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As the immediacy of the birth wore off, Rigo had time to notice the demeanor of everyone around him. There wasn’t really much else to do besides sit and wait. The baby was peaceful. Tanna was euphoric, brushing the baby’s downy hair with the tips of her fingers, over and over again. Tía Inez was in her element, delivering advice and suggestions.
Gloria seemed reflective, quietly tidying things up as best she could, keeping the makeshift birthing center comfortable by relighting the candles when they burned low and writing down details of the birth.
As he watched Gloria at work earlier, he found himself unable to take his eyes off her. He’d pursued his career in law enforcement and rescue because he liked the thrill, the chase. The constant of never knowing what would come next—and the adrenaline buzz that came along with it.
Gloria was different, though. She directed Tanna’s birth without lights, without equipment, without conveniences, in a manner that connected strongly to birthing women throughout the ages before hospitals and delivery rooms. In spite of the uncertainty, he never saw fear when Gloria was in that room. She had to have been scared by the hurricane—he knew he was—but even so, he only saw the actions of a woman who was uniquely called to do that very career. Not because she chose it. Because it chose her.
The stubbornness he used to chide her for. The single-minded focus he used to try and break through his teasing. The drive to accomplish exactly the path set in front of her. It was all still there, more than a decade later.
So, too, were the things he’d been attracted to as a teenager. The soft glow that caused her topaz eyes to glitter when she got truly excited about something. The fierce protectiveness that took complete care of and responsibility for anyone in her inner circle. And the petite frame that made her look like a tiny, sweet package, like a dulce de leche candy you could tuck in your pocket and carry with you. Looking at Gloria, people might first disregard her—until they later learned they did so at their own peril.
He’d figured she’d changed over the years, like everyone did, although he hadn’t been close enough in a long time to know for sure. He’d left to pursue a crazy youthful dream. Then, she’d kept her distance from him when he returned and was on the force with Felipe. Afterward, Rigo had his own strength to find, and had removed himself from Port Provident and Gloria’s circle entirely.
But now back, face-to-face with the woman who appeared in all of his best memories—and at the center of his worst—Rigo saw nothing had changed.
She was a truly unique mixture of dewdrop soft and hurricane fierce.
Just like what was going on around them.
Even the wind seemed to be slowing outside. Rigo left the room and sat at the top of Inez’s staircase, watching the water level bob and shake around the steps below. Swarms of bugs floated on top in little clumps. He checked his watch. It was 2 a.m.
Rigo’s ears noticed a change outside. He clicked the switch on the old weather radio he’d brought out of the room with him, hoping it would spring to life and confirm what he thought was about to happen.
“The National Weather Service is reporting that the eye of Hurricane Hope will make landfall within the next twenty minutes. Citizens of Port Provident are still encouraged to exercise extreme caution during this time.”
Rigo shut off the radio. He’d heard exactly what he needed to hear.
“Gloria,” he shouted. “Gather up what you need. Everyone needs to put on their sturdiest shoes, quickly. The eye of the storm is almost here. We’re taking Tanna and the baby to the command center at the Grand Provident Hotel. It’s the safest place on the island for them. For all of us.”
From the bedroom, he heard his aunt’s steady voice. “I told you He’d calm the storm.”
Rigo didn’t want to point out that every hurricane had an eye. It would have been disrespectful to suggest such a thing out loud. Besides, he didn’t have any time to waste.
Wading through the chest-deep water in the front of the house, Rigo tried not to think about the possibility of rats or snakes taking refuge in the living room. He’d already seen the bugs, small armies that had hitched themselves together to float in baseball-sized groups. That was enough. He reached blindly below the surface of the water, trying to grab the doorknobs to the double doors and force them open. The water level was the same outside as inside. Dormer windows and the angles and points of roofs were all that he could see on the smaller, one-story craftsman-style homes and cottages. Everything looked like children’s toys in a very dirty bathtub.
“Is everyone ready? We’ve got to go.”
