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Gracie shuffled through the collection of envelopes in her post office box. She saw letters from relatives in Mexico, a few bills, and some other correspondence—but not the one item she really hoped for. Another pound of weight settled on Gracie's shoulders with each step she took back to the truck.
"So?" Jake's good-natured inquiry came as soon as Gracie opened the door.
"The letter still hasn't come." She held onto the door handle and boosted herself inside. "I can't move forward with leasing that new place until I know if I've been awarded the grant. Without it, I'm back at square one. I hate this." She would give anything to lose this heaviness and stand up straight again.
Jake pushed a button on the dashboard, silencing the stereo system. "What do you mean?"
"At the beginning of the week, I was the proud owner of a small business that both made ends meet— albeit tightly—and made a difference. Now, all I can think about is how I don't have enough money to continue my work." She placed her elbow on the edge of the door and rested her chin in the cup of her hand, looking blankly at the ocean as they turned onto Gulfview Boulevard. "I never used to think about money all the time. I used to believe that, like the lilies of the field, God would provide everything I needed."
Jake steered the car into a U-turn. "What's changed, Gracie?"
"What do you mean?" Jake's sudden deviation from the route back to her school made Gracie's sense of control fall even more.
"I mean, why can't you trust anymore?" He continued west on Gulfview, toward the end of the island. "It seems to me that not much has changed. You were pinning your hopes on that grant check long before my company's condo project ever entered the picture."
The reality of Jake's words hit Gracie with full force, buffeting her with the impact of his truth.
"Gracie, when I was in Austin watching my career and my law practice go through the shredder, I thought I couldn't stop moving. I was afraid that if I quit pushing forward, I'd lose my momentum and it would all crumble. It all fell apart anyway, and when the last card came down, the exhaustion of not taking the time for myself consumed me."
Jake pulled the car into the entrance to Surfside Beach. "You said your sister was here at the beach. I'm taking you for a break."
Gracie began to protest, then stopped herself. Maybe Jake had the right idea. Maybe she needed a few minutes to refresh. "Thank you, Jake," she said simply. "Which one is your sister's car?" Jake pointed at the front edge of the sand-covered parking lot.
"Umm...that one." Gracie scanned the rows of cars. "The red Chevy SUV in the far corner."
Jake gave the truck some gas, pushing it across the top of a patch of powdery sand. The maneuver marked Jake as an experienced beach driver. Going any slower on the soft surface would have been a sure way to get the heavy vehicle stuck.
"Here you go." He pulled up behind Gloria's car, applied the brake and unbuckled his seat belt. "Do you see her out there?"
"Actually, I do. That purple umbrella near the shore is hers." Gracie looked forward to seeing no-nonsense Gloria, who always knew just what to say when her little sister needed words of wisdom.
At the same time, Gracie felt reluctant to leave Jake's presence. He'd proven to be so much different than her original assessment. He wasn't a heartless privileged son. Jake Peoples was a man who wanted to do the right thing.
He wanted to take over his family's company so he could set the record straight about his own life and to ensure that the business was run fairly. He believed in people, even sometimes to his own detriment. And he would go the extra mile to do the right thing. They came from different worlds, but she and Jake had a lot in common.
The realization made Gracie smile.
"You look really pretty when you do that, you know."
"Do what?"
"Smile. It lights up your face. You're a beautiful woman, Gracie. Especially when you forget to be worried."
"Oh, Jake, I don't know about that."
"You shouldn't sell yourself short. Surely there's been another man who's told you that."
She lowered her gaze. "Not for a long time."
She'd originally thought David found her attractive, but then discovered he really saw her as some kind of ugly duckling he needed to turn into his own version of a swan. Jake had brought her to Surfside Beach for a break from the last few days of uncertainty. But more than that, Gracie wanted a break from the years since David, years where she'd guarded her heart and never let anyone close.
But why should she trust Jake? He and David both came from the same kind of world—one where people didn't speak with accents, didn't wear blue collars, and vacationed in posh resorts of foreign countries—not in the modest neighborhoods of the relatives who worked at those posh resorts.
"Then someone's missed an incredible opportunity." His voice lowered, barely audible above the faint stirring of the car's engine. His green eyes turned a shade darker, like the peel of an almost-ripe avocado. The seriousness of his gaze commanded her attention. "When I called you this morning, I said I wanted to apologize for putting you in an awkward position last night."
She needed to jump in and rescue him from saying things that would make them both feel awkward. "Jake, you don't need to apologize. I—"
"I'm not going to apologize, Gracie."
"You're not?" Surely her elevated heart rate must be affecting her hearing.
"Can't you tell, Gracie? After I told you about the City Council's upcoming vote, I planned to just write you off. But I couldn't. And not because of anything extraordinary. Just because of who you are." He smiled at her with a sincerity that even the nagging whisper in her head couldn't deny. "You convinced me that not only was your school worth saving but you were worth getting to know better. I hadn't set foot in a church in almost a decade until last night. I came because of the school you created from nothing. I came because of you."
"Jake, that's not because of me, that's because of God. He puts people and circumstances in our lives for a reason." As the words rolled off her tongue, a light clicked on for Gracie as surely as if she had tripped an entire box of breakers.
"What?" Jake tilted his head and stared deeply at her, studying her face. "You look like you have more to say."
"Well, maybe I just answered my own question. I've spent the few days so worried about the circumstances surrounding you and El Centro that I forgot He's in control." Gracie could hear the animation coming back into her voice, like the moment in The Wizard of Oz when the scene changes from black and white to glorious color. "Maybe He's put you in my life for a reason. Maybe I needed you to show me those new properties, to push me out of my comfort zone and into a new direction. Maybe it's the start of a new and wonderful chapter for El Centro."
