'Juanita,' Miles Eastin said, 'there's nothing to be frightened about for you or your little girl. I've nothing with me except this.' He held up a small battered suitcase. It's just the things they gave me back when I came out.'
'Well…' Juanita wavered Despite her misgivings, her curiosity was strong. Why did Miles want to see her? Wondering if she would regret it, she closed the door slightly and released the chain.
'Thank you.' He came in tentatively, as if even now he feared Juanita might change her mind. 'Hullo,”Estela said, 'are you my mommy's friend?'
For a moment Eastin seemed disconcerted, then he answered, 'I wasn't always. I wish I had been.'
The small, dark-haired child regarded him. 'What's your name?' 'Miles.' Estela giggled. 'You're a thin man.' 'Yes, I know.'
Now that he was fully in view, Juanita was even more startled by the change in Miles. In the eight months since she had seen him, he had lost so much weight that his cheeks were sunken, his neck and body scrawny. His crumpled suit hung loosely, as if tailored for someone twice his size. He looked tired and weak. 'May I sit down?'
'Yes.' Juanita motioned to a wicker chair, though she continued to stand, facing him. She said, illogically accusing, 'You did not eat well in prison.'
He shook his head, for the first time smiling slightly. 'It isn't exactly gourmet living. I suppose it shows.' 'It shows.'
Estela asked, 'Have you come for dinner? It's a pie mommy made.' He hesitated. 'No.' Juanita said sharply, 'Did you eat today?'
'This morning. I had something at the bus station.' The aroma of the almost-cooked pie was wafting from the kitchen. Instinctively Miles turned his head.
'Then you will join us.' She began setting another place at the small table where she and Estela took their meals. The action came naturally. In any Puerto Rican home even the poorest tradition demanded that whatever food was available be shared.
As they ate, Estela chattered, and Miles responded to her questions; some of the earlier tension began visibly to leave him. Several times he looked around at the simply furnished but pleasant apartment. Juanita had a flair for homemaking. She loved to sew and decorate. In the modest living room was an old, used sofa bed she had slip covered with a cotton material, brightly patterned in white, red, and yellow. The wicker chair which Miles had sat in earlier was one of two she had bought cheaply and repainted in Chinese red. For the windows she had created simple, inexpensive draperies of bright yellow bark cloth. A primitive painting and some travel posters adorned the walls.
Juanita listened to the other two but said little, within herself still doubtful and suspicion. Why had Miles really come? Would he cause her as much trouble as he had before? Experience warned her that he might. Yet at the moment he seemed harmless certainly weak physically, a little frightened, possibly defeated. Juanita had the practical wisdom to recognize those symptoms.
What she did not feel was antagonism. Though Miles had tried to have her blamed for the theft of money he himself had stolen, time had' made his treachery remote. Even originally, when he was exposed, her principal feeling had been relief, not hate. Now, all Juanita wanted for herself and Estela was to be left alone.
Miles Eastin sighed as he pushed away his plate. He had left nothing on it. 'Thank you. That was the best meal in quite some time.' Juanita asked, 'What are you going to do?'
'I don't know. Tomorrow I'll start looking for a job.' He took a deep breath and seemed about to say something else, but she motioned. him to wait. 'Estelita, vamps, amorcito. Bedtimel'
Soon after, washed, her hair brushed, and wearing tiny pink pajamas, Estela came to say good night. Large liquid eyes regarded Miles gravely. 'My daddy went away. Are you going away?' 'Yes, very soon.'
'That's what I thought.' She put up her face to be kissed.
When she had tucked in Estela, Juanita came out of the apartment's single bedroom, closing the door behind her. She sat down facing Miles, hands folded in her lap. 'So. You may talk.'
He hesitated, moistening his lips. Now that the moment had arrived he seemed irresolute, bereft of words. Then he said, 'All this time since I was… put away… I've been wanting to say I'm sorry. Sorry for everything I did, but mostly for what I did to you. I'm ashamed. In one way I don't know how it happened. In another I think I do..”,
Juanita shrugged. 'What happened is gone. Does it matter now?'
'It matters to me. Please, Juanita let me tell you the rest, the way it was.'
Then, like a gusher uncapped, words flooded out. He spoke of his awakened conscience, and remorse, of last year's insanity of gambling and debts, and how they had possessed him like a fever which distorted moral values and perception. Looking back, he told Juanita, it seemed as if someone else had inhabited his mind and body. He proclaimed his guilt at stealing from the bank. But worst of all he avowed, was what he had done to her, or tried to. His shame about that, he declared emotionally, had haunted him through every day in prison and would never leave him.
When Miles began speaking, Juanita's strongest instinct was suspicion. As he continued, not all of it left her; life had fooled and shortchanged her too often to permit total belief in anything. Yet her judgment inclined her to accept what Miles had said as genuine, and a sense of pity overwhelmed her.
She found herself comparing Miles with Carlos, her absentee husband. Carlos had been weak; so had Miles. Yet, in a way, Miles's willingness to return and face her penitently argued a strength and manhood which Carlos never had.
Suddenly she saw the humor in it all: The men in her life for one reason or another were flawed and unimpressive. They were also losers, like herself. She almost laughed, Then decided not to because Miles would never understand.
He said earnestly 'Juanita, I want to ask you something. Will you forgive met' She looked at him. 'And if you do, will you say it to me?'
The silent laughter died; tears filled her eyes. That she could understand. She had been born a Catholic, and Though nowadays she rarely bothered with church, she knew the solace of confession and absolution. She rose to her feet. 'Miles,' Juanita said. 'Stand up. Look at me.'
He obeyed her, and she said gently, ' Yes, I forgive you.'
The muscles of his face twisted and worked. Then she held him as he wept.
When Miles had composed himself, and they were seated again, Juamta spoke practically. 'Where will you spend the night?' 'I'm not sure. I'll find somewhere.'
She considered, then told him, 'You may stay here if you wish.' As she saw his surprise, she added quickly, 'You can sleep in this room for tonight only. I will be in the bedroom with Estela. Our door will be locked.' She wanted no misunderstandings.
'If you really don't mind,' he said, 'I'd like to do that. And you'll have nothing to worry about.'
He did not tell her the real reason she had no cause to worry: That there were other problems within himself psychological and sexual which he had not yet faced. All that Miles knew, so far, was that because of repeated homosexual acts between himself and Karl, his protector in prison, his desire for women had evaporated He wondered if he would be a man in any sexual way again.
Shortly after, as tiredness overcame them both, Juanita went to join Estela.
In the morning, through the closed bedroom door; she heard Miles stirring early. A half hour later, when she emerged from the bedroom, he had left. A note was propped up on the living-room table. Juanita With all my heart, thank you, Miles
While she prepared breakfast for herself and Estela, she was surprised to find herself regretting he had gone.
2
In the four and a half months since approval of his savings and branch bank expansion plan by FMA's board of directors, Alex Vandervoort had moved swiftly. Planning and progress sessions between the bank's own staff and outside consultants and contractors had been held almost daily. Work continued during nights, weekends, and holidays, spurred on by Alex's insistence that the program be operating before the end of summer and in high gear by mid-fall
The savings reorganization was easiest to accomplish in the time. Most of what Alex wanted done including