At the top of the stairs, Rigo could make out three dim shadows. Inez stood in front, with Gloria providing a steadying hand behind the older woman’s elbow. “Tanna, stay here. I’ll come back to help you and the baby,” Gloria said.
Rigo stood on the bottom stair and tried to hold the small jon boat steady where it floated, tethered still to the banister.
“Gloria, reach out and hold the boat. I’ll come up and lift Tía in.”
He switched places with Gloria. Even though she stood two steps up from where Rigo had been, the water came almost to her chin. But she kept a steady grip on the lip of the boat, pushing it up against a wall for more security. Rigo lifted Inez and slowly turned on the step, careful not to slip and fall. He sat her gently on the small platform in the front.
“Ok, Tía, can you make it to that second little bench? Just hold on tight. Crawl if you need to.”
Inez nodded her head and began to inch, crab-like, toward the back of the little craft. “I can do it.”
“Stay there, Gloria. I’ll get Tanna.” Rigo walked to the top of the stairs, water rolling down his back. He’d spent most of his life in the water, surfing and lifeguarding, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been as thoroughly soaked as he was right now.
Carefully, he picked up the dozing bundle from Tanna’s arms. Her eyes widened with fear—not only for herself, but now for her new child. “I’m going to hand him to Tía,” he said.
Step by step, he made it down the slick wooden stairs. “Holá, Mateo,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re going to be safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Rigo was scared to think about the five of them floating in the small boat through what had been the streets of Port Provident, especially if the eye was narrow and closed soon. But he was even more scared to keep a newborn and its mother in a flooded, bug-infested house with half a hurricane still left to go.
He leaned as far across the boat as he could get, and Tía reached out her arms. Little Mateo was on board. Time to get Tanna.
Her feet were unsteady. Placing an arm under her knees and one under her arms, Rigo scooped her up and made his way down the stairs again. Resting her on the front platform, he tried to scoot her as far in as possible. He held her hand as she wobbled toward the seat next to Tía, then took her baby back in her arms.
Only one more passenger to get aboard and then they could leave.
“Let me help you, Gloria.” She’d climbed a few steps higher, and the boat started to bob once she lifted her hand off the hull.
Rigo put his hands around Gloria’s waist tightly. He remembered picking her up and swinging her around during summers at the beach. There wasn’t anything else similar to those days right now, except confirmation of his earlier train of thought.
In more ways than one, Gloria hadn’t changed a bit.
On the other hand, he sure hoped he had.
He’d been to places he wasn’t proud of and done plenty of things he’d regretted, and one day, he knew he’d need to come clean to Gloria if there was any hope of putting things right between them. But for now, he’d do the next best thing and keep her and those who depended upon her safe.
Gloria got settled on the small bench seat next to Tanna. Rigo untied the boat from the railing, turned it around and swam behind, pushing it through the oversize frame of the turn-of-the-century door. The edges of the boat brushed the edges of the door. It barely fit, with only a feather’s width to spare.
“Everyone duck.” The women in the boat bent their heads low. Their bodies cleared the top of the door frame by just about a foot.
Well, that was a first. He’d spent his whole life on the coast, but never before had he floated a boat out the front door of a home. Tying the boat hastily to the railing of the porch, Rigo climbed up on the rail, then worked his way into the boat, untying it once he was safely inside. He sat in the back next to the trolling motor and fired it up. He was soaked to the bone with sticky, salty brackish water.
“Everyone ready?”
No one replied. The only affirmation was the nodding of heads. Everyone indicated they were ready, but like Rigo, he imagined none of them knew exactly what for.
The sky on the horizon line glowed teal, almost as crisp and shining as the water off the Baja Peninsula on Mexico’s Pacific Coast, where he’d once loved to surf. He’d never seen colors like that in the air before. Above him, he could see stars. A few seagulls squawked and circled overhead, likely as disoriented as he was.
“The eye of the storm. Not many people on earth can say they’ve seen this,” he said to the passengers.