"It certainly could be, Gracie. I don't know much about God, but I do know the place we found today is a great location for you to both live in and teach. And maybe there's more. If there's one thing I've learned recently, it's that good friends are a gift, especially when times are uncertain."
Jake's hand rested back on the gearshift. Gracie reached out and covered it lightly with her own. She couldn't deny his observation. She worked so much that she had more acquaintances than true friends. But the butterflies fluttering in her stomach seemed more than just friendly.
"Sí. Todos necesitamos amigos." She smiled, ready to release the apprehension that had dogged her for days, then remembered she needed to translate. "We all need friends."
The three quick raps on the window, each progressively louder, were a calling card Gracie did not want to receive. Even with her back turned toward the window, Gracie knew she'd just been caught.
"Graciela? Is that you?" Gloria's voice sounded muffled through the glass. Although technically asking a question, no quizzical inflections punctuated the sentence. Gloria already knew the answer.
Gracie turned around and punched the button to lower the window, wishing she could face any music other than her sister's. "Hi, Gloria. How's your afternoon at the beach?"
Gracie tried to keep her voice from taking on the tone of a teenager coming in after curfew.
"Oh, it's been good. Peaceful. Lots of sun." She lowered her head and looked straight across the small cabin at Jake. "But walking back to my car, I've noticed some storm clouds rolling in."
The only chill in the early summer air Gracie could sense came from directly outside the passenger door. "I see."
Gracie didn't want to discuss this right now, not while she could still remember the closeness she and Jake just shared. "Jake was about to drop me off for a little R&R with you, but since you're packing up, I guess I'll just find something else to do."
"Well, Mamí is making fresh tamales tonight for the church fund-raiser tomorrow. She'll need all the help she can get. Why don't we all meet at Huarache's?" Gloria popped her head through the window opening. "I don't know how it is in your family business, Mr. Peoples, but in ours, we all pitch in. When you're cooking, you can get distracted easily. If you mess with the recipe, things won't turn out how you want them to. It's good to have someone who can keep you from making a mistake."
Gloria's raised eyebrows and knowing smile only underscored the true meaning of her carefully chosen words. Gloria had smelled a rat early on in Gracie's relationship with David. She wanted Gracie to know her radar was on high alert again.
"I'm going home to take a shower and wash this sand off, and I'll call Mamí to let her know what the plans are. See you both around six." Gloria tapped the car door with the palm of her hand. It reminded Gracie of a judge's gavel after the verdict. There would be no pleas for leniency, no appeals.
As Gloria walked back to her car, Gracie could only shake her head. "You must think my sister is nuts."
"Not at all. I think she's one of the shrewdest negotiators I've ever faced. So, it seems we have plans tonight." Jake rolled up the window from the button on the driver's side of the truck, then shifted the transmission into gear. "I have a sister, too, you know. She and Gloria could fight for the front-row seat at Overprotective Siblings Anonymous."
The way Jake took Gloria's suspicion in stride eased Gracie's discomfort. "Well, what do you want to do now? It's only three-thirty."
"Would you mind if I dropped you off at your place, then came back to get you around five-thirty? I'd planned on reviewing my presentation for the board tonight, and if I'm going to be facing the Garcia family instead, I need to go to the office and get some work done."
"Sure." The time would give her the opportunity to compose herself before seeing her parents and Gloria.
Gloria...
Frustration and a little bit of anger mixed in Gracie's emotional pool. No matter how hard she'd tried not to, in Gloria's unbending presence, Gracie wound up feeling like a high schooler going to the prom who needed approval to stay out past curfew.
It didn't take long to drive from Surfside Beach to El Centro.
Jake pulled to a stop in the small parking lot. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. It's working out for your school. This will work out, too. Remember what you said earlier?"
"Oh, I remember," Gracie said as she gave the door handle a gentle tug. "But in our family, we've always joked that Mamí has God himself on speed dial. She's probably giving him an earful right now."
"Don't worry, Gracie. I've met plenty of parents before." "Maybe so." She got out of the car. "But were any of them Mexican?"
He shook his head. She had him there. Experience—and even a law degree—would be no match for a mama from Mexico.
––––––––
"Your grandmother has left several messages for you." Jake's administrative assistant, Anne, stopped him before he even reached his office.
"Thanks. Did you get my voice mail about the letter of recommendation for Gracie Garcia?" He thumbed through the short stack of pink while-you-were-out messages Anne had thrust into his hand.
"Yes, Jake. I've already drafted it and faxed it over to Melissa Miller's office."
"Great." Concentrating on tomorrow's presentation would come more easily now that he knew Gracie was taken care of. Jake tossed his laptop bag on the brown leather couch near the office door.
He would check on Nana, then get to work. He sat on the other end of the couch and pushed Nana's speed-dial button on the phone that sat on the nearby end table.
She picked up after only one ring. "Jake, where have you been?" Her voice did not contain any trace of its usual sunshine.
"Good afternoon, Nana. Is something wrong?" "I've been calling you for hours. Did you turn off your cell phone?"
Jake dug in his pocket. The phone didn't come to life when he pressed the button. "Looks like the battery died."
No wonder he'd had such a pleasant afternoon—no distractions. Except for Gracie and her charming smile, that is. How strange that in less than a day's time, he'd gone from thinking of Gracie as a nuisance—a roadblock to his personally constructed plans—to thinking of her as a friend.
"Well, I've been talking to Milton Brashear, and things are not looking good for tomorrow. Sam Pennington has gotten his little group on the board together and he's finally managed to convince them to vote against you."
Great. Sam Pennington had been Jake's father's best friend. No doubt Sam had been told every story Jake's father had concocted. With details.
