Hidden Hearts (25 page)

“They’re right. That’s the law. It was your responsibility, though, to find him a school.”

Destiny threw up her hands and copped an attitude. “How in the hell am I gonna do that? I got two other kids to support, and I work two jobs. If he’s gonna make trouble and give me a headache, then he can go to work with his uncle. And that’s exactly what he did.”

Penn raised her hand in understanding, and she backed off. “Sorry. I’m just so frustrated,” she said, choking back tears.

“Okay, they have to take your son back now even though they may not want to. The expulsion period is over, and they have a legal obligation to do so.”

Destiny clapped her hands. “That’s what I thought. They lied to me.
Big surprise.”

Penn pulled out her cell phone and found the phone number. CC marveled that in two minutes she was talking with the principal about Felipe’s re-enrollment. It didn’t hurt that she’d mentioned she was an attorney who was thinking of calling the Department of Education. Mother and son left immediately afterward, and Penn warned the boy to stay out of trouble.

The whole exchange took less than ten minutes. At Hartford and Burns the idea was to maximize time and make money, but at Penn’s church office she recognized the goal was exactly the opposite.

Penn handed her the clipboard. “Ready?”

She nodded and they called in the next two names. The young
man who faced her didn’t understand why his former boss told him
he couldn’t qualify for unemployment, but after a quick review of his file she realized he did qualify and told him what to do. Her next interview was with a young couple who’d been kicked out of their apartment even though they had a lease, followed by a destitute woman who needed medicine. The final clients were a little girl and the grandmother who wanted to adopt her, since her own daughter was a meth head and had disappeared.

By the time they crossed off the last name on the clipboard and the lobby was empty, the sun was setting. They filled two boxes with files and folders then walked across the inner courtyard to a covered carport with a gate.

“My only requirement was that my car was safe,” Penn remarked.

They drove back to the east side, and CC paid particular attention as the poverty and blight gave way to wealth and entitlement.

“How did you get involved with this church?”

Penn shrugged. “Hmm, that’s a good question. I’m not sure I remember. I was helping somebody, and then they mentioned that Pastor Renee needed a lawyer. So what did you think?”

“It’s nothing like a real law firm,” she mused, and although she meant it as a compliment, for she’d thoroughly enjoyed making a difference for two hours, Penn saw her reply as a criticism.

“I’m sorry my little card table and folding chairs don’t live up to the Hartford and Burns standard, or is it the clientele?”

“That’s not fair!”

Penn snorted. “Isn’t it? Do you think any of these people would ever get past your lobby? Most of them aren’t educated, don’t speak the language and frankly, they’re just plain tired. They work two or three
jobs,
have several kids and they don’t have the energy to fight the system. Your firm would only take on the slam-dunk cases and probably screw the client over just because it’s so easy to take advantage of poor people.”

Her voice echoed in the car, and she abruptly stopped talking and put both hands on the wheel. CC stared blankly out the window, stunned by the attack. She’d spent the afternoon helping her and Penn hadn’t bothered to say thank you, and now she was being treated with contempt.

As they sat at a red light, Penn blurted, “So my third question is, do you like being a lawyer?”

“No,” was her flat and immediate reply.

Whether it was the terseness of her response or the simplicity of the answer, Penn said nothing else for the rest of the drive. She’d barely stopped the car, and CC was out the door with her purse and portfolio and heading for the street. 

“CC, wait!”

She ignored her and kept walking.

“Aren’t you going to check and see if Siobhan’s home?” she taunted.

“Why are you being so horrible?” she cried. “You rejected me last night after I kissed you. Then I help you all afternoon but you never say thank you, and now you’re suggesting I want to screw your friend.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say that! You’re the one trying to kick Viv out of her house!”

“I don’t want that to happen! I’m doing everything I can, but no one will tell me anything. I can’t help if I don’t know the whole story.”

She shook her head. “The whole story is too hard for Viv. She can’t tell it.”

“Then you tell it to me.”

She hesitated, thinking about the possibilities. “I don’t know everything either, otherwise I’d know what to do. And you’re the attorney for the other side. I can’t imagine how many ethics we’ve violated today.”

The evening silence drifted between them until she finally asked, “Why are you here?”

CC shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Penn sighed heavily and reached into the car for the file boxes. “I appreciated your help. And whatever you want to do with Siobhan is your business. And about the kiss last night… that was a mistake,” she said, her gaze far away.

“For the record, I don’t want to kiss Siobhan.”

“What about your ex?”

She didn’t have an answer, and she knew Penn would see through a denial. “The jury’s still out,” she said flatly. “But I like you a lot, Penn, and you were right. I am lonely.”

Penn’s biceps bulged under the weight of the pain and suffering of complete strangers in the file boxes she held, but her face was wracked with fear.

She was completely defenseless when CC pressed their lips together in a soft kiss.

“I choose, right?”

December, 1954

I could never get used to Christmas without snow. I loved all of the Iowa winter nights when I’d sit next to the Christmas tree and watch the snow fall, especially during a full moon when all of the flakes looked like tumbling lights. I thought Santa Claus loved us best because it had to be the greatest place in the world to deliver presents. I could just see him grinning as he flew into Cedar Rapids, grateful to be back each year.