Gloria looked up at the sky, her face showing amazement in the soft moonlight and turquoise glow. Tanna kept her head down, looking at baby Mateo.
They headed south toward the Grand Provident Hotel, where Rigo hoped there would be power from backup generators, some drinking water and a plan.
Inez’s hands were folded serenely in her lap. She didn’t intently stare like Gloria, nor was she avoiding the view like Tanna. She seemed calm, almost like this was an everyday occurrence for her. A gust of wind touched the back of Rigo’s soaked shirt giving him a chill, and he could see Gloria’s short hair ruffling with the breeze.
This respite from the chaos wouldn’t last much longer. They needed something stronger than just himself to get them all to the Grand Provident, but even after Inez’s words to them all earlier, he knew he couldn’t do what his heart was telling him to do. Not in front of Gloria. He didn’t know exactly why. He’d started attending the earliest services at La Iglesia de la Luz del Mundo—that service chosen specifically because he knew Gloria attended the later service, and he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene or be in her way.
But still, he just couldn’t be close to God while he was close to Gloria.
“Hey, Tía, I think you’d better pray.”
“I have been all night.” She smiled a knowing smile. “Haven’t you noticed He’s been here?”
Rigo’s hand slipped a bit off the motor’s handle. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way. Mateo broke the night’s temporary stillness with a little wail, a further reminder that he came into the world with a healthy set of lungs.
Even though he had to navigate through the help of street signs just barely poking their green metal rectangles above the waterline, the trip was relatively uneventful and took less time than Rigo had planned.
They motored up to the parking lot behind the hotel. Rigo hopped overboard and waded to a palm tree, where he tied the boat. He saw others with flashlights standing on the wall surrounding the pool area of the hotel, presumably also watching the once-in-a-lifetime experience of standing inside a hurricane’s eye wall. He waved his own flashlight in signal to the group above. Two men threw their legs over the wall and started down the side of the waterlogged hill to come help.
Maybe Tía Inez was right. Maybe—just maybe—Rigo noticed, God really had been with them all night.
A few emergency doctors from Provident Medical had assembled a small clinic inside of one of the meeting rooms in the hotel. They quickly escorted Tanna and the baby up. One doctor insisted on checking Tía Inez out, as well. Gloria handed over her notes from the birth, relieved to have other medical professionals confirm that both baby and mother—and aunt—had checked out fine. Assured that the two women and youngest refugee would be taken care of and transported to a hospital on the mainland for observation as soon as the storm cleared, Gloria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d even been holding.
The past several hours had all run together. All of her training had kicked in and she’d just done what she needed to do. But now the immediate danger was no longer resting squarely on her shoulders and they were safe, surrounded by local officials, police and doctors in the safest building in town and she could release that burden. Gloria tried, but she couldn’t even feel relief. All she felt was tired.
Inez reached toward Gloria from the couch she had been instructed to lie on. “Gloria, come here.”
Gloria slipped her hand into the older woman’s thin grasp. Her hand felt cold. So much time spent in wind and rain. Gloria wondered if any of them would ever be dry or warm again. Or safe. Would the memories of tonight mark them all forever?
“How are you feeling, Inez?”
“Like a drowned rat.” The older woman shuddered, making her gray hair shake. “I think I saw a few on the boat ride over here, too. Yuck. But they’re bringing me some dry clothes. That should help. I think they’re bringing some for you, too.”
Gloria wondered what kind of dry clothes they had in a hurricane command center. Probably not anything that would show up on a catwalk—in Paris, France, or Paris, Texas. “I’m glad you’re okay, Inez.”
Inez smiled. The deep lines around her face stretched out, and Gloria could see the neighborhood beauty she used to be. “You don’t have to be afraid to be around Rigo, you know.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” Gloria tried not to snap. Just because she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary around him didn’t mean she was afraid of him.
“You’re afraid of something. You know, God doesn’t give you a spirit of fear. He gives strength to His people.”