"Nana, I thought you and Milton were working on him." He'd felt so confident this morning after helping Gracie find a suitable place to move. Once again, he'd tried to save everyone else and forgotten to save himself.
"We tried, Jake. Milton's had lunch with him three times in the last two weeks. Last week, he said he had concerns, but ultimately felt the company needed to remain headed by someone in the family for stability's sake in these crazy economic times. Today, he told Milton he'd thought about your father and changed his position."
"He thought about my father, Nana? That figures. Even in death, the old man is still at the forefront of everyone's mind."
He ran a hand through his hair and sank back uneasily into the office sofa. Like this situation with the board of directors, the cushions didn't have much give to them.
Jake looked at his surroundings, remembering how when he'd first returned to town, he'd redecorated this office, stripping the walls and the floors bare. Nothing remained of his father's choices. Nothing except a board of directors that, over the years, had seen Johnny Peoples turning his broad back on his only son.
"If I hear anything more, I'll call you. Please keep your phone on, okay?"
Her sigh was full of resignation. If Diana Powell Peoples couldn't fix this mess with her connections and years as the matriarch of this family, Jake knew there wasn't much hope.
"I will, Nana. Thanks for the heads-up." Disconnecting the call seemed like the perfect metaphor for his feelings. He now felt completely uncertain about tomorrow's meeting. His heart pressed hard and heavy inside his chest. A few months ago, Nana convinced him to leave Austin's memories behind and come back to Port Provident. She'd convinced him he could make a fresh start in his childhood home. She'd always believed in him, just as his sister Jenna had always believed in him. But apparently no one else in Port Provident did. He didn't know if he even could believe in himself anymore.
––––––––
"I believe you're ready to move on to the next level, Margarita." Gracie said as she closed a workbook of basic English grammar lessons. "You've been a very quick study."
"Thank you, Gracie. I've been practicing a lot with Manny after work. We are only speaking English at home now so we can get better." The student, old enough to be Gracie's grandmother, beamed with pride. Even the bun of steel wool-colored hair atop her head shone.
Gracie pulled a red paperback from the corner bookshelf. "This is what you'll need for the next class. We will use dialogues for most of the lessons."
"So, I can start coming to the Tuesday morning class now?" Gracie nodded. Their tutoring sessions outside of El Centro's Level One class had clearly paid off.
"What's the matter, Gracie? You look worried. Do you think I won't be able to keep up with the new group?" Margarita's wrinkled forehead creased further with concern. "I saw you on the news the other night. Is that the problem?"
Gracie had tried to keep up a brave face these last few days with her students. And now that she'd found the new building downtown, she felt even more bothered that she couldn't release the trepidation that clutched her mind and heart at the most unexpected times. But a student like Margarita brought it all home—a grandmother who achieved her lifetime goal of getting a visa and reuniting with her precious children and grandchildren—only to find out she couldn't really communicate with them.
Gracie would never forget being new to America, without the skills to communicate. She'd never forget being at the bottom of her class until a teacher believed in her and helped her get the language skills she needed. There were so many stories like her own, and she'd grown up in a community of good people who wanted to better their lives, but just needed someone to believe in them— that's why Gracie had opened the doors of El Centro por las Lenguas.
Without her, they'd lose their momentum.
But without students to help and teach, she'd lose a piece of who she was.
The Center for Languages existed for people like Margarita. What would become of the Margarita de Leons, the Pablo Moraleses, and the Juan Calderons of Port Provident if Gracie couldn't make the numbers add up, and instead had to close her doors in just a few days' time?
A sinking feeling gripped Gracie's stomach. Too many people needed her to find a way. "I could use your prayers right now, Margarita. There's a lot going on."
"Sí. Yo sabe." Margarita lapsed into the familiar comfort of Spanish and patted the seat of the green plastic chair next to her. "I know, Gracie. I heard about what the City Council is trying to do to you. I saw you on TV with Angela Ruiz. Gracie, maestra, you must remember God has a special spot in his heart for teachers. Jesucristo himself answered to 'Teacher' from the disciples."
When Margarita put her arm around Gracie's shoulders and squeezed, gratitude flowed like a balm over Gracie's raw nerves. It felt as if she was getting advice from her own abuelita, who lived so far away.
"He has not forgotten what He has called you here to do. When one door closes, He always opens another."
"I've heard that so many times in my life, Margarita. And even though I know I should trust in His plans, I am filled with fear over money and the possibility of moving, and..."
And Jake. Gracie knew it didn't take much for her thoughts to turn to the island native with the eyes like a Caribbean surf. But she didn't dare admit that to her student. She could barely admit it to herself.
"Well, maestra, it sounds like you need to remember the story of Queen Esther. Becoming part of the royal household wasn't in her plans. But she helped save her people because she had been chosen, as she said, 'for such a time as this.'"
Margarita picked up her black patent-leather purse as she rose out of the seat. "Maybe it's your time, Gracie." The older woman leaned over Gracie and hugged her tightly. "Be bold."
And with that definitive proclamation, Margarita walked out of the classroom. Sunshine broke through the clouds in her heart. Her time was now. She panned her gaze over to the door of her small office. Inside were the calculators and spreadsheets she would use to craft a budget for a time like this.
She would save her school and the dreams that depended on it.
The rest of Jake's afternoon passed with a slow sense of desperation. He couldn't focus on the work scattered across his desk. What did it matter, anyway? Sam Pennington was determined to see the rectangle of varnished oak become someone else's desk, effective tomorrow.
Jake couldn't sit around just thinking about the upcoming showdown. He needed to do something. He needed to feel as if control of his life wasn't slipping through his fingers like the sand on the beach where he'd always gone to think.
