A Soldier’s Family Page 12

  He stepped forward using his crutches. “Do you know where your son is?”

  Celia stepped back at the menacing tone. “I—I—He—We—Why?”

  Manny took another step forward, putting him inside Celia’s door. “His first victim was a street sign. My scooter was second on the list. And Joel’s brand-new vinyl fence definitely didn’t make it.” Manny clenched and unclenched his fists in tempo with his jaw. His skin glistened with beads of moisture that trailed down his brown neck.

  “Wh-what? What do you mean?” Celia fiddled with buttons at her throat. She needed air. Quick.

  Manny gave her open door a curt nod. “See for yourself.”

  Celia followed him onto the porch. He pointed at the tangled vehicles that now resembled a tossed glass-and-metal salad near the Montgomerys’ home at the end of the block. The smell of oil and gasoline dominated the air. Manny’s scooter lay in pieces. Her car sat cockeyed in a pile of excavated grass.

  Her heart clunked to her feet. The flower beds Amber worked so hard to maintain, mangled to death.

  Just like her son was going to be the next time she laid eyes on him. If he didn’t mangle himself first.

  A closer glance into the vehicle revealed an empty seat. The way the door hung open, Javier had obviously fled on foot, probably into the nearby woods. Her son had wrecked her one and only vehicle, not to mention Manny’s very expensive scooter and the Montgomerys’ fence. Sirens whined in the distance. Or maybe they were close and she was on the verge of passing out so they just seemed far away.

  Her world spun. She rested a hand on her porch rail for support. Celia stared at the wreck, feeling the heat of Manny’s glare on her. What could she do? What could she say?

  According to the livid look on his face? Nothing that would make a difference.

  Her body felt frozen, her mouth catatonic. Of all the people her teenage son could have plowed into…it had to be him. The man who liked her least and annoyed her most.

  Manny shifted his weight to place one hand on his lean hip. “Well?”

  Celia swallowed past the stricture in her throat. “We’ll pay for the damage. I’m very sorry.” The last words wobbled out, her voice fractured. Tears stung.

  “We’ll? We’ll pay?” Manny clenched his jaw.

  “Me. I will.” Obviously he thought it if were left up to Javier, he’d never get his money. Or maybe he didn’t think that at all, judging by frustration burgeoning on his face.

  Despicable, traitorous tears welled in her eyes. Celia thought compassion flickered on and off behind the angry smokescreen in Manny’s, which seemed suddenly darker. Lethal black, in fact. She knew she wasn’t imagining it when his rigid stance relaxed.

  It lasted three seconds before he turned to stone again.

  He stepped nose-to-nose with her. “If you take care of this for him, he’ll never learn his lesson.” His challenging tone and pointed gaze dared her to argue.

  She lifted her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His eyes narrowed into slats. “As I said before, you’re way too easy on him discipline-wise. You stifle his more noble strengths, then wonder why he does what he does. You need to lighten up where it doesn’t matter and tighten up where it does.”

  Just where did he get off? Her anger notched up defensively. “How dare you give me advice on raising my kid when you don’t have any of your—Oh!” Celia clamped hands over her mouth the second she remembered. Too late.

  Claws of dread clutched her shoulders.

  Manny stiffened as if he’d been shot. He stared at her mouth as if white phosphorous, which incinerated everything within a thousand-foot radius, spewed from it. The profound hurt that flashed over his face lanced her heart with sincere regret. Remorse pushed Celia forward to place a hand on his forearm. He stepped back. Rage simmered in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, glaring deeply, signaling it was not okay to get close. Not okay what she said. Not okay. Period.

  “I—Manny—I’m so sorry. That was a horrible thing for me to say.” She swallowed, voice warbling. “I know that you had a son because Joel told me about the drowning that led to your divorce and subsequently your wife’s overdose—”

  His hand halted her words. “Save it.” His tone remained menacing, his glare icy. He turned to leave. She feared the hand rungs on his crutches would splinter the way he gripped them with white-knuckled fists.

