Péna and I think he loves me.
I love Manny Péna and I think he loves me, and Javier approves.
White letters streamed across black slate. She added a border of hearts.
“’Lo, anybody home?” Heavy steps creaked down the stairs.
Celia shrieked and flung herself over the chalkboard.
Manny appeared around the corner, his eyes scoping out the scene. He zeroed in on her hand still holding chalk. He watched it hit the floor, break, then eyed the hands she stuffed behind her back. “I knocked first but no one answered.” He peered around her to the blackboard with interest. “You’re getting chalk all over your back. What are you guys doing?”
“Oh, you know. Stuff.” Celia brushed herself across the board, becoming a human eraser.
Oh, God, don’t let him see it.
He stepped closer to the chalkboard, his eyes scanning around her.
Oh, God, he’s seeing it.
Manny bent, peered beneath her arm, then jerked his head to peer at her. His eyes grew luminous and a huge grin broke forth, like rising sun after a long, dark night.
“What?” She sounded flustered to her own ears.
“Step away from the chalkboard, ma’am. That’s an order.” He tugged her arms.
She resisted and evaded. “I will not.”
Javier grabbed her and pulled.
“Traitor!” she yelped, gasped and scrambled back, trying to fling her body over the remaining words.
“I love Manny Péna?” Manny eyed her and Javier. “Which one of you wrote this?”
They both pointed at the other. Celia’s chee
ks scorched.
“Actually, both. Sorta.” Javier grinned. “I mean, she wrote it but I made her.”
Manny took slow steps toward her. Wondrous hope twinkled then flared in his eyes. “Do you mean it, Cel? Do you?”
Javier brushed past them. “I’m outta here. Last thing I want to see is my mother sucking face again. Yuck.” He bounded up the stairs, leaving Celia alone with Manny and her telltale chalkboard.
“That’s it. I’m taking all his Christmas presents back.” Celia stuffed her forehead against her palms. Could she just disappear now?
“Why? He gave us the best gift of all.”
She lifted her head.
“The ability to see the truth and the opportunity to admit it to ourselves and each other.”
“What, that I love you?”
Manny walked to the chalkboard, picked up chalk and wrote.
I love Celia Munez.
I think Celia Munez loves Psych even if she pretends she doesn’t.
I love Javier like a son.
I think Celia Munez loves me even though she’s scared to.
I think Javier would love a dangerous stepfather.
I think Psych wants to adopt me.
I have unending supplies of hugs, tuna and marshmallows.
Celia snatched the chalk, slashed through the e on marshmallow, added an a above it and scrawled an “A-” grade on Manny’s “work.”
A snicker brought him to her arms. “You’re crazy.”
“About you.” He pulled her close and nuzzled her forehead.
Celia eyed him through her lashes. “So…”
“So, I have a bag of lonely marshmallows in need of homemade cocoa. I’m thinking they make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“We talking teamwork for life, or what?”
“Definitely in it for the long haul.”
She sighed and rested her forehead on his chin.
He bent and planted a tender kiss on her freckle. “Don’t answer me yet. Just think about it a little and pray about it a lot. We can talk more about it when I get back.”
She lifted her face. “When you—” She gulped. He was going. Really, really going.