Jake turned his gaze to the left, then swept it slowly right. This had been his father's office. Even though Jake had moved his father's décor out—except the couch—and his own few furnishings in, the room still felt foreign.
As if it wasn't his own. As if it would never be his own.
A familiar memory came flooding back in Jake's mind with a strength that hadn't hit him since high school varsity football. He'd needed something to call his own back in those days, too. And to achieve it, he'd left town for Austin. Looks as though he'd be heading back tomorrow, once Sam Pennington got his way. He couldn't stay in Port Provident—not without a job.
He had creditors to pay as part of his recent settlement. He would have to make good on those obligations somehow. And he couldn't do it here, surrounded by the gossip and speculation that seemed to go hand in hand with life in a small town.
Jake yanked open the drawer to his desk. He stuck his hand inside without looking and closed his fist around a set of keys. Before Nana's call, he'd planned to go home and practice his presentation for the board. But maybe he needed to face the truth and spend his time working on other details.
Like packing a suitcase, putting some gas in the tank of the truck and getting ready to once again be forced out of this too-small town and its too many memories.
Jenna's white Toyota blocked Jake from parking in his usual spot next to the carriage house. He looked up and saw his sister bouncing his oversized black suitcase down the front stairs.
"Hey there, big brother!" Jenna waved her free arm in an enthusiastic greeting. "I got Nana to let me in."
"What are you doing?" Jake shook his head as he called out to her. "I'm going to need that."
"I'm giving it back, silly. You told me the other day I could borrow it for the cruise. Mitch and I leave a week from Saturday. I'm going to start packing now so I'm not rushing at the last minute, as I always do. I'm tired of throwing everything together like a tornado and then realizing I forgot my toothbrush. In the middle of the ocean, I can't just run down to the store and pick up what I need."
Jake stopped at the bottom of the stairs, blocking Jenna's path to her car. "Well, you'll need to pick up a new suitcase first. I'm taking that one with me."
His sister quirked one eyebrow high. "Taking it where?"
"To Austin." Jake reached for the black rectangle.
The usually chatty Jenna spluttered, trying to find her words. "But...why?"
"Just because." The words tasted bitter, like bad medicine. He wanted to say more, to confide in the sister who'd always loved him even when his parents hadn't, but he couldn't let Jenna know what was about to happen. Not after he'd promised to take care of the company—and her—earlier this very week. Knowing he would not be able to keep his word to his sister shamed him.
Jenna sat the suitcase on the stair behind her and looked straight at Jake. "Not good enough. You went to college and then you never came back. I'm just getting to know you all over again. I like having you around. I need my big brother. And a certain little person will need his or her uncle."
Like a small child turned loose on a pile of wrapping paper, Jenna's words ripped apart the numbness fogging up Jake's brain. "Wait a minute. You don't mean..."
Jenna's shy smile broke into a shining grin. She nodded her head. "Your little sister is going to be a mommy."
Jake stared at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. She wasn't just making those words up to get him to stay. The rosy glow to her cheeks looked too fresh to have been created by makeup.
He raked a hand through his hair. Jake tried to balance his desire to run far from his problems with the rising need to know the next generation of his family. But no matter how badly he wanted to support Jenna at this time of her life, and no matter how much he wanted to be this baby's uncle, it was out of his hands. Johnny Peoples had poisoned the cup years before. Jake looked at his feet and sighed. He couldn't be there for Jenna's baby because the only lessons he could teach were ones of failure and regret. A certain little person didn't need that. Jake wouldn't stack the deck against the newest and most innocent branch on the Peoples family tree.
"Congratulations, Jenna." He reached out.
Jenna leaned over to return what she interpreted as the beginning of a brotherly hug. Jake ducked her embrace and kept his head low. Maybe if Jenna couldn't see his eyes, she wouldn't know how much it hurt to know what would happen to him tomorrow.
His hand slipped past his sister and rested on the handle of the suitcase, tugging it out of the grip of the mother-to-be. "But I'm still going to need this."
Jake pulled into El Centro's parking lot and tried to adjust his attitude. The afternoon's phone call from Nana had started his emotional slide.
After running into Jenna and realizing that his father's disapproval— brought back to life by Sam Pennington—was going to keep him from knowing his first niece or nephew, he'd fallen into a funk he just couldn't pull himself out of.
Gracie appeared at the truck's passenger door and gave a quick knock on the glass. He hadn't even realized she stood there. The fog that had settled into his brain a few hours ago seemed too thick to clear.
"You don't look like yourself at all."
"What do you mean?" He didn't want to worry her with his problems. He'd caused enough stress for everyone around him—especially Gracie. He'd decided to leave after this evening with her concluded so he wouldn't add more stress by standing her up.
She deserved better than he could ever give. Gracie, the woman he'd just pledged his friendship to this very afternoon would be another person disappointed by him tomorrow once Sam Pennington finished resurrecting decades of gossip.
"You don't seem like yourself. Something's wrong." She settled herself into the seat, and Jake pulled out of the parking lot.
"Not really." Pride rose to the top of his throat, blocking the exit for any words to escape. "Now, how do we get to Huarache's?"
"It's not far from the church. Forty-Seventh and Gulfview."
"It's on Gulfview?" He couldn't hide the surprise in his voice.
"Mm-hmm. Why do you ask?" Gracie's eyebrows drew together as she studied him.
"Well, I..." He stopped speaking abruptly, embarrassed. "I've never noticed it. Has it been there long?"
Gracie's eyebrows changed position from confusion to amusement. "Only about twenty years. It's pink-and-orange stucco on the main beachfront street in town. How could you possibly miss it?"