  Celia watched his retreat, desperate to make amends. She waved her arms and hurried after Manny. “Wait!”

  Please don’t go. Don’t leave mad. Joseph left mad and never came home.

  “Wait! Manny! Wait. Please.” She grasped for his back.

  He half turned his torso…out of her reach. Her mind reeled, clamored, clawed for something substantial to say. Anything to keep him here, make him talk. Keep him safe. What could she say? What could she say to make him stay?

  She swallowed bile. “What…what about the accident?” Her lips trembled but there was no help for it.

  “What about it?” He tossed the angry, despondent words over his shoulder and stalked away, leaving her to stare first at his retreating back. Then into the shattered windshield of her car, and to wonder where her son had run off to.

  Her husband had died because the only person who could help him left the crime scene. And her son had just fled the scene of an accident. She’d raised him to ruin. Now she’d irrevocably shattered her friendship with Manny.

  “What have I done?” Celia breathed the prayer, dreading the answer. She knew exactly what. Open mouth—insert shoe store.

  She’d unleashed lethal words, wounding another human being.

  Again.

  She’d pounded another mallet into the already-present wedge between her and the only man her son had looked up to since his father died. She slid to the curb.

  She swallowed back a sob and dropped her chin to her chest. “God, I’m sorry. Half my sin would cease if I’d super-glue my mouth shut. I am acutely ashamed of myself. Manny doesn’t know You as well as I do. It’s going to take a miracle to get him to forgive me. Please, help me learn to control my tongue if it’s the last thing I do.”

  When police arrived, Celia stood and filled out reports in a half daze while officers scoured the neighborhood woods for Javier.

  Her son. The fugitive.

  About ten minutes later, Manny ambled back up on his crutches and filled out his part of the report, never once looking at her. The stubborn set to his jaw told her what she didn’t want to know. He’d retained his fury.

  When the officers asked if he wanted to press charges, Manny looked briefly at Celia. “I’ll talk it over with his mother and get back with you.” Disdain coated his words.

  The police left to help search for Javier, and Celia lowered herself to the steps. Manny towered over her. Or it seemed so until she looked up and saw something other than rage in his face. What, she couldn’t be sure. Pity? How she’d hate that. As if sensing her unease, he raised up, putting space between them. The hover of silence unnerved her.

  She chanced a peek at him. “What are you going to do?” It came out like a croak.

  “Depends on you.” His stance softened, but deep hurt still abided in his eyes.

  How she wished she could rewind time and snatch back her earlier words. Story of her life. It was clear he beat himself up enough over his son’s death without having someone rub his nose in it.

  She fought to keep her voice from quavering. “Obviously you have some idea of how this should go.” She licked her lips, dry from anxiety of how she was going to pay for the fence and that scooter. She knew that brand ran several thousand dollars, and couldn’t afford her insurance premiums to go up.

  “I want you to agree to let him work for me and Joel to pay it off. Promise me you won’t bail him out. Not even a dime. In turn, we won’t press charges for damages.”

  “Okay.” What choice did she have? Manny was being more than fair. She doubted the officers would make a permanent sta
in on Javier’s record, either. They’d scare him to death and make him think so, but out of respect for their former colleague, they’d have mercy, even when Javier didn’t deserve it.

  Like her Heavenly Father.

  Her phone chimed. She flipped it open without looking, figuring it had to be Amber asking for an update and assuring Celia they were on their way. She was surprised to hear the police chief’s voice. “He turned himself in.”

  “He’s there?” Celia heaved a sigh of relief.

  “And quaking in his shoes.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as Amber comes to give me a ride.”

  The police chief asked her to give them a chance to make Javier sweat first. She agreed, then hung up the phone and looked up at Manny. “He turned himself in.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should go easy on him.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I know.”

  Manny’s stance relaxed. At least his legs. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye again.

