“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll pick you up at three?” There were a number of furniture stores in the area, and some had cash-and-carry availability. “Let’s see if we can get a mattress first, and then a sofa and a table.”
“Sounds good.”
After dinner he spread some bigger pillows on the balcony and we curled up together. He’d truly given up everything for me. Started over. The night passed in sweet conversation and tentative plans. There was kissing too, of course, but I backed off before it got too intense. That didn’t seem fair to either of us when I would return to Tia’s place at the end of the night. At eleven, Chance walked me to her door, kissed me again, and I went inside.
My mentor had left a lamp on for me, but she’d gone to sleep an hour before; she rarely stayed up past ten. The woman followed the light, working during the day, reading a little at night. We had no television, but I didn’t miss it. Chance would want one, I thought as I put my purse on the bed. I hadn’t put my mark on this space—a simple room decorated in colonial style—because I wouldn’t be here long, if the weather held and the work crew remained reliable. I’d hired an excellent foreman named Armando who was opposed to physical labor on his own behalf but excelled at making others buckle down.
Butch trotted to meet me, his nails clicking on the tile floor. He’d gotten a little pudgy since our return. He preferred staying with Tia while I worked at Chance’s place, as she had a nice courtyard where he could nap in the sun or chase birds. Usually it was the former—hence the Chihuahua spare tire.
“Anything exciting happen?” I asked, kneeling to scoop him into my arms.
He snuggled in with two quiet, negative yaps. It might not be normal for me to talk to my dog and get an answer, but it had been going on long enough that it didn’t seem odd to me anymore. I’d considered asking why he could understand me, but I’d decided some mysteries were better left alone.
“Did you keep Tia company?”
An affirmative bark.
I stroked his head, then scratched behind his ears, just as he liked. “Good boy. Did she remember to feed you?”
Yap. Yes. But Butch stared up at me with sad eyes, despite the fact that everything seemed to be okay in his world. I thought I knew what it was. “You miss Shannon, huh?”
Me too.
Shannon had been my best friend ever since I rescued her in Kilmer. She’d become my roommate and my closest confidante. Before the shit went down in Laredo, we’d discussed opening a consignment store in the new building, becoming true partners. The girl had been the closest I had to a sister.
With Butch in my arms, I curled up on the bed and remembered.
Laredo. A summoning spell had gone wrong due to my ignorance and lack of training, and Shannon was injured. The memory and regret swallowed me.
I had to stop putting her at risk. Maybe I should put her on a bus, even if she didn’t want to go. Before it was too late. “Look, Shan, I really think—”
“No.” She slammed the first door open and stomped to the apartment. “If you want to get rid of me, I’ll go. But you’re not sending me to my dad. I’m not a little kid.…I can get a job. Maybe I’ll try Cali. I hear it’s pretty there.” She glared, as if daring me to object. “You did fine on your own.”
“Not really,” I said softly. I’d never told anyone this. I didn’t like thinking about it. “I landed well at first. I found a job in a used-book store, and I had a room in a boardinghouse. But when the store went under, I couldn’t find anything else. Pretty soon I had no money and I had no place to stay. I don’t make friends easily, so I had nobody to turn to. I moved on with only enough money in my pocket to get to the next town. I found myself sleeping in the bus station. I did things I’m not proud of.”
I’d taken insane risks, and it was lucky I wasn’t diseased or dead. It would break my heart if I drove Shannon to that with my good intentions.
“Like what?”
She wouldn’t be satisfied unless I told her. I wouldn’t reveal my past to anyone else, for any other reason—only to keep Shan from repeating my mistakes. I was over it, mostly. I’d learned to deal. But she needed to know how much I trusted her.
So while I wrapped an ice pack, fixed a glass of water, and set out two pills, I revealed the whole story. Nobody knew this much about me—I’d picked up men for food and shelter, using serial monogamy as a means of survival. Those relationships never lasted long, because I chose men who wouldn’t reject me, ones who’d take me home and were lonely enough not to complain if I stayed. But I always moved on, feeling worse each time, because I lived with them out of desperation, not desire.
My past left me with such low self-esteem that I didn’t demand to be an equal partner with Chance when he came along. I didn’t feel worthy of him, and I did anything to please him; I spurned my old identity because it was awful and tawdry, and I wanted to forget that woman, the sad, desperate Corine. It would kill me if Shan ever thought she wasn’t equal to any man who wanted her.
I went on. “By the time I met Chance, I had gotten myself together. I had a place of my own and a job at a dry cleaner’s. But you know how hard it is to get work if you don’t have an address? How hard it is to keep clean in public restrooms so people’s eyes don’t slide away from you? It’s easier if you’re young. But if you’re old and homeless, it’s the next thing to an invisibility spell. I knew people who died on the street, people who froze to death and nobody noticed. Nobody cared. The city just removed the bodies like they were leaves in the street.” I bit my lip against the burn of tears and the throbbing in my head. “So if you think I’m letting you leave with nothing, you’re out of your mind. I want better than that for you.”
And that was part of the reason I couldn’t turn down Escobar’s money. I wanted her to have a future brighter than I could provide alone. Having a place of our own mattered desperately, and now maybe she’d understand why. If Chance knew, he might get why my pawnshop had meant everything to me, and with it blown to shit, why I felt as if someone I loved had died. I needed a home, damn it.
“I had no idea,” she whispered.
“Nobody does.” I exhaled shakily and got my own Aleve and agua.
Her expression said she understood; we didn’t need to speak of this again. Thank God. Though I’d come to terms with my mistakes, I didn’t enjoy reliving them, even for Shan’s benefit.
But she had her own point to make as well. “Look, I’ll stop threatening to leave if you stop talking about sending me away. I know it’s dangerous. I’m not an idiot. But for the first time I feel like I belong and I’m not giving that up. Okay?”
I downed my water like it was a shot of something stronger. “Fair enough.”
Now, she didn’t remember me. Part of me—the selfish part—wanted desperately to cast something to negate what I’d done, but with my lack of control, I couldn’t risk making Shan and Jesse worse or hurting them again. So I lived with the consequences and missed my best friend. I’d do pretty much anything to have her back in my life, but my options were limited.
I went to bed that night and dreamt of old mistakes. In the morning I had some fruit for breakfast, showered, and dressed. Tia was cleaning this morning, so the house was empty when I left. I left her a note saying what time I’d be home and headed to my meeting, where I argued with Armando, the foreman, about his projected date of completion.
“If you don’t step it up,” I said in Spanish, “rainy season will set in, and there won’t be time to finish.”
“We’re doing the best we can, señorita. There have been delays. Materials —”
“Let me make this simple. You will have the building finished by”—I named a date—“or I will hire someone else to take your place. Understood?”
“Sí, claro. I’ll get the work done.”