"Good question. I seem to have missed a lot. I missed the signs that trusting a lying client would lead me into bankruptcy. And today it seems I missed the fact that my father's legacy will keep me from running my family's company." He pulled into the parking lot behind Huarache's. He realized that he did know this building—he'd just never taken the time to care about it. "I guess it's no surprise I missed a pink-and-orange restaurant every time I drove down this street for my entire life."
Jake kicked at a small pile of rocks in the parking lot as he got out of the truck. They scattered in a dozen different directions. Just like every dream he'd ever had.
He walked over to open Gracie's door, but she exited on her own before he could plod over there. She stopped his slow progress with a light palm on his chest. "Jake. Something is wrong. I can see it. Please don't close yourself off like this."
She gently tapped his shoulder. The soft touch reached through muscle and skin, around to his heart and pride. The stone inside began to waver like a palm tree facing the winds of a hurricane.
"It just hasn't been a good day, Gracie." He'd given her the background over their snapper lunch, but if he now started talking about the fact he was going to be the first John Edward Peoples in Port Provident history not to receive a vote of confidence to head the family company, she'd see right through him.
Gracie would know what his father always said. She would know the fraud he must truly be.
The light in her eyes dimmed as she spoke. "You spent most of your day with me. I don't understand."
His preoccupation with his own issues had prompted him to speak without thinking. Gracie had no way of knowing the phone call with his grandmother caused his day to take a dark turn.
She didn't know he'd made his sister cry on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life.
She didn't know that his hours with her filled his afternoon with the only pure sunshine in this gloomy day.
"It's not you, Gracie. It's me. I promise."
"What does that mean, Jake? Why are you using some cheap breakup line?" Her voice started strong, then trailed off. If she hadn't been standing next to him, he would have missed the last phrase entirely.
But when she found out that he couldn't even save his own job at his own family's business, she wouldn't trust anything he said to help save hers. And when she realized he had no power to help her, they would go their separate ways in just a few hours.
Jake leaned against the rear bumper of the truck, trying not to think of tomorrow. "I had to let go of a dream this afternoon."
"What do you mean?" Her voice sounded as soft her floral fragrance that drifted on the breeze. Her gentle presence somehow comforted him.
He could hold back his thoughts from Nana and Jenna, but for some reason, not from Gracie. "My grandmother called. She's been tipped off that the board will not vote to confirm me at tomorrow's meeting." His ears ached at the sound of his own words.
Gracie's expression turned serious. "You sound so sure of it. Nothing's final yet. They haven't even heard your presentation."
"My father's best friend has gotten enough votes to block me. Even from the grave, my father's mistrust still follows me all over this town. All my life, my father kept me at arm's length from everything that meant anything to him. Once Sam Pennington reminds the board that my father didn't want me as part of his life or his company, I see no reason for the vote to go in a different direction from what Nana said earlier." Jake wanted to pull away from her intense stare, but her eyes followed his.
"So you're going to allow my business to be ruined for nothing? You're going to allow your family's business to be run by someone else?" She pulled away when Jake reached out to take her hand. "No. That's not the Jake Peoples I've come to know."
"Then you don't know the real Jake Peoples." The distasteful words practically spit out of his mouth. "Tomorrow, I'll be the first one in four generations to be shown the door from Peoples Property Group. First, my own law office, now this. The only thing it seems I know how to do is fail, Gracie."
A large family's laughter carried on the wind all the way from just outside the restaurant's front door. Their good-natured conversation prodded Jake like a white-hot poker. His family never had moments like that.
He couldn't recall his mother, father, sister and him ever laughing together in that way. Jake's jaw clenched.
He reached out a hand, without thinking, and slammed his palm into the side of the truck, barely missing Gracie. The sting of skin on steel hurt, but not as much as the memories.
"What are you doing, Jake?" Gracie gasped.
"I don't know." His breathing came heavy and short. "This wasn't how things were supposed to go. I was supposed to get it right this time."
The wind swirled gently around the parking lot as the sun began to set, framing Gracie's hair in gold.
"You know, Gracie, I think I'm not good company tonight." He knew canceling on her right here was cheap, but maybe she needed an introduction to the same Jake everyone else appeared to know.
"No, you're not leaving." Gracie replied. "My family's expecting you. You say you let down your family when things didn't work out for you in the past—well, you're not going to let down mine tonight." The determination in her voice could have intimidated a line of Army generals.
"Gracie, I'm not trying to..." She cut him off.
"That's right, Jake, you're not trying. You're bailing on mi madre, who's counting on an extra pair of hands tonight. You're resigning yourself to being kicked out of your company before you even give your presentation. You're giving up on yourself because of the expectations of someone who isn't even alive anymore." She stared straight at him, brown-velvet eyes full of concern. "And you're running away from me after you promised your friendship and your help in saving my school."
She pulled back, swiped her hand in the air dismissively, then began to walk toward the short stucco annex off the back of Huarache's main building.
Jake wanted to reach out and grab her hand, to hold on for a moment. But by the time he'd sorted through his thoughts enough to act on them, Gracie had already made it to the door. The hinges squeaked open, then a second later, the pink door slammed shut with a metallic thud. The silence in the night air wrapped around him. The laughing family had found their way inside and were probably sitting down to a good meal. Gracie had gone inside to her family, as well.
But Jake remained in the parking lot, on the outside as usual. He looked at the door Gracie had just walked through, then looked at the keys in his hand. It was time to go home and get ready to face tomorrow. Gracie Garcia was just one more missed opportunity in the life of Jake Peoples.
––––––––
"Aren't you missing someone?" Juanita Garcia looked up as soon as her youngest daughter walked in. "Your sister told us you were bringing a friend tonight, Graciela." Her mother's eyes sparkled with mischief as her arms rested almost elbow-deep in masa, the ground corn dough that formed the chewy exterior of a tamale.
