“Dios los cría, y ellos se juntan.”
“God makes them, and they find each other.”

CAROLYN’S WHISPER OF Bryan’s name had been only that, a whisper. Yet he seemed to hear her loud and clear despite the rousing conversations all around them. His expression made it evident that her immediate recognition of him and the soft echo of his name touched him deeply.

Lifting his glass to her, he smiled.

For several unflinching moments they held each other in a visual embrace, taking inventory of what the past quarter of a century had done to the two of them. Broad-shouldered Bryan still had a beachboy look about him, only much more mature and weathered, like someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His once-blond hair was now much shorter and a less sun-bleached shade, a shorn version of the wind-tossed locks that once topped his head. He looked respectable and settled. Steady and tender. And while his face and hair had changed noticeably, his intense, blue-gray eyes hadn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Carolyn hadn’t premeditated her question. It slipped out like a sneeze.

“I came for a funeral. My stepmother passed away last week.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Carolyn was aware of how fast her heart was beating. She tried to come across as calm as Bryan seemed to be and repeated her sentiment. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Your mother was at the funeral. She invited me to come today.”

“Oh, I see.” Carolyn nodded, letting this all sink in. She flipped her hair behind her ear and tried to sort out the details.

My mom didn’t know I was coming. That means Bryan must not have known I was coming today either. This is all a coincidence, right? I can’t believe he’s here.

Bryan reached for a liter bottle of mineral water in the center of the table. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Bryan filled her glass and she took a sip, aware that her hands were trembling.

“So, how have you been?” Bryan’s voice quavered, and for the first time he appeared as unnerved as Carolyn felt.

“Good. How about you?”

“Good.”

Just then Carolyn’s Aunt Sophie leaned over her husband on Carolyn’s right side and held out her cell phone. On the screen was a picture of Rodrigo’s newborn son. Carolyn stared at the picture without really seeing the image. Her contacts seemed to have gone blurry. Her uncle on her immediate right chatted in Spanish about the new baby.

“He’s beautiful.” Carolyn smiled at her aunt and uncle. She could feel Bryan watching her. Part of her wanted to turn her head and meet his gaze once again. Another part of her wanted to move to one of the empty seats at the far end of the table where she could watch him at a distance, as she had so many years ago. Being this close to Bryan still gave her butterflies.

Carolyn’s uncle reached for a plate in the center of the table and presented her with some sort of fish that had been brought to the table with its head still attached. Only a portion of the white meat still clung to the spine, since nearly everyone had finished eating when she arrived.

“No, thank you.” She fidgeted with the napkin in her lap and adjusted the silverware beside her plate. Narrow rivulets of perspiration zigzagged down her back, causing her blouse to cling to her skin.

Motioning for the waiter, Carolyn’s uncle proceeded to order something he apparently thought Carolyn would want. From across the table Bryan pushed a plate toward her that had three small, round slices of crusty bread and a half-empty bowl of red dipping sauce.

“Pan y mojo,” Bryan said. “You remember this.”

She did. The crusty bread with the slightly spicy sauce made from red peppers was a familiar and comforting memory of the islands. Getting something in her mouth and her nervous stomach right away seemed like a good idea.

With a cautious glance to the head of the table, Carolyn saw her mother sitting back, hands folded in her lap, contentedly taking in the moment. A soft smile clung to her lips. She motioned to Carolyn by unfolding her hands, touching her heart, and then giving her daughter a tender, wistful look of motherly affection. Carolyn offered back a smile with two unreliable, wobbly lips.

“So, how long will you be here?” Bryan broke her interlude with her mom.

Carolyn swallowed and sipped the rest of her water without looking up to meet his gaze. “Just until the twenty-first.”

Her fresh salad of mixed greens arrived then, along with a plate of grilled prawns ordered by her uncle.

“Will you be staying with your mother?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been able to get over here to see her often?”

“No.”

“When did you arrive?”

“Last night.”

“Your mother certainly looks well.”

“Yes, she does.”

“It was nice that you could surprise her this way. I remember the women in your family were especially close.”

“Yes, we still are.”

“What about you? Do you have any daughters?”

Carolyn put down her fork. It seemed an odd question for him to ask, but he might well be stretching for topics to discuss. Carolyn hadn’t exactly been helping him with the conversation.

“I have one daughter. Tikki. She’s twenty-three.”

“Tikki? That’s a great name.”

Carolyn repeated the same explanation she had given for years. “She’s named Teresa Katharine for her two grandmothers, and ‘Tikki’ is her nickname. Her dad gave it to her when she was a baby, and it stuck.”

Bryan nodded. Lifting his glass he nonchalantly said, “You married him, then.”

Carolyn looked up. “Yes. I married Jeff.”

He nodded again. His glance went to her left hand, where she still wore her simple gold wedding band.