The corner of her mouth twisted downward. Gloria didn’t want to talk about God and she didn’t want to speak badly about the woman’s favorite nephew, but Inez had to know the history. Everyone in the La Missión neighborhood knew the story behind Gloria and Rigo, from high school until after Felipe’s death.
She was the star of a real-life soap opera in her own backyard.
“No, really, I’m not afraid of anything.” Gloria tried to sound reassuring. She tried to end this line of conversation. Couldn’t they talk about something more palatable? Say, the hurricane winds, which were again howling outside, wrecking even more of their hometown?
“Gloria, I know a lot has happened between you and Rigo.”
Could Inez read her mind? Maybe not, Gloria decided. “A lot” was mild compared to how she would have described it.
Gloria waved her hand, noncommittally. “It’s in the past, Inez. Really. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Inez shook her head again. “No. We do.”
The strength in her voice hit Gloria like a punch to the stomach. Clearly, Rigo’s aunt was going to have her say.
“You think he’s responsible for Felipe’s death. And your son’s. You think he left you high and dry after high school and again after the funeral.” Her gaze was unwavering. “Don’t deny it. I know su madre. Your mother’s submitted many a prayer request to our Bible study group on your behalf over the years.”
Gloria had no choice but to silently nod. Every word was true.
“And, Gloria, maybe he could have done things better over the years. Maybe you could have, too. He’s had to learn a few lessons—some the hard way. But the simple fact is that God can work all things to good for those who love Him. The Bible says so. The question is, do you love Him?”
She wasn’t expecting the conversation to take this turn. She felt her heart miss a beat.
“Who? Rigo?” She had, once.
“No, silly girl. God. Do you love Him?”
She had, once, too. Now she didn’t know Him anymore. She sat in church, week after week, month after month, year after year, too afraid to not go. And too afraid to let her guard down and ask for the help she needed.
“I did. But then He took everything away from me.” Her voice sounded quiet, even to her own ears. The syllables sounded flat. Just like her spirit the past two years.
Inez gave her hand a light squeeze, just like Gloria had seen her do earlier today to comfort Tanna through the pain of childbirth. It felt unexpectedly reassuring. “Just like you, I’ve lost a husband. And I’ve lost a son. I know how much it hurts. Remember what Job said?”
Gloria shook her head.
“God gives, and God takes away. And that He does, mija. It’s part of life. And we won’t always know the reason on this side of Heaven. But I do know that it is so. Just like this hurricane will sweep out the old and in time, bring in repairs and new buildings and a fresh look to Port Provident—I know it will because it’s happened after every single hurricane. Something so terrible as that wind and water outside can spark something new. The same is true in our own lives.”
Gloria stayed unusually silent. She didn’t even know how to take in what Inez was saying. Part of her wanted to bristle at her words and her assumptions about Gloria’s heart and life. But that prickly feeling was smoothed over a bit by knowing she was just an old woman who wanted to do some good.
If only words could wash away things as easily as the rain. But even though she wanted to believe what Inez was saying, it just wasn’t that simple.
“If a hurricane tears off a roof or washes away a building, you can fix it up or build it back. It just takes some time and the right materials.” Gloria looked down at her feet. She couldn’t meet Inez’s gaze. “But Felipe and my Mateo, they’re not coming back. There’s no work I can do to change that.”
Inez put a finger under Gloria’s chin and pressed upward, forcing her to look up.
“You’re right. There’s nothing you can do. But that’s not what I said. I said He works all things to good. Why don’t you try letting Him work for a change? You don’t have to do everything. Think about what I’m saying.” She pulled her hand away. “Now, then. It’s been a long night for all of us. I’d like to get some rest. Can you go see if they’ve found my dry clothes?”
Gloria left Inez’s makeshift bed in search of the young doctor who had been attending them earlier. As she stepped into the main hallway of the hotel, she spotted Rigo talking with some officers near a table covered in piles of papers. He’d changed into a new pair of swim trunks and a T-shirt with a blue Port Provident Beach Patrol logo on the back. A pair of cheap black flip-flops had replaced the soggy work boots on his feet.