While we always had a tree in Phoenix and kept many of the traditions we’d had in Iowa, it wasn’t the same. Something had always seemed to be missing, like the one gift I wanted and never got. But this year I was really looking forward to the holiday.

After our big fight, Mama and I had a new understanding, forever unspoken but present nonetheless. We’d gotten used to Pops’ absence, and when I discovered most of his clothes missing
from his half of the closet, she admitted that he’d moved out.

Will had become a ghost. Once in a while he stole into the kitchen to eat and then disappeared into the night. I knew he still slept in his bed occasionally because I’d hear him climbing the trellis after midnight, but he was gone again before breakfast. I’d seen a letter from the school marked
Urgent!
and
when I asked Mama about it, she said that he’d dropped out and there was nothing she could do about it.

“It’s his life, Vivi. If he wants to spend it hanging with lowlifes then I’ve got no use for him at all.”

For some reason he blamed her for Pops and Shirley West, and he told her once that he had no respect for her at all. She’d told him to get out and never come back. He must have taken that to heart.

I know she longed for the old Will, but she didn’t seem to
miss
Pops at all. I’d never seen her happier. There were people all over the property now as the houses appeared—plumbers, contractors,  electricians, bricklayers—and all of them loved her sweet potato pie thanks to Mac.

Whatever problem they’d had between them was over, and Mac and Kiah spent lots of time at our kitchen table eating and laughing with us. One evening
Will
came through the door unexpectedly just as we were sitting down to dinner. He stopped suddenly at the sight of Mac planted in Pops’ usual spot. He got a sick look on his face and bolted out before she could explain. Several days passed before I heard him climb the trellis again.

People came and went all the time, including Mr. Rubenstein, who was usually accompanied by Miss Noyce. The four of them—Mama, Mr. Rubenstein, Miss Noyce and Mac spent many evenings laughing and talking on the sun porch. Mama wasn’t alone anymore, and it showed on her face.

Sometimes Mr. Munoz joined them. He was the young Latino man who lived next to Mac and Kiah in the second cabin. Mr. Rubenstein had hired him to do all the electrical work. He was quiet and polite, and Mama said he was a true gentleman. The third cabin was occupied by Mr. Benson, a master mason who supervised the many bricklayers building the houses. I didn’t much care for him. He was about a hundred and fifty years old and always scowled. He did his job and kept to himself which was fine by me.

Kiah and I were closer than ever, and I fretted over what to give her for Christmas. She’d liked my drawing so much that I decided to do one of Mac for her. He willingly sat for an entire hour while I did my best to capture his likeness.

When he saw it he said, “You’ve done real good, Vivi. You’re an artist.”

He kissed the top of my head just like I’d seen him do a hundred times with Kiah. It was as if I was his daughter too.

We’d made our Christmas plans that included all of our new friends—Mac, Kiah, Miss Noyce and even Mr. Rubenstein, who would join us for Christmas dinner. When I’d asked him if that was against his religion, he’d laughed and said there was no law against having dinner with friends.

Then on December twenty-third Pops walked through the door.

It was after dinner, and we were doing the dishes when he waltzed in carrying his suitcase. Mama looked up and her jaw dropped.

“Chet, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t a man come in to his own house at Christmastime?” he asked pleasantly.

He’d been living with another woman while everyone whispered behind her back. I waited for her to hurl the cup she was drying at his head. It’s certainly what she would do to me.

But she didn’t. She didn’t seem happy or sad. She didn’t seem like she was really there.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Yes,” he said.

He went upstairs while she raced around the kitchen reassembling the coffeepot we’d just cleaned. When I heard his feet tromping across the ceiling and I was sure he couldn’t hear us, I said, “Mama—”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, pointing at me. “Don’t.”

She returned to the coffee, but I couldn’t let it go. “How can he just come back? Aren’t you furious?”

When she finally looked at me it was with pity. “You’re too young to understand, Vivi.”

And it was just like the last six months had never happened. Will clomped down the stairs the next morning having appeared out of nowhere, and we all sat around the table for breakfast.

“When’s Christmas service?” Pops asked.

“Usual time.
Ten thirty.”

“Is my dress shirt pressed?”

“Of course.”

“Christmas dinner at five o’clock?”

Her fork stopped midway to her mouth, but she quickly recovered. “Yes.”

I started to ask about Mac and Kiah and Mr. Rubenstein and Miss Noyce but she offered me the slightest shake of her head, and I chewed on my waffle instead. Even though Mr. Rubenstein had bought his land and saved him from a life of tending the orange groves, Pops wouldn’t dare break bread with a Jew and a black man. I guessed she would be making phone calls, apologizing to everyone for ruining their Christmas.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I thought about Kiah and Mac having Christmas all alone. I must have looked sad because he noticed.

“What’s wrong, Vivian?”

“Nothing.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with that little black girl you’re so chummy with, would it?”

I swirled my waffle in the syrup. I could feel her eyes on me. I thought about everything I loved about Christmas and when I looked up, I smiled.