Carolyn tried not to be obvious as she scanned his hands and saw that he didn’t wear a ring. “And what about you?” She felt eager to move the topic along. The last thing she wanted to do was answer questions about Jeff.

Bryan leaned back and seemed a little less confident than he had come across earlier. “I’m not married. I have one son, Todd. He got married just last year to a really great girl. Woman, I guess I should say. They’re doing well.”

Just then a large cake was delivered to the table on a wheeled cart, and the conversation with Bryan came to a halt as all the attention went to the cake and Abuela Teresa. Right behind the cart Rosa appeared, waving at everyone and dispensing kisses and a dramatic explanation of why she was so late. Carolyn wondered what would have happened if she had stayed at the apartment with Rosa instead of taking the cab. Would Bryan still be at the party? What if he had left, and they hadn’t seen each other?

She stole a quick glance at him as the candles were lit. His focus was on Carolyn’s mother, who rose at the head of the table. With dignity, Abuela Teresa thanked everyone for coming, carrying on the conversation with first a sentence in Spanish and then the translation in English. She did it effortlessly as she told the guests she was a blessed woman. She didn’t need to make a wish when she blew out her candles, she said, because God already had given her all her birthday wishes by allowing her to be there with them. God had even added a beautiful surprise, she said, by sending her an extra-special gift that came on an airplane over the ocean and was there, seated at her table. She extended her hand in a graceful gesture toward Carolyn.

Everyone applauded. Carolyn put her hand on her heart and smiled at her mother the way her mother had gestured to her earlier. Even with all the relatives and friends at the table and with Bryan sitting across from her, Carolyn still felt as if she was there for her mother, and her mother knew it. The specialness she had hoped to add to this day had unfolded. That realization had a calming effect on her wildly tossed emotions.

As photos were being snapped, the Birthday Queen faced her many-layered cake and blew out the seven tall candles, one for each decade. The cheers around the table were followed by toasts and laughter. Generous slices of cake were passed around. From underneath the table and from out of purses and bags an unexpected flock of gifts rose and made their way to the end of the table, where they all perched in front of the guest of honor. The gifts were presented to her with a humility and eagerness Carolyn didn’t think she had ever connected with gift giving in the United States. The image that came to mind was of well-loved subjects presenting the first fruit of their harvest to their sovereign.

Carolyn had a few small gifts for her mom but had left them in her suitcase, thinking it would be nicer to give them to her in private. Now she wished she had brought them to add to the bounty.

Abuela Teresa opened each gift slowly, as had been her habit at every birthday and Christmas Carolyn remembered. Her mother made grand exclamations over each one, as if the present she just had unwrapped was the only one she had received and therefore was her favorite. Carolyn noticed the way her mother made eye contact with each gift giver and thanked them warmly. She had forgotten how much her mother relished the art of gift receiving. Carolyn never had met anyone who was as good at appreciating even the smallest gift.

The conversation went on around the table well after the cake had been served. Coffees were ordered. No one was in a hurry to go anywhere. One of the uncles was talking to Bryan in fragmented English, so Carolyn slid her chair back and decided this would be a good chance to make an exit for the restroom.

Her mother reached for her hand as she passed by. She pressed Carolyn’s hand to her cheek. “You have made me so happy today.”

“Good. That’s what I hoped for.”

“Isobel told me how she kept you hidden from me in her apartment.”

“I know. It was terrible to hear your voice and be just on the other side of the kitchen wall this morning.”

“Yes, but now we are together. I’m so happy. How long do I get to keep you?”

Carolyn didn’t want to tell her mother how short this visit was going to be. She avoided giving a definitive answer. “Long enough for you and me to make every minute of every day count and enjoy it completely.”

Her mother’s brown eyes warmed, as she patted her clever daughter on the cheek. “Mi niña. Te amo.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

Carolyn kissed her mother and forced herself not to glance at Bryan as she slipped away from the table and wound her way back through the restaurant to the restroom located near the entrance. Most of the lunch crowd had cleared out, making for quieter conversations between those lingering at the tables at the front of the dining area that faced the ocean.

She found the restroom and was once again reminded that she was no longer in San Francisco. The restroom was very small and gave every indication that it had been used excessively during the busy lunch hour. At least she was able to figure out how to turn on the water. She held a damp paper towel to the back of her neck and let the cooling effect help to calm her as she exited the bathroom. Carolyn felt as if she could go back to the table and finish out the luncheon with more polite conversation with Bryan, and that would be that. She shouldn’t be this rattled. Bryan and all the memories connected with him belonged in the past.

Carolyn stepped out of the restroom and immediately saw Bryan standing a few feet away beside a potted plant. He seemed to be waiting for her. She coached herself to remain composed and to let him speak first.

Bryan rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Carolyn, there’s something I’d like to say to you.”

She waited, feeling her heart speed up.

