A Man's Heart (29 page)

Carrying overnight bags and electronic boarding passes in hand, they went through security with ease and walked to the gate. Matt's parents lived in Waco, Texas. Jules had slept maybe an hour last night, her mind going over every possible scenario. Matt wanted his little daughter back, and his mother was the emissary. Jules wasn't sure how favorably a judge would view his case. He'd been in jail on drug charges more often than not, and was now serving time on murder charges yet he was blood kin.

The commuter was boarding by the time they cleared security. The plane was full. Jules's seat was in the very back of the plane. Cruz sat several aisles up. She stored her bag in the overhead bin, with the assistance of her seatmate, and sat down, fumbling for her seat belt. She hated to fly. No matter how often she did, she mentally kissed the ground when the plane landed.

A change of planes an hour and ten minutes later, and they
were on an MD80 winging their way to Waco. This time Cruz sat in the back of the plane, and she was relegated to a cramped middle seat with a crying infant on the right and a snoring businessman on her left. Jules dozed most of the flight, exhausted from her night of subjective questions. Sophie had spoken little of Matt's parents, saying she'd only met them once.

The flight touched down on time, and she vacated the plane. She waited for Cruz, reaching for his backpack as he exited.

“I can carry my luggage.”

“I know. You're strong and brave, but I'll carry it.” She draped the backpack over her arm and then reached for her light bag. Pain seared her right arm.

“You're making me look like a sissy.”

“Sorry. I'll try to conceal my helpfulness.”

Outside the terminal, they rented a car. “Want a convertible?” Cruz asked.

Waco was hot and dripping humidity. She hated the thought of blistering sun bearing down on them during the long ride, but once they had both thought a convertible was ideal. She didn't want to spoil his fun. “Sure, why not.”

Thirty minutes later they were on the highway heading for the address Cruz had entered into the GPS. Even with the air blaring, the convertible's interior was suffocating. She glanced at Cruz, smiling her enjoyment. An hour later, he pulled into a drive-through. “I'm hungry.”

She was famished, but she hadn't mentioned her hunger. She determined to be silent support, but the thought of a fish sandwich almost overrode her resolute. He pulled to a speaker and cut the engine. The canopy mercifully provided shade. She tried to rearrange her snarled hair, waiting for him to ask
what she wanted, but he pushed the call button and ordered the usual.

“A fish sandwich, hold the tartar sauce, double cheeseburger, two fries, one small, one large, small vanilla diet Coke and a large Dr Pepper.” He rattled off the order as he had done a million times in their lives. Happiness rattled her. He remembered; even the fact that tartar sauce upset her stomach.

Removing his Stetson, he mopped sweat from his brow.

What she feared would be strained silence during the trip never materialized. During lunch they chatted about ordinary things, safe things. The past wasn't mentioned, or as far as she could tell, even thought about.

Later they pulled out of the drive-through and resumed the trip. Twenty miles down the road they got behind a diesel shooting out obnoxious fumes. Jules brought a tissue to her nose and held it until the vehicle mercifully pulled off the road fifteen miles later. Jules was faint with heat. Did she dare ask Cruz to put the top up on the way back to the airport? She didn't want to rain on his parade, but mercy, she was dehydrated and anticipating a heat stroke. How could they have ever thought a convertible was the ultimate vehicle?

It was close to two o'clock when they pulled into a gated community. The car idled as they studied the swank addition. Matt obviously came from money. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“The lady said to push the button, and she'd open the gate.” He studied the panel, pushed a button and momentarily a woman's voice answered. Cruz announced their arrival.

Seconds later the double gates swung open, and they entered the tree-lined street. “4762 Shadowbox.” Cruz noted the address.

The house shouted wealth: three-story brick, four-car garage. Porch boxes with overhanging foliage, striped green and white awnings. They got out of the convertible and walked up the groomed walkway and onto the porch. A gardener trimmed shrubs in front of the house.

Cruz removed his hat and pushed the door chime, and a maid dressed in a gray and white uniform opened the door.

“Cruz Delgado and Ms. Jules Matias.”

Nodding, the woman admitted them to a marble foyer where overhead bamboo fans gently stirred cooled air. “I'll announce you to the Judge and Mrs. Parker.”

Cruz turned to Jules and they simultaneously mouthed, “Judge?”

Within minutes they were escorted to a glassed sun porch where lovely white wicker furniture with blue and lavender floral cushions accented the outdoor setting. A man and woman rose as they approached. The man spoke first. “Mr. Delgado?”

“Yes.” The two shook hands.

“This is Matthew's mother, Jillian.”

Cruz nodded and introduced Jules.

“You were Sophie's best friend,” Jillian noted.

“Yes. We were childhood friends.” Matt must have spoken of his wife's life.

The maid appeared with tall glasses of ice tea containing mint sprigs. The room was a heavenly 70 degrees. The four took a seat.

Jillian appeared to be appointed spokesperson. “I'm very grateful that you accepted our invitation, Mr. Delgado. We didn't know your sister as we would have liked; Matthew has always kept his personal life private.”

Jules's eyes scanned the swank surroundings, wondering how a child of this home had taken the wrong path so many times.

“I fear we don't know our only grandchild at all. That is a pity.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Cruz said. “But if Matt wants to claim Olivia, if this is what this meeting is about, I have to warn you that we will fight for custody.”

Jules's heart sank. How long could they fight these means? But then Crystal loved those children, and she would do everything within her means to see them raised in a caring home.