  “You ought to make him pay for damages on the car, too. Probably all it’ll need is a new bumper and a windshield. I doubt all that would cost more than your deductible and subsequent raise in premiums, especially with his age. Another thing, you should teach him to wear seat belts.”

  “I do.” Celia forced her voice to stay humble. She stuffed clenched fists beneath her thighs. She ached to tell Manny that she hadn’t given Javier permission to drive the stupid vehicle in the first place, but subdued the urge. What would that solve? To admit Javier took off sans permission wouldn’t make her look much better.

  Why did she care what Manny thought anyway? What did she care? Unfortunately, a lot. And that scared her.

  A lot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Manny couldn’t believe this was the same kid. Javier had far exceeded their deal. He’d accomplished everything on Manny’s daily work lists and had voluntarily surrendered money he’d been saving for a car of his own. Not to mention Joel appreciated the help with home-improvement projects so he could spend more time with Amber and Bradley and getting the Drop Zone shaped up.

  A horn sounded outside. Javier peered out the window. “Mom’s here. I finished all the gutters. I’ll be back after dinner to rake the yard.”

  “You’re doing a great job working off your debt, Javier.”

  For the first time in two weeks, he met Manny’s gaze. The look of genuine remorse in Javier’s eyes tugged at Manny’s heart. The initial humiliation of having a verbal lashing from his father’s former coworkers at the police department the day he’d taken the car, and the last two weeks of working for Manny and Joel had humbled Javier.

  Manny wondered if he’d been behaving better at home. He wouldn’t know because Celia had been steering a wide berth around him. And rightfully so. He’d been a complete jerk. He really should apologize, but she avoided him at every turn.

  He missed her.

  “Hang on. I’ll walk out with you.” Manny grabbed his crutch and followed Javier off the porch.

  Celia didn’t notice his presence until Javier opened the car’s passenger side. She must have recently gotten it back from the repair shop because she’d been driving a car with rental tags before today.

  Not that he’d noticed.

  “I see you’re down to three legs instead of four. I’m glad for you.” Celia eyed the one crutch Manny leaned on but avoided his direct gaze. He didn’t miss the flush up her neck.

  “Yeah, thanks. Doc says the bone graft took. Everything’s fusing back together and healing faster than normal.”

  “I’ve been praying for you.” She stared out the windshield and kept her hands plastered to the wheel though the car was off. Humility in her tone spurred him to want to say something else. Something to assure her he didn’t hold Javier’s actions against her. Or the fact that she’d wounded him by speaking before thinking. He knew she struggled with that. Maybe he’d overreacted.

  Manny leaned in. “Call me later, Celia?”

  A startled look crossed her face, and Javier grew tense with concern. “Did I not do a good job?” he asked.

  Manny could see in Javier’s eyes that he longed for Manny to like him. To approve of his hard work. “You did more than fine, Javier. You did excellent. This is something between your mom and me that has nothing to do with you.”

  Javier looked from one to the other, then shrugged. “Okay. See you in an hour or so. After I clean up the dishes.”

  Manny eyed Celia.

  She lifted her shoulders and cast a grin Javier’s way. “I’ve been making him work to pay off the windshield and the bumper. You were right. It ended up being best not to turn in an insurance claim. Thanks for the advice.”

  Manny nodded, then eyed Javier. “Since it’s Saturday, I think I’ll roast marshmallows on some of that wood you chopped and stacked yesterday. If it’s all right with her, you can hang around after you finish the chore lists your mother and I made for today.”

  Your mother and I.

  Something painful flickered across Celia’s face with the phrase, causing Manny to realize it sounded too cozy, too much like family.

  Javier looked to her, near pleading in his eyes. Manny hoped he hadn’t crossed a maternal bound. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t. I’m still grounded.”

  Celia tapped her lip with a finger. “That’s fine as long as you come straight home by ten.”

  Manny shifted his crutch and gave Celia a pensive grin. “You’re welcome to stay when you drop him off. I make a mean s’more.”