Coming closer to her and lowering his voice, he said, “I actually never thought I’d have the chance to say this to you face-to-face. But, Carolyn, I want to apologize.”

She opened her lips to reply. When no sound came out, she pressed them together and remained frozen in place.

“I know this might come out all wrong, but I’m going to try to say it anyway.” His voice quavered. “I didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated, and I want to apologize for that. I could say that I was young—we were both young—but I don’t want to use that as an excuse. What I did that last night on the beach, the way I treated you, wasn’t good. I hope you can forgive me.”

Carolyn felt so caught off-guard the only thing she could think to say was, “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I think I do.”

“Well, we both were making impulsive choices, and I apologize, too, for not … for being …” She didn’t know how to form the words.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else, Carolyn. I think I should take the greater responsibility in what happened. I know that I wasn’t making very good choices at that time in my life. I think I’ll leave it at that. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve long regretted how things ended between you and me.”

“I do too.” She felt embarrassed to be talking about this. His words and posture were so sincere. Inwardly, she was trying to untangle the Bryan that stood in front of her from the daring, rebellious Bryan she had known so long ago. What made the situation even more convoluted was that, ever since the fiasco with Ellis less than a month ago, she had convinced herself she couldn’t trust any man, no matter how sincere he seemed to be.

“Well.” Bryan let out a breath and leaned back. “I won’t make this any more awkward than it is. I wish you the best, Carolyn, and I hope you have a nice visit with your mother.”

“Thank you. I hope the rest of your visit is good too.”

“Actually, I’m on my way home. My flight leaves in less than two hours. I need to get to the airport.”

“Oh. Well, then, I hope you have a safe trip home.”

“Thanks.” Bryan rubbed the back of his neck again. “Well, good-bye, Carolyn.”

Her throat tightened. At last the moment for closure had come. Now it was her turn to say her line. “Good-bye, Bryan.” Those were the two lines that had never been exchanged that summer so long ago.

He wavered, appearing to want to lean close and offer a traditional kiss on the cheek in their parting. Instead he gave her a final nod. “I hope you’ll tell that husband of yours that he’s a blessed man.”

“My husband?” Carolyn realized in the flow of their nervous conversation at the table she had said that she had married Jeff but then the focus had turned to Bryan. He didn’t know what had happened.

Bryan looked at her more closely and seemed to be quickly glancing again at her ring finger. “I thought you said you married Jeff.”

“I did. We were … but we’re not … he’s …” Carolyn really didn’t want to answer any questions about Jeff at the moment.

Bryan’s expression changed from surprised to a tender sadness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize …” He glanced at his watch and looked back at Carolyn. “I hate to say this, but if I don’t leave now, I’m going to miss my flight. I have to go. I wish I didn’t have to leave like this.”

“No, it’s fine.” Carolyn found a staid sort of smile coming to her face as soon as she capped her emotions. The last thing she wanted was to be in that horrible place where she tried to explain the details of Jeff’s death, and Bryan, the stunned listener, would flounder for the right thing to say. It was better to leave that topic unexplored.

He leaned in, this time giving her a gentlemanly cheek-brushing-cheek sort of farewell, which she interpreted as an expression of sympathy. There was no mistaking, though, that the closeness even for that brief moment was enough to cause Carolyn to blush. She glanced away, aware that she must be beet red.

She heard Bryan hoarsely speak the parting blessing Carolyn had heard many times from her mother and lots of other relatives on the islands. “Dios le bendiga.”

“God bless you too.” Carolyn looked up and watched him turn and disappear around the corner of the restaurant entrance. With numb steps she returned to the restroom and grabbed a long string of rough toilet paper to dry the tears that had come rolling down her cheeks.

What was that? I don’t even know where to put that encounter and how it affected me.

The close-quartered restroom wasn’t an enjoyable place to be for very long. Probing her deepest feelings was an even less enjoyable place for her to be, and a place she rarely let herself visit. This encounter felt too volatile to cram into the “To Be Figured Out Later” file, where she usually put all the life experiences she had been unable to explain or resolve.

Dabbing away the smudges of mascara from the small amount that still clung to her eyelashes, Carolyn returned to the table. She was determined to hold her feelings inside and make sure the rest of this day was about her mother. That’s why she had come, after all.

Most of the guests were standing, as if they had started to make their departure but then remembered one more thing they wanted to tell someone. Rosa spotted Carolyn and motioned for her to come over.

“Your mom and Isobel want you to ride back to the apartment with them. I’ll come in my car and help to move all the gifts to your mother’s apartment. I can help you with your suitcases too.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Rosa looked closer. “Are you all right? Your eyes are red.”

“Oh, are they? I’m pretty tired.”

“It must be the jet drag,” Rosa said.

“Yes, I think you’re right.” Once again Carolyn didn’t have the heart to correct Rosa.