The judge spoke. “My son is serving a life sentence, Mr. Delgado. He has no means or intentions of claiming little Olivia.” Jules noted the pain in the father's voice.

“Matthew will never know his child,” Jillian admitted. “But we would like to ask that we be considered to raise the little girl.”

Silence filled the sudden void.

Jules cleared her throat. “Livvy doesn't know you.”

“No, and it breaks our hearts. We haven't interfered or asked for grandparents' rights until now, but with Sophie's death …” She bit her carefully lined lower lip. “We can provide everything the child would ever need: education, love. We invited you here today to discuss the possibility.”

Clearing his throat, Cruz met the woman's pleading gaze. “My sister requested that the children be raised by either me or my brother.”

“We understand that both you and your brother are single. Is that correct?”

“Yes, ma'am. For the time being.”

Her gaze focused on Jules.

Jules cleared her throat. “I'm a close family friend. My sister and I help with the children's care.”

“Are you or your sister married?”

“Not yet.”

The woman nodded and focused on Cruz. “Then surely you would welcome our help. We could arrange shared parental rights. The child could be here during school months and with you and your brother in the summer. We understand that you're a farmer?”

“I raise potatoes in Washington.”

“Really?” The judge's brow lifted. “I didn't realize Washington was known for potatoes?”

“It isn't, but we raise a lot of them up in the Tri-Cities area.”

Jules ventured a remark. “Olivia has a brother. Ethan.”

“Yes, we're aware of that. We'd make certain the two did not lose contact.”

Cruz glanced at Jules and she read his thoughts. He didn't want them separated for any length of time.

“It would be difficult on both children to separate them,” she said.

“The brother is young, he will adjust.”

“He's five,” Jules reminded. “And he's very close to his uncles.”

Jillian's warm smile tried to calm her fear. “I'm sure that we—together—could assure that the children would retain a close relationship.” She glanced at the judge. “Jim and I aren't so old that we can't give the little girl a good life.”

Cruz turned his hat brim in his hands. “I need time to think about this.”

“Of course. We understand. Take all the time needed,
but since the child is undergoing change with the loss of her mother, we feel the sooner the better.”

Jules swallowed back anger. Cruz had no right to raise their hopes. Sophie had left their guardianship up to her. Had he forgotten that? Her eyes roamed the swank room. Yet Olivia's grandparents could give her everything. Everything and more. Regardless of Sophie's wishes, blood kin would have the upper edge in a court of law. And Judge Parker undoubtedly would have influential friends …

They chatted another fifteen minutes before Cruz rose and ended the meeting. “I'll give this some thought, Judge and Mrs. Parker. You'll hear from me within the month.”

The older couple rose to shake his hand. “Thank you for your consideration.” Jillian's eyes filled with tears. “We will do a better job with this child than we did our own.” She touched a tissue to the corners of her eyes. “We have learned much since Matthew was born.”

“Yes, ma'am. How do you stand with God?”

“If it were not for our Creator, we would not be before you today. The years … have been difficult.”

Cruz nodded and motioned for Jules to lead the way out of the sun porch. Outside the mansion, they paused to catch their breaths. Why had he failed to mention that Jules was legally responsible for the children? Would that only complicate the matter?

Jules ventured, “What do you think?” He couldn't buy into this shared custody. He just couldn't.

Cruz shook his head, and slipped his hat on. “I think if you have no objections, we're putting the top up on that stupid convertible.”

O
n the way to the Marriott, Cruz suddenly took the airport exit. Jules glanced over. “This is the wrong cut off.”

“I think we'll take the red-eye back tonight.”

“Why?” She had been looking forward to a nice dinner, maybe some time to have a rational conversation about the day and its unlikely turn of events. The Parkers put the custody of Sophie's children into a whole different light.

“I want to go home, Jules. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She remained silent as they returned the car rental, arranged for the last two seats on the midnight flight, cleared security, and then waited the four hours until they boarded. He wanted to go home; he didn't want to be pressed on marrying her or giving up his sister's children. Home was a haven. Her heart went out to him; he was in pain with the ribs and emotionally torn, but he refused to mention the discomfort.

Jules couldn't remember ever being so drained, both physically and mentally. Her head spun with thoughts of the day's newest crisis, the Parkers. She could only guess how confused
Cruz must be. Separate Ethan from Livvy? Sophie wouldn't want that—she'd abhor the idea, but Jules knew her meager little temporary custody paper would never hold up in a court of law.

Around eight, she got up and disappeared for a while, leaving Cruz to his thoughts. When she returned, she carried two hot dogs and two coffees. Cruz glanced up when she handed him one. “Just like you like it. Ketchup, relish and those little green peppers you like.” She had her own memories of what he liked and didn't.

“Thanks.” He accepted the offering.

“When was your last pain pill?”

“I don't know—early this morning before I picked you up.”

“It's time for another one.”

He didn't argue, just took a bottle out of his shirt pocket, dumped a couple in his mouth and swallowed. “These things affect me—if I pass out cold you'll have to get me on the plane.”

She grinned. “I promise I will not leave you passed out cold in an airport waiting room.” She met his gaze. “I promise.”

He could have easily reminded her that her promises tended to go by the wayside, but he didn't. And she was thankful.

After their meal, they drifted off. Once she woke to find her head on his shoulder as he dozed. Straightening, she cleared her throat and tried to position her head in the opposite direction. Twice more she woke with her head on his shoulder.

The intercom woke them as the flight started to board. She was in the middle of the plane, he was in the back.