Mama Yolanda stared at Rogelio, a mixture of shock and wonder on her wrinkled face.“Mi Jesus! This is why God called me to pray for the trial!” She sucked her gold tooth, a faraway look appearing in her eyes. She slumped back on the couch as if weighted by the realization, crooked fingers working wrinkles into her dress.
Rogelio watched her in dismay. Didn’t she understand the risk he’d taken? What faced them both when the story was aired? As the hours counted down to Milt’s news report, Rogelio grew more and more anxious.Would reporters soon find their home, bang on their door night and day? Kristin’s door, too? Would they be on Kristin’s side, as Milt had promised? Or would they point at her new car and accuse her of horrible things?
Such unknowns they faced—and all Mama Yolanda could think about was God calling her to pray?
She turned to him suddenly, reached for his hand.“Mijo, I see the look on your face.Do not be afraid. God is watching over us.He has heard my prayers for you and for Roselita.He is changing your heart, and he is protecting her, since she is not in a good home. You think you have done this thing alone. No, mijo. God has led you. He will lead us out of it.”
Rogelio frowned.How could her words be true? He’d never asked God to change his heart.
“Mama Yolanda,” he said, squeezing her hand gently, “can you forgive Kristin for what she’s done? When we have Roselita, I want Kristin …”He could not finish.
“You want Kristin to be her mother.”His grandmother nodded in understanding. “You want me to accept her.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Mijo, I did not want any of this to happen. Still, I forgave Kristin long ago. It is the Christian thing to do. I would love her as I love you and Roselita. But who can know now what she will do? You go see her. Talk to her. I will stay here and pray.”
ROGELIO KNOCKED ON Kristin’s door, his stomach in knots. Of their own accord his eyes pulled toward the fancy black Mustang in her driveway. Her mother’s battered car was nowhere to be seen.
The curtains moved. Rogelio caught a glimpse of a hand.
Silence.
He knocked again.
“Go away, Rogelio; I don’t want to talk to you!”
Her voice, thick with emotion, came from just the other side of the door. The tone told him so much. Rogelio’s heart constricted. She didn’t mean those words. She wasn’t mad at him; she was mad at herself, sick with all she’d done. Longing for her surged through his chest. Even if Roselita never existed, he realized, he’d be right here on her doorstep, trying to get her back.
He gathered his courage. “Kristin, I’m not leaving. I love you. And you love me. I’m tired of this.We’re going to work things out, once and for all. Now let me in.”
Nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying she would listen.
The door clicked open.
She looked at him and her face crumbled. Before he knew it, she had her arms around him. He hugged her back, surprised.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
She led him inside and to the couch, still holding on to him. Rogelio could hardly believe it. “What happened?” he asked.
She sniffed.“I just don’t want to go on like we are—with you mad at me for everything. I just want us to be the way we used to be.”
“We will be, Kristin.”He swallowed. This was going too well; he didn’t want to ruin it.
She stilled, almost as if she’d heard his thoughts. Pulled back and looked deeply into his face. Her expression slackened.
“It’s okay, Kristin, it’s okay.”
She shook her head and looked at her lap.“You haven’t changed. Have you?”
The question ran so much deeper than she could know. He thought of Mama Yolanda’s words. “God has led you.” And of that day—was it only last week?—when he’d thrown down his waxing rag and determined to set things right. “Yes,” he said. “I have changed.”
She raised her chin. “You don’t want the baby anymore?”
He told her then. Everything.About his grandmother’s pain and his guilt. How Mama Yolanda had been praying for the trial. About Delgadia.How afraid he was for Roselita, having such a father.How he’d gone to court and ended up talking to Milt.His words sped up, his muscles tensing as he tried desperately to explain to Kristin, holding her shoulders and forcing her to listen.Her green eyes grew wide, then filled with tears. Rogelio wasn’t sure if they were tears of weary anger, grief, or both.
By the time the words ran dry, his throat ached. Kristin huddled against the arm of the couch, quietly crying. “I don’t want the baby, Rogelio. I don’t know how to be a mother.”
“But you said you were sad to let her—”
“Of course I was sad! You weren’t there. You haven’t seen everything in here.” She thumped a fist against her heart.“You don’t know what it’s like to have a baby and then give her up, and miss her and be glad she’s gone at the same time! You don’t know how many times I wished she was with you, so I could see her. The only thing I could tell myself was that she was in a better home than you and your grandmother could have given her. Now you tell me that’s not true at all.”
“That’s why I had to do something.”
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have talked to that reporter without asking me first.”
“I didn’t have time, Kristin. As soon as I heard how awful Del-gadia is, I had to do something.”
Kristin hid her face in both hands. He slid next to her and drew her close.
“I’m scared,” she said, sobbing. “Tell me everything is going to be okay.”
“It will,” he replied soothingly, rubbing her back. “Everything is going to work out just fine.”
BY TEN O’CLOCK ROGELIO had returned home. Mama Yolanda informed him that he’d had no calls. A disquieting doubt wormed through Rogelio’s brain. Where was Milt? The guy should have phoned long ago.
He waited until ten thirty, then dialed Milt’s cell phone. Four rings. The answering message clicked on. “This is Rogelio, man; where are you? I’ve talked to my grandmother and Kristin. They know about your report tomorrow night. After all this, you’d better come through. Call me.”
By eleven thirty Rogelio’s muscles ached for bed.He’d called two more times—with no answer. Had Milt turned on him? Gotten his story, then left him in the dust? Heaving a sigh, he dialed once more. Milt’s recorded voice grated in his ear.
Rogelio banged down the handset in frustration.