  Celia eyed him beneath those long lashes. He still wondered if they were real. “I have things to do tonight, but thanks for the invite.”

  “No problem. If you change your mind, the invitation still stands.” Manny hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. Truth was, loneliness and boredom were eating away at him. Dark-paneled wood in the Montgomery home, and the days getting darker sooner didn’t help.

  He stepped away so Javier could shut the car door.

  Manny watched them until brake lights disappeared beneath her lowering garage door. Since their latest blowout, Manny had been feeling out of sorts. Unsettled. Discontented. Not until he’d heard Celia’s voice did he realize how much he’d missed her.

  “I don’t know what to make of that, Lord. She’s the hardest person to get along with, and the hardest person to get along without. Please help me sort out these confusing feelings.”

  Manny knew from talking to Joel about his attraction to Celia that she remained dead set against dating men in dangerous jobs. He definitely fit that description, yet he was pretty sure the attraction ran both ways. A female DZ employee had asked Joel for Manny’s number and voiced interest in him one day after Manny’d gone to the DZ with Joel. She reminded Manny of the type of girl who stalked the team at nightclubs when they found out the guys were a band of soldiers. Like camouflage groupies or something. Sure, the girl was pretty. Gorgeous by society’s standards. But they weren’t his standards.

  And she wasn’t Celia.

  Manny fingered the phone number. What would one date hurt? Maybe companionship could dispel some of his discontent. He eyed the lone light in Celia’s living-room window. He imagined her curled up with lesson plans beside the crackling fire. The cat she tried so hard to pretend to hate curled up on her legs like he’d see sometimes when he’d go for evening walks and she’d wave at him through the glass.

  Having second thoughts, Manny squished the paper and tossed it in the refuse pile, mentally declining. If Celia ever changed her mind about dating danger, Manny didn’t want to be involved with someone else. He meandered back into the empty house and set out an extra hot cocoa cup beside the two already stationed on the counter.

  Just in case she changed her mind.

  As bad as she missed Manny, Celia opted not to go to the marshmallow roast. Amber wasn’t home because Bradley had wanted to fish at her parents’ pond over the weekend.

  Celia wasn’t ready to face Manny at le
ngth after the profound hurt he’d suffered at her thoughtless, devastating words. Maybe he and Javier needed male bonding time anyway, to heal their relationship. It had become vitally important to Celia for that to happen. She’d prayed for it for two solid weeks.

  The change in Javier had been astounding. She didn’t know how Manny did it, but when her son spent any amount of time with the guy, Javier practically turned into a saint. He’d been steadily working off damages, then kept helping around the house without being asked. He’d been polite and courteous, and she hadn’t had one complaint from his teachers.

  The disconcerting thing was she noticed an obsession with Special Forces. When Javier had his TV and computer time reinstated, he’d utilized every minute of the privilege to live on the Military Channel or the Pentagon station. He’d also been researching pararescue jumpers online.

  Celia felt as if a double standard warred within her. She wanted Manny’s influence over her son’s life as long as it suited her. It was obvious Manny kept her kid out of trouble, or at least kept him from wanting to get into trouble. But Javier’s interest in becoming a soldier grew like a weed on steroids the more time he spent with Manny.

  Then came the whole startling revelation that she missed Manny. Sure, she’d missed Manny’s influence in Javier’s life, but she’d missed their brief exchanges more than she cared to admit.

  Celia put her face in her hands and groaned.

  Organizing something would make her feel better. After tackling her rolltop desk, Celia organized her shoe closets, but memories of Manny still chased her through the house. She went to her living room, pulled the curtain aside. She could see half of the Montgomery yard from here.

  She sighed with companionable longing and missing.

  She pressed her hand to the glass, the doorstep at her fingertips. Why couldn’t she just walk down there and face him? Because she might see in his eyes that he cared about her as much as she cared about him. Or that he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. That would make her want to toss her fears out caution’s window and take another chance on love.