"No, Mamí. Something came up." Like a complete and total turnaround from the self-confident Jake she thought she knew.
Gracie couldn't explain what had happened to Jake tonight. How could one phone call bring about such a change in a person?
"It tells you a lot about a man if he's afraid of tamale-making." Juanita Garcia's warm, throaty laugh—a sound Gracie had always loved—rippled through the room.
"I don't think it's that, Mamí. I wish I really knew what happened. Earlier this afternoon, he helped me find a new location for the school that will work if I get the grant, then we had lunch and ran into Gloria on the beach."
Gracie walked to the prep table and picked up a stack of dried corn husks, placing them in a bowl of water for softening. "Then tonight, he picked me up to come here and he wasn't himself."
Gloria walked through the side door, carefully balancing an assortment of spice bottles in each hand. "Where's Jake?"
"He's not coming," said Gracie and her mother at the same time.
"Qué?" The bottles rolled out of Gloria's arms and across the countertop with a thud that punctuated her simple question.
"I really don't know, Gloria." Gracie reached in her mother's bowl and grabbed a hunk of pliant white dough. "It feels good to do something productive instead of worrying. I've done enough of that this past week. First about the school, and then about Jake. I'm done worrying. On to tamales."
The vaguely grainy masa squished between Gracie's fingers. Each round of flexing and working the dough released a little more of her frustration.
Her sister gave a gentle hip bump as she passed by on the way to her own station. "Well, if you're not going to worry about him, Graciela, can I?"
"You don't even like him, Gloria. Why on earth would you worry about him?"
Gloria moved a pan of cooked pork close to her and laid an empty pan alongside it. "What do you mean I don't like him?"
"Well, both times you've met him, you've pretty much torn him to shreds." A voice several octaves deeper than those of the three Garcia women came from the doorway. Jake looked pointedly at Gloria, who pulled at the large rounds of cooked pork until they became small strips in the pan.
"Jake...you said you weren't coming." Gracie tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. She didn't want him—or any of her family members—to know how her heart leapt when he spoke.
"Well, you were right, Gracie. I promised some people I'd be here. I seem to have blown a big opportunity with my family. I didn't want to do the same with yours. And if I went home, all I'd do was think about more negative things."
He crossed the room in two steps and stood next to her mom. "Señora Garcia, how can I help?"
"Bienvenidos, Jake. Any friend of Gracie's is always welcome in our kitchen." Her mother smiled a knowing smile. She nodded at the bowl, indicating she would shake his proffered hand, except for the mess that covered her to the forearms. "You can help Gloriana shred the pork, if you'd like. Gracie's measuring out the balls of masa. But we will need something to stuff them with."
"I'd be happy to. Gloria, you'll tell me what I need to know?" Gloria's eyes lit with mischief.
Gracie knew that look from a hundred childhood pranks. "You're up to something, Gloria." She wished she knew just what was running through her sister's head.
"Me? Never." Gloria looked down at the pork roasts and began shredding methodically. She lifted her head and met Gracie's eyes, then began to giggle.
Gracie's own eyes rolled at her sister's silliness.
"I brought sodas." Gracie's father stopped as soon as he entered the room and looked from Gracie to Gloria and then at Jake. He didn't say another word to his daughters, and instead set the bottles of fizzy drinks on the nearest counter and then turned to Jake. "Carlos Garcia. You must be Gracie's friend—the one Gloria told us about."
Jake reached quickly for the outstretched hand and gave it a strong shake. "Jake Peoples. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garcia."
"The pleasure is mine. Please, call me Carlos." Gracie stood dumbfounded, watching the introductions she'd been so certain weren't going to happen.
"I thought you were heading home."
"I did head home. I even pulled up to Nana's gate. But the sound of your voice replaying in my head wouldn't let me drive any further." His knuckles looked white as he gripped the edge of the counter. "If I don't keep my commitments when times get rough, I'm proving my father right."
A different warmth began to come over Gracie, starting deep in her stomach, when she heard him say he'd thought about her words as he drove in the car. She spoke softly, wanting to keep the bubbling emotion out of her words. "I think you made the right decision."
"And now it's time to get to work." Slapping a black nylon kitchen fork on the rim of the shredded pork pan, Gloria cut in the conversation and assumed the role of taskmaster. Her grin gave Gracie hope that her sister would give Jake a chance.
Jake walked over to Gloria, fingers raised in a quick salute. "Private Peoples, reporting for duty."
"Your mission, Private Peoples, is to take this pork and to give it some shock and awe." She pointed at several pounds of freshly roasted meat.
"Yes, ma'am." Jake found two more shiny aluminum rectangles and set up a processing station that resembled Gloria's, then stocked one pan with plenty of yummy material with which to work.
"Don't forget your gloves." Mamí pulled a pair of clear plastic gloves from a box on the shelf over the sink. "Gracie, take these to Jake."
Instead of taking them to put on himself, Jake held his left hand out for Gracie to slide on the glove. "Gracie?" Jake gave a sincere smile at her hesitation to put the glove on his hand. "You're slowing down the assembly line."
"I'm going to need the masa on those husks very soon, Graciela. Rápido!" Juanita cocked an eyebrow straight at where her daughter couldn't stop studying Jake's smile.
"Lo siento, Mamí." Well, really, she only felt sorry about turning away from Jake and walking back to the other side of the counter.
"So, Jake, I understand you're in real estate?" Papí pulled a bottle opener out of a corner drawer and began popping tops off the soda bottles.
Gracie could feel herself deflate like the whoosh of the escaping carbonation as her father blindly dove into the heart of Jake's struggle tonight. She couldn't blame Papí for making small talk out of the only detail he knew about Jake. But still, she wanted Jake to feel as safe talking with her family as she always did when they cooked together.
Jake continued to work at his assignment. "Well, Carlos, I am for now. But not after tomorrow. Is Huarache's hiring?" He held up a handful of pulled pork and laughed as he spoke.
It made Gracie breathe a sigh of relief to see him joking instead of stressing. What a difference the passage of a little bit of time could make. "You may consider this my job interview."
"I'm sure we could find you a spot, Jake, although we prefer to hire family." Papí clapped a wide hand, marked with the scars from years around knives in a busy kitchen, on Jake's shoulder as he passed. Gracie had seen Papí give Gloria's husband, Felipe, the same sign of approval so many times over the years before Felipe passed away.
He brought the last of the soda bottles to the table and started handing them out. "Gracie, I know you want the orange soda. Jake? Which flavor do you prefer? Limón? These are popular soft drinks in Mexico. I hope you like them."
"I think I'll try the lemon, Carlos. I believe I had one of these as a kid when we went down to Cancún on a vacation." He took a long sip straight from the bottle. "How many tamales are we going to make tonight?"
"Ten dozen, maybe a few more. They're always popular at the church fund-raisers. Lots of families like to eat homemade tamales, but don't always have the time to make them." Mamí squeezed between Jake and Gloria and removed a pan heavy with a mountain of tamale filling. "Anything worth having takes time and effort. A good tamale is no different, Jake."
"That's a good way of looking at it, Mrs. Garcia."
"Oh, you should call me Juanita. Mrs. Garcia is Carlos's madre."
She smiled that warm smile Gracie had known all her life, the smile that drew people in and made them immediate friends. Gracie hoped it made Jake feel at home in Huarache's kitchen.
A snippet of a popular song began to play from Gloria's cell phone. Gloria pulled off her gloves quickly and answered the phone. "How are you feeling, Cara?" Gloria pushed back from the table and stepped over to a corner of the room to talk to her patient.
"I think I'm about finished here, Juanita." Jake dropped the last few shreds on top of the pile in front of him, then removed the spice-stained disposable gloves.
"Muy bien! You can help Gracie spread this masa on the corn husks, then I'll come behind you all and add the filling and Gloria can roll them up. Then we'll start putting them in the steamer."
A large, aluminum mixing bowl, filled to the brim with masa, got pushed toward the open spot next to Gracie. "What's the best way to do this, Gracie?" Jake asked, moving just a bit closer to her than necessary.
This wasn't the first batch of tamales Gracie had a part in making. She knew it would not be the last. But she would certainly remember it as the most enjoyable.
Gracie retrieved a husk from the bowl of water to her right and laid it out before her. "After you get a softened husk, you reach in and grab a good handful of masa. Then, with your fingers, you work it out evenly—all the way to the edges."
"That's how you make them by yourself, Jake. When you make tamales with su novia, it's much better to work like this." Carlos stopped behind Juanita, wrapping his arms around her so that his hands slid between her arms and torso, making it appear that there were four hands preparing the corn and pork.
Gracie hoped Jake's Spanish wasn't good enough to realize that the word Papí used could be translated as "girlfriend."
A small flush of embarrassment prickled at Gracie's cheeks like the brush of a holly bush. She and Jake were nothing more than adversaries who were becoming friends. No matter how old a daughter got, a father could still embarrass her without even trying.
"Maybe you're right, Carlos." Jake came up behind Gracie. "That would definitely make it more fun." Jake's easy interaction with her family made her smile. David had only met her family once, and he had made it clear that he didn't have any fun at the time.
"Jake..." Gracie tried to catch his attention in order to get his help with the giant bowl of masa that remained.
He wasn't listening. Instead, he looked into her eyes as though he'd never seen them before.
"Jake?"
He brushed back a lock of hair from her forehead, wiping a trail of masa from the fine hairs framing her face. The hairs moved past his fingers with a light tickle.
"Gracie." He ran his fingers across the strands again, seeming completely lost in his thoughts. "Thank you."
"For what?"
She couldn't believe it could be this easy. She hated letting bad memories crowd her mind while her heart was feeling so light, but she had to be honest. David and Jake came from the same world, so Gracie knew this moment of having Port Provident's prodigal son fitting in so easily with her immigrant family couldn't last. She didn't want to feel those feelings of rejection based on her heritage again.
So Gracie closed that door on her heart tightly, like the lid of the steamer Mamí was using to cook and soften the tamales.
"For letting me see that not every family works the same way as mine. My father only cared about his business. My mother only cared about being seen in the right places. My sister and I had each other, but we never experienced what you have right here in this room, except for when we spent time with Nana."
"Cara's in labor. I need to head to the clinic." Gloria's interjection unintentionally broke the connection encircling Gracie and Jake. "You can take it from here, Private Peoples. Make me proud, soldier."
Heading out the door, Gloria returned a bigger version of the salute Jake had given her at the start of the tamale preparations. Gracie viewed it as a sign of approval. Just as he had revealed over time with her, Jake's sincere side won out over the strictly business façade he tried so hard to maintain. Gracie wished he'd put this genuine and fun part of his personality front and center instead of trying to be someone he thought everyone else wanted him to be. How could she demonstrate to him the value of who God created Jake Peoples to be?
"Jake, are you planning to come to the fund-raiser at La Iglesia de la Luz del Mundo tomorrow?" Mamí sealed another bag of a dozen tamales as she talked.
Of course he wasn't. Gracie knew that answer before Jake even spoke. Tonight's adventure in Hispanic culture had to be a one-time thing, a break to keep Jake's mind off what lay around the corner for him tomorrow. Jake walked over to the sink, turned on the water and began washing his hands.
"What time does it start? I'd like to come."