“This will be good then. You can go to your mother’s place and relax.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Carolyn felt as if she had switched on to automatic pilot. All she wanted was to find a quiet spot to be alone and sleep.

It would be awhile before that happened, though, because every relative had a final hug, a kiss, and a word of affection and good-bye. Both Carolyn and her mother were showered with sweet words. Then it fell to Carolyn, Isobel, and Rosa to consolidate and carry the many gifts to Isobel’s little white car, which was fortunately parked close to the restaurant. If Carolyn had told the cabdriver to take her to La Marinera instead of to Las Canteras, she would have ended up at this side of the bay much sooner. But she didn’t regret her walk to the restaurant. She wished she could walk the same path again now, and let her thoughts sort themselves out.

Climbing into the backseat of the gift-loaded automobile, Carolyn rolled down the window and welcomed the cooling breeze on her face. In the front seat the two sisters conversed in Spanish. Carolyn didn’t even try to pick up what her mother and Isobel were saying until she heard her name in Spanish followed by the name “Bryan.” His wasn’t a name that translated easily into Spanish and therefore stuck out in the conversation even more.

Abuela Teresa turned to face Carolyn with a winsome expression. “We are talking about you.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Isobel wanted to know how you know Bryan. I told her about how you met when you were a teen.”

Oh, dear. This is not good. Once any of my aunts has inside information, she delights in sharing it all around.

Isobel talked rapidly, glancing at Carolyn in the rearview mirror. Carolyn couldn’t catch any of it, so she waited for her mom to translate. The two sisters went back and forth in the front seat for a few minutes before her mom turned again with a well-how-about-that sort of expression.

“Isobel’s neighbor Maria cleans house for Bryan’s stepsister.”

Carolyn tried to make all the connections. “Wait. So, Maria is the one who has the baby, Gabby?”

“Sí,” Isobel chimed in.

“And Maria cleans house for Bryan’s stepsister. What’s her name?”

“Angelina.”

“Right. I remember. She’s a lot younger than he is, right? She was a toddler when I was here last. So now she’s married and Isobel’s neighbor Maria cleans house for her. Got it.”

“Sí, Angelina Esquierzo.” Isobel said the name with flair as if Carolyn should recognize it.

“Is Bryan’s stepsister famous or something?”

“She is married to a man who is, shall we say, high ranking in the local politics.” Abuela Teresa raised her eyebrows and went on. “Maria said that, when she was cleaning the other day, she overheard an argument with Angelina and her husband. It was about her mother’s will. Angelina assumed her mother would leave everything for her, but her mother left the house to Bryan. Isobel just made the connection now of who Bryan is. She didn’t know he was Angelina’s stepbrother.”

Abuela Teresa turned to her sister and asked something in Spanish. Isobel had a long, animated response.

With eyebrows raised once again, Carolyn’s mother said, “Well! This is getting interesting. Apparently the conclusion of the argument was that Angelina promised her husband she would offer Bryan a small amount of money if he would sell the house to her. Since he does not live here, it would be more difficult for him to clear all the paperwork on the land titles. While the house is old, the property is large enough to build four houses, and this is what Angelina’s husband plans to do.”

Carolyn felt sorry for Bryan. No thugs of any sort should be allowed to get away with such actions. A vivid sense of anger over failed justice rose up inside her. “What do you think he’s going to do?”

“I don’t know. He’ll probably have to stay here for some time to work it out.”

“But he left the island,” Carolyn said.

“He did?”

“Yes. I saw him as he was on his way out of the restaurant, and he told me his flight was leaving in less than two hours.”

Abuela Teresa and Isobel exchanged glances. Their expressions of shared surprise changed to a mix of concern and pity.

“That would be the answer then,” her mother said with an air of finality, as if it was clear that he had signed the papers, taken Angelina’s money, and left for the United States.

“Que lástima,” Isobel said.

“Yes, it is,” Abuela Teresa agreed. “Such a pity. If he left the island, we can be sure that was the last we’ll see of Bryan Spencer.”

The way her mother worded that last sentence, the finality of it all, hit the tender spot that had opened in Carolyn’s well-protected heart when Bryan had apologized.

Before she could stop the flow, a spring of tears pooled in her eyes. She turned to the open window and let the sympathetic island breeze disperse them quickly.

What are you doing? Why are you crying? Get a grip.

For some reason she thought of the woman she had met at the airport in Madrid and how the woman said that, every time she went to her mother’s house, she felt as if she turned into a twelve-year-old. Carolyn understood the feeling. From the moment she had looked across the table at lunch and saw Bryan’s blue-gray eyes that had rocked her world so long ago, she felt as if she had turned into an eighteen-year-old version of herself.

She had to find a place to put all these emotions so that she could return to her forty-five-year-old self. And the sooner the better.