She was drawn to the cuts on the back of his tanned calves. Some were superficial scrapes, but a few were deeper and covered with new scabs. Clearly, they’d all happened sometime between shuttling her and Tanna to safety and protecting all of Port Provident from Mother Nature. She knew all the salt water he’d walked in had to have stung each and every one of those scrapes and exposed them to infection. And yet, he never said a word.
What had Inez meant when she’d said he’d had to learn some lessons the hard way? Not for the first time in the past day or so, Gloria wondered just where Rigo had been for two years before he returned to take the chief’s role at Beach Patrol. Was that what Inez spoke of? Or something else?
Dr. Stephenson, the young ER doctor who had been checking on Inez, turned the corner. In her hands was a pile of shorts and T-shirts with some socks on top. Gloria chuckled inside at the thought of proper Inez Vasquez in a pair of board shorts and an old T-shirt instead of the floral embroidered dresses she wore every day of her life. But at least they’d be dry.
“Gloria. I finally found what I was looking for. I have clothes for you and for Mrs. Vasquez and Tanna. For now, we’re just going to have to use what spare towels and T-shirts we can find as swaddling and diapers for the baby. We should have everyone taken care of in no time.” Dr. Stephenson reached out a pair of blue shorts and a T-shirt and handed them to Gloria. “I think the shorts are going to be a little big for you, but they have a drawstring, so you should be able to get them to fit, more or less. Most of the spare clothes they had in the work room were in men’s sizes. Here’s a blanket, too, in case you’re still cold.”
Gloria smiled. It would be good to peel off some of the layers—almost like shedding a very sodden layer of skin. “Thanks, doctor. I’m just going to step into the bathroom across the hall and change. Do you need me for anything?”
She shook her head, making her brown ponytail bounce. “No, we’re good. I’m going to make sure that Mrs. Vasquez and Tanna get a nap, since we still have a few more hours before we can even think about getting them out of here. The best thing for them will just be to rest. For you, too. Why don’t you come lie down on one of the couches in the clinic, too?”
It sounded appealing, Gloria had to admit, since she felt as if she hadn’t truly rested in days. But she knew her body’s signals pretty well and she knew she was still too keyed up to sleep just yet. “Maybe in a little bit. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.” Dr. Stephenson turned and headed back toward her patients in the clinic. Gloria walked to the bathroom and into the handicapped stall to give herself more room to change. Everything was wet and brown from the muck of the past day. The whole outfit reminded her of nothing but chaos, and she discarded it all in a heap on the tile floor. She slid a pair of too-big socks on her feet and wiggled her toes in the warm softness.
When she was done changing, Gloria threw the blanket over her shoulders. She kicked the wet pile of clothes out of the stall with her foot and took her tennis shoes to the hand dryer. She tried to convince herself that a couple of cycles of hot air had made her shoes a little less wet. But she decided against putting them back on just yet. She held them, pinched between two fingers, then awkwardly picked up the stack of wet clothes and shoved them in the trash can.
“Good riddance,” she said as the door shut behind her. “I don’t ever want to see—or smell—you again.”
As she approached the makeshift clinic, she saw Rigo just outside the door. “Looks like everyone is doing well. All three of them are resting, and the doctor said they should be fine. She’s eager to get Tanna and the baby off the island for observation once the coast is clear, though. She’s insisting Tía go, too, because of her age. I don’t want to be the one to tell Tía that when she wakes up.” He laughed and shook his head.
Gloria nodded in agreement, remembering their earlier conversation. Rigo’s tía had a will of iron. She would almost assuredly put up a fight and insist that she was perfectly fine. But considering the conditions that would be revealed on the island once the storm passed, it would be better for her health to leave.
“Hey. Nice shirt.” Rigo pointed at the small logo on the front of Gloria’s new clothes.
She’d been so grateful just to have dry clothes that she hadn’t really even paid attention. She was wearing the same design as Rigo, a Port Provident Beach Patrol logo shirt. They looked like twins. Gloria couldn’t stop the loud laugh that popped out of her throat.
“What’s so funny?” Rigo looked at her, slightly sideways.
“Remember junior year when I asked you to the Sadie Hawkins dance and we wore those ridiculous matching, rainbow-striped, rugby jersey shirts?”
Rigo leaned his head back and rolled his eyes. He laughed right along with Gloria. “And the khaki pants with the woven belts and loafers. I hated Sadie Hawkins—no offense. It was bad enough having to wear a penguin suit at prom, but having to dress alike for Sadie Hawkins was just too much.”
But then he broke into a grin and bared his front teeth. The white of the enamel stood out brightly, surrounded by his deep black far-more-than-five-o’clock shadow. She felt warmer, all the way down to her chilly toes in the new, dry socks.
“But the company more than made up for it. Thanks again for asking me. We did have some good times, didn’t we, Glo?”
A lot has happened between you and Rigo...
Inez’s recent words rang in Gloria’s ears.
A lot had happened. But if she was honest, it wasn’t all bad.
Well, maybe those rugby shirts were.
But they had years of history. And maybe it wasn’t fair for her to erase all the good from her memory and cling only to the bad, like a drowning person clutching a life vest. Maybe it wasn’t fair to have turned her worst moments into her defining moments in her relationship with Rigo—or with anyone, for that matter.
“Yeah, we did. A lot of them, actually.” It surprised Gloria that the words didn’t turn her throat raw. The yawn that followed, however, didn’t surprise her at all.
“You’re tired, Gloria. You need to get some rest.” Rigo reached up and readjusted the blanket she was carrying, gently dropping it across both shoulders. It felt like a gentle hug, comforting and warm at the same time.
“I am. But I can’t sleep. I’d say there’s just something in the air, but that’s an understatement. There’s a lot in the air. About a hundred and ten miles per hour of something.”
Rigo put his hand on her shoulder and guided her to a couch against the wall of the main hallway. “Why don’t you lay down here? I’ve just checked in with the folks I needed to talk to and I don’t need to check back in for a while. We’re going to meet with the dive team in about an hour to put together a plan for rescuing people who stayed in their homes and got trapped by the storm surge. I’ve got some time. How about I just sit here with you until you fall asleep?”
The other end of the hallway bustled with action, but down here by the clinic, it was quiet. And although the couch was tufted and upholstered with a thick brocaded fabric, it looked like the most comfortable bed she’d ever seen.
“But you don’t have to...” She started to protest, reflexively.
He put one finger to his lips and gave a quick “Shush.”
“I don’t have to. I want to. Now lie down.”
Gloria did as she was told, tucking her knees up for warmth and adjusting herself to get as comfortable as possible. Rigo pulled the blanket down around her and tucked it securely under her knees and feet. She felt like a child, when Mamí would tuck her in at bedtime.
Rigo sat on the floor and leaned his head slightly on the edge of the lower cushion. He reached up and took her hand as it lay on top of the blanket. “You’re completely safe now, Gloria. Just rest and get your strength back.”
She wanted to pull back, but it seemed rude. He wasn’t doing anything but trying to help her get to sleep. As the mild haze of sleep began to take over, Gloria noticed that it felt completely comforting to have her hand resting in his, almost as though hands had some kind of muscle memory for movements and feelings of decades ago.
They were surrounded by the finest team of emergency personnel Port Provident could offer. City government, police, fire, EMS, doctors. All of Port Provident’s leaders were here, staying busy with what needed to be done.
The firefighters moved along the hallways, checking for stress fractures in the walls of the hotel as it was battered by the storm. Others, like Rigo’s colleagues, were meeting in huddled groups, mapping out a game plan for how they would assess damage and rescue citizens once the sun rose and the winds and the waters receded.
All of them were at the top of their game tonight.
But could any of them rescue a broken heart?
Gloria fell asleep before she could determine the answer.