Gracie's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what she just heard. She hoped no one else noticed her shock. They'd think she was rude—and she knew better than to bring up the past with Jake around her parents, who were still angry about how their daughter had been treated years ago.
Jake raised his voice to be heard over the flowing faucet. "My board meeting starts at three o'clock. I don't know how long it will last. But since they've apparently already decided on the outcome, it probably won't take long." Jake turned to the paper towel dispenser in the corner. It hid his face, but not the flat tones of his voice.
"We'll be celebrating your confirmation tomorrow night at the church, Jake. Nothing is final yet." Carlos opened another soda, swapping out Jake's empty bottle on the table.
"That's right, Jake." Gracie's mother chimed in from her spot near the steamer. "If God wants you at the head of your company, nothing will stand in your way."
Jake nodded wordlessly.
"I can see that you're not convinced, young man, but Juanita is right. Look around you." Carlos spread his arms. "I should still be a cook in a small Mexican resort town. But here I am, in the greatest country in the world. I own my own restaurant. It's not the biggest restaurant in Port Provident, but I will have been open for twenty years next month. Plus, I get to work every day with the love of my life." Carlos crossed the kitchen and stood next to Jake at the sink. He placed his hand on Jake's shoulder. "That's God, Jake. If your dream is to run your family's company, it's because He's placed it there."
"Thanks, Carlos." Jake nodded again. "I wish I had the same confidence as you."
Carlos kept his calloused hand on Jake's shoulder, conveying fatherly approval through his touch. "It's not confidence, Jake. It's faith."
Three hours passed in Huarache's kitchen before Jake realized it. He'd stayed busy and the conversation had surrounded him so completely that he'd never even thought to check his watch. As Juanita sealed the last tamale in the last plastic bag, Jake found himself wishing the evening wasn't coming to a close.
From the moment he stepped through the door, the Garcia family welcomed him—even when they didn't have a reason to, since he'd almost bailed on them at the last minute. After spending time in her parents' presence, Jake better understood why he couldn't stop thinking about Gracie.
Carlos and Juanita had spent their years in Port Provident building a business, not because they were entitled to or because they would impress others, but because they desired to honor God's blessings in their lives. Gracie and her sister, the next generation, followed their parents' example.
How different from the way his father had run the Peoples family business and how Jake himself was raised.
"Jake, do you mind giving me a ride back to my place?" Gracie threw a sponge over his head and into the sink as she passed him.
He loved this relaxed side of her. Apparently, the time in the kitchen kept her from the worries about her business as well. "Of course. Happy to."
Jake would be grateful for the few more minutes to spend in her presence. He'd love to draw this enjoyable evening out as long as possible. "Would you like me to pick you up for the fund-raiser tomorrow? I can have Anne call you and let you know when the meeting is wrapping up."
"I only have morning and afternoon classes tomorrow, so I should be through about the same time you are." She finished wiping down the counter, then tossed another sponge into the side of the sink filled with sudsy water.
"Great." He smiled at Gracie just to see her shy smile back turn into a grin. It calmed the nervous quiver that had stayed in his heart since Nana's call.
"You ready?"
"Ready." Jake walked over to Gracie and stood next to her. It seemed like the right thing to do.
She didn't close the few inches of space between them as Jake realized he'd hoped. He couldn't think like that. Tonight had been a welcome break, but he had no certainty in his life after tomorrow. At this point in his life, he needed a friend and nothing more.
"Carlos, Juanita, it was a pleasure meeting you both." Jake extended his hand to Gracie's father.
"Jake, I know you had many reasons not to come, but we are glad you did anyway. It was good to meet you." Juanita gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"I hope my tamales pass the test." Jake laughed, remembering the step-by-step tutorials Gracie's entire family had given him to make the simple, traditional food.
"I'm sure they will." Carlos replied as Juanita nodded in confirmation. "We'll see you tomorrow at the church, Jake."
Gracie gave the nail on her pointer finger a little nibble as her father spoke. "We've got to go, Papí. Jake has a big day tomorrow." She turned toward the door. Gracie seemed to be trying to step out of Huarache's quickly.
"You seemed nervous when your dad was talking." Jake stopped a few steps into the parking lot.
She looked down at her feet. Her words came out muffled as she bit down on another fingernail. "Parents. You never know what they're going to say."
Jake felt that there was more behind Gracie's words, but she stopped short of elaborating further. "I seemed to always have that problem growing up. My mother usually found herself halfway through a bottle of alcohol by lunchtime, so it was usually best that her slurring disguised her words. And my father, well, he'd never heard the adage about not saying anything if you couldn't say something nice. He was all too willing to elaborate on what he saw as my many shortcomings." Jake twisted the corner of his mouth wryly at the memory. "But luckily, neither of your parents seem to have any of those issues."
"No, not at all. They're good people. But sometimes they let their imaginations run away with them." Gracie's eyes looked distant, as though searching for some far-away memory.
Good people. Those words took Jake back to his earlier train of thought about Gracie Garcia and her parents. The Garcias came to America in search of a dream. Through hard work, Gracie had learned a new language, then fulfilled a dream to help others do the same. She opened a small business that changed lives and paid the bills. And her parents had achieved that American dream as well with Huarache's.
Gracie pursued a relationship with a God she knew personally and didn't shy away from making it a part of her life, a trait Jake could now see she inherited from both Carlos and Juanita.
Skeptical Jake even found that refreshing. He didn't know God in such a way, but he admired Gracie's honesty about her faith. Gracie impressed Jake. She hadn't been handed anything and hadn't squandered opportunities. Unlike someone else he could think of. In truth, Gracie was everything Jake hoped he himself could be.
He'd let too many good things go in his life. His new friendship with Gracie couldn't become just another casualty of his own streak of bad